There might not be much flash here in Lusty, Texas. And that was fine with him. He preferred the substance, and the impression he was forming was that the folks down here—even the transplanted ones—were all about that little thing.
Chapter Seven
“This has got to be one of the prettiest little towns I’ve ever seen. And so friendly, too!”
Camille Collins settled onto the padded bench at Angel’s Roadhouse. Bailey had seated them in a booth beside the windows. Of course, she’d greeted Jenny by name, and then Jenny had introduced her coworker to her parents.
“You’ve clearly made a good impression in the time you’ve been here,” her father, Jason, said. “Do you know when we checked in, the owner of the inn, Mrs. Benedict, told us what a nice woman and competent waitress you were?”
Jenny grinned. “Lusty is definitely different from any other place I’ve ever been. Although, seriously, I’ll be the first to admit I’ve not been to a lot of other places.”
“Well, we have, sweetheart. I like this town and these people. And I really like knowing that you’re so well-known and thought of here. That you matter.”
That was a strange thing for her mother to have said. When she’d called last week about this visit, her mother had assured her there was nothing wrong. But that wasn’t the feeling she’d gotten in the time since she’d arrived at the Parkview Inn and greeted her folks.
Now here they were at lunch, and her sense that something was off just grew stronger. Bailey had taken their order, but it was Laci who brought the tray of drinks to the table.
“Mom, Dad, this is Laci Benedict. She’s the manager here.”
Her dad slid out of the booth. Once Laci set down the drinks, she extended her hand.
“It’s wonderful to meet you both,” she said. “We all love Jenny here—not just the staff and Angela, the owner of the roadhouse, but the guests love her, too.”
“That’s so nice to hear,” her mother said. “Have you worked here long?”
“Since Angela opened, yes. I came from Abilene to visit my best friend who’d married and settled down in Lusty. I liked the town and the people so much, I stayed.”
Laci had indicated that her dad should sit, which he did. “Benedict.” Jenny recognized the musing quality in his tone. “Would you be related to the nice woman who runs the inn?”
“In a roundabout way,” Laci said. “My husbands are distant cousins of her husbands. Mine are from a branch of the family that moved to Montana just after the Second World War.”
To their credit, her parents didn’t blink at the plural of the noun.
“There are a lot of Benedicts in the area,” Jenny said. “Along with Kendalls and Jessops.”
“You should take them to the museum,” Laci said. She turned to Jenny’s parents. “It tells the story of the founding of Lusty.”
“That sounds like something I’d like to see.” Her father, especially, was a history buff. He turned his attention to Jenny. “Have you been through it?”
“I have! It’s fascinating. If you want to see it, we could do that after lunch.”
Laci stood aside as Bailey arrived carrying plates of food. Jenny hadn’t ordered her usual individual pizza and green salad. She was treating herself to a hamburger. Patrick was the most talented hamburger magician, as far as she was concerned. Her mom had ordered the taco soup and a ham sandwich, and her dad had caved on one of his favorites—a pulled pork sandwich with a side of fries.
“Enjoy your lunch,” Laci said. “I guess we’ll see you tonight at Ari’s?”
“Are you going to be there, too?” Jenny had already told her parents they’d been invited to supper at her best friend’s. She’d assumed it would just be the eight of them—Ari, her men, Jenny’s parents, and those two Montanans she was dating, who were staying there.
In response, Laci nodded, winked, and then headed back to the bar.
Jenny turned back to her parents and shrugged. “I thought it was going to be a small, casual supper tonight. It’ll still be casual, but maybe a bit bigger than I thought.”
“Well, we’re delighted to meet as many of your friends as we possibly can,” her mother said.
“We both like knowing you have good friends and live in a strong, tight-knit community.”
There was something about the way her father said those words that made her skin prickle. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something was definitely up with them.
That sense only amplified as the day progressed. They spent a good hour and a half at the Lusty Historical Society Museum. Jenny was gratified that her mother and Anna Jessop hit it off on first meet. Her father was fascinated by the photos and the stories they told. He was positively enthused seeing the photos of one of his personal heroes—Bat Masterson—along with that other famous lawman, Wyatt Earp, sitting with the founders of Lusty. There were several shots of the famous duo, and Mrs. Jessop told the tale of the founding of Lusty.
Her father took the time to look at every piece of every exhibit. But it was when he was taking in the display case devoted to the beginning of the Jessop-Kendall branch of the family that he went still—as if he was looking at something astounding.
“Would you like to see it up close, Mr. Collins?”
Anna’s question clearly shocked her father. “Jason, please. You’d let me hold it?”
She just nodded and then pulled a small key ring out of her pocket. She unlocked the case, reached in, and took out one of the gold coins that formed a part of the permanent exhibit.
Her father cradled the coin in his palm like the precious relic he clearly believed it to be. “This is a moment for me. I’ve done research most of my adult life, in my spare time. There are so many theories about the lost Confederate gold. I’ve followed clues and leads that have taken me as far
