“I’m gonna walk into town. I’ll see you later.” Royal waved a hand at her grandfather as she strode toward Ned’s house in the dark.
❖
The Mill was a cacophony of loud male voices and piano music when they arrived. Ned followed Royal to the rough, wide plank bar, and she ordered them both a drink. Whiskey for her and a beer for Ned.
Royal leaned back against the bar and scanned the smoky room. She saw some faces she recognized and some she didn’t. There were a few women scattered about the room, protectively hovering next to their men. As if Royal would ever even look at a woman again. Could any creature be more hurtful than a woman? She didn’t think so. And it would be a frosty morning in hell before she ever trusted her heart to another one.
She drained her glass and banged it on the bar, signaling for a refill.
“Hey, slow down there, Royal. If you get too drunk you know I can’t carry you home.”
“Don’t mother me, Ned. I know my limits.”
“Yeah, the other night you knew your limits all the way into that oak tree.”
“Shut up, Ned.” Royal watched as June approached from the other end of the bar with a half-full bottle.
“You okay, Royal? Why don’t you go easy on this tonight?” June gave Royal a concerned matronly once-over.
“Don’t you start mothering me too, June. I already got one mother and his name is Ned.” She patted Ned’s shoulder and she and June shared a laugh.
“I ain’t laughin’, Royal.” Ned stewed over his beer.
She was just about to take a sip from her freshly filled glass when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Joe Dawson. Fuck you, Joe Dawson were the first words that came to mind. Luckily, she didn’t say them out loud. Wasn’t it enough that the whole damn county carried his family name? Wasn’t it enough that he’d stolen Lovey right out from under her damn nose? She postponed her next sip, setting the glass on the bar and turning to face him. Ned, who’d only been partially aware of all that had been going on between Royal and Lovey, stiffened beside her protectively.
“I need a word with you, Royal.” Joe had obviously gotten quite a head start on her in the drinks department. His speech was almost slurred.
“Thanks, but no thanks. Shove off, Joe.” She turned her back to Joe, resting her elbows on the bar, her boot propped on the railing along the front.
“I need to have a word with you. I ain’t kiddin’, Royal.” He put his hand on her shoulder again, and before she could turn and take a swing at him, Ned slid his slender frame between them.
“Come on now, Joe. I don’t know what’s up, but why don’t we just settle down here? I don’t think Royal’s in the mood to talk.” Ned held both of his open palms in front of him as a sign of non-aggression. He would have physically been no match for Joe’s muscle mass and height anyway.
“It’s okay, Ned. I’ll handle this.” Royal downed the remaining brown liquor in her glass and motioned with a jerk of her head for Joe to join her outside.
Ned whispered urgently as he followed her out the door. “Royal, don’t do this. Let’s just keep walkin’ and go home.” He tried to grab at her arm, but she pulled away, barely able to contain the anger she’d been carrying inside for weeks.
“Go home if you want to, Ned. This doesn’t have anything to do with you anyway.”
Ned followed Royal out to the alley behind the Mill where she turned to face Joe. “So what’s so important that you have to talk to me right now about it?”
“I don’t want you hanging around Lovey. I know what you’re up to, Royal Duval, and I’m here to tell you that Lovey is my intended and I don’t want you anywhere near her!” Joe jabbed his index finger in the direction of her face as he spoke.
Well, clearly Joe wasn’t up on current events and didn’t know that Lovey had already given Royal the heave-ho. For some reason, Joe still believed that Royal held some threat to his relationship with Lovey. That was an interesting bit of news, but likely false.
Royal was angry on so many levels she didn’t know which to tap into first. That Joe had the nerve to say anything to her about Lovey when he’d clearly already won that fight, made her angry. But equally galling was the fact that he thought he could tell her who she could and couldn’t spend time with in the first place. What an arrogant asshole. She would choose her own friends, by God.
“Joe Dawson, you don’t tell me how to spend my time or who to spend it with. I’ll socialize with who I damn well please.”
“Royal, don’t test me. I’m serious. You stay away from Lovey.”
Royal shoved him with both hands. “Make me.”
“Don’t make me hit you, Royal, ’cause I will.”
Even in the low light from the gas lamp overhead, Royal could tell Joe’s face was flushed. He was angry too and trying to hold back. So of course she shoved him again. Part of her wanted him to fight. At least then she’d have some physical outlet for the rage and hurt she was feeling. And he was the perfect target because all of it was his fault.
Joe shoved her backward. She stumbled but then ran toward him, jumping on him and causing him to fall backward. She punched him once, twice in the jaw before he grabbed her by the shirt and threw her off.
He was so much bigger and stronger than she was. He got to his feet and had Royal in a headlock trying
