“What time is it?” Natalie hollered, peering out the bedroom window at the dark sky.
“Early,” Kate said from out front. “Henry, come back here. You need a leash.” Natalie heard the steps creak and then the door slam.
Too damned early according to Natalie’s foggy brain, especially after a late night helping Kate and Butch close and clean up the bar. And why was Kate here already? Didn’t she know pregnant women needed a lot of rest, especially after whooping it up in a barroom brawl?
Natalie grabbed a pair of jeans, replaying the madness from the night before as she dressed …
She’d been refilling the toilet paper in the ladies’ restroom, trying to jimmy open the stuck lock on the toilet paper holder, when the hooting and howling had started. Figuring someone had turned the television channel to a local game, she popped the lock, replenished the toilet paper supply, and washed her hands before heading out to pick up her order at the bar.
A spray of water shot through the air above a crowd hovering around the bar.
She frowned and pushed through the front of the group to see what was going on. When she reached the front row, her eyeballs did one of those cartoon popping-out of-her-head expressions—at least they did in her mind.
John Wayne would have been proud of Kate. Four months pregnant and she still dodged Butch’s attempts to corral her like a wild mustang. Poor Grady was taking the brunt of Kate’s dousing as he tried to secure his caterwauling ex-wife and stop her frenzied clawing at Kate.
Someone bumped into Natalie from behind, snapping her into action. She rushed the scene, trying to figure out how she could join in the fun. Before she could get a leg up on the bar, Coop grabbed her by the wrist and tugged her aside, holding tight when she tried to pull free.
“Stand down, bruiser,” he shouted above the ruckus. “The sheriff and Butch don’t need your help in the ring.”
Elizabeth elbowed Grady in the breadbox and wiggled free, lunging at Kate again. “You could have fooled me.”
They both ducked a stream of soda spray.
“Your family likes to stir up hell with a long spoon.”
Natalie grinned. “We shot out of the womb roadhouse rowdy.” Speaking of her posse, someone was missing. “Where’s Ronnie?” She had to yell over the screams and cheers as Kate nailed Elizabeth in the chin with a blast of soda water.
“I think she left.” Coop handed her a waitstaff apron. “She threw this at me and said something about being done with this shit.” He pointed at the batwing doors. “She took off that way.”
What?! “And you let her go?”
Coop shrugged. “I left my handcuffs at home.”
She ran in back, but Ronnie was gone.
“Shit!” Natalie picked up a soaked work shirt from the floor. It smelled like beer. Returning to the front, she raced out the front door in time to catch sight of the Jeep’s taillights. “Ronnie! Wait!” she shouted, her words disappearing into the dark desert night.
On the way back inside The Shaft, she held the door for Grady, who was carrying his kicking and screaming ex-wife out the door with Mississippi on his heels. “You’re going home!” Grady said over Elizabeth’s angry cries. “And if I see you back here again, I’m having Butch file a restraining order to keep you away, you hear me, Liz?”
Natalie didn’t wait for Elizabeth’s answer, closing the door behind her. Butch and Kate were nowhere to be found, but Coop and Gary the bartender were mopping up the pools of water on the bar with rags. Throughout the rest of the bar, conversation had returned to normal, life moving on as if catfights were normal on a Sunday evening in Jackrabbit Junction. Natalie grabbed an order pad and started making her rounds, returning to normal life along with everyone else.
… Blinking back to the present, Natalie slid her arms into a faded flannel shirt. Why was Kate in such a rush for her to get dressed, anyway? Did she need help at the bar? Hadn’t Butch said last night that he wasn’t opening The Shaft until late afternoon since it was New Year’s Eve? Natalie figured the late start would give her plenty of time to set piers for the back porch before Claire returned.
She walked out front to grab her work boots. Kate was back, pouring yesterday’s coffee dregs into a mug. “Who put you in charge of wakeup crew this morning?” Natalie asked. She took the cup of coffee Kate offered with a grimace. “And why must I drink my coffee cold?”
“Because we’re going to Yuccaville and I need you firing on all plugs.”
“You mean cylinders. Plugs spark, that’s why they’re called ‘spark plugs.’ ”
Kate rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Claire Jr.”
“Officially, I’m older than Claire.” Natalie took a gulp of the day-old coffee, grimacing at the stale bitterness. “Why am I going to Yuccaville? I have a porch to build.”
“Ruby’s porch can wait.” Kate tossed Natalie her coat. “We have a code red situation.”
Code red, huh? Natalie squinted at Kate. “Says the crazy soda-gunslinger.”
Kate stuck her index finger in Natalie’s face. “Don’t call me crazy.”
“Okay, okay.” She knocked Kate’s finger away. “But if this is some kind of retaliation mission to hunt down Elizabeth and shave her head, I’m dragging anchor. I think you won the most rounds in the fight last night and should just wear your championship belt with pride as you walk away from the ring.”
“It’s not a retaliation mission. More like one of those murder mystery parties with a twist. Finish your coffee. The clock is ticking.”
A twist of what? Kate the sleuth was almost as nerve-wracking as Kate the brawler. As much as Natalie would rather have headed to the General Store for a quick breakfast and then get to work on the porch, she couldn’t let Kate go to Yuccaville alone. There were too many opportunities for the whack-a-loon to wind up
