"Are you hiring?" she asked the balding man behind the bar.
He dried a glass with a worn cloth and shook his head. "Sorry, we aren't right now. About to hit the slow season I'm afraid."
Disappointment tasted bitter as she bit back the tremble that threatened to commandeer her lips. It had been a long, emotional day. She was tired, weak, and hungry again after having tossed her breakfast over the side of a mountain. She had no place to stay, no job, and she wasn't above begging.
Sliding the extended handle of her suitcase back into place, she lifted the countertop door and let it fall behind her.
"What are you doing?" the old bartender asked. "You can't be in here!"
"Mr."-she squinted at his nametag-"Briney. I'm a hard worker, and I know the bar. Even if you only have a few shifts a week, I'll take anything you've got." She pulled a glass and filled it with beer at the perfect angle to limit the frothy head on top. "What'll you have?" she asked a man with two missing front teeth who grinned at the show. "On me."
He crossed his arms and smiled wide. "I want a Doc Holliday, little lady."
She laughed and picked up Jack Daniel's Tennessee whiskey and spun the bottle before she tossed it in the air and caught it behind her back. With a crook of her eyebrow at Briney, she poured the shot into a clean glass and covered it with orange juice, Jagermeister herbal liqueur, and finished it off with a pour of Dr. Pepper. The bar wasn't familiar, and she had to hunt a few moments for ingredients, but it went as smoothly as it could.
"Hired!" the snaggle-toothed man yelled, slapping the counter when she put the drink on a napkin in front of him.
"Pipe down, you old crusty sod," Briney muttered. "All right, little lady, you have my interest. Where did you learn to tend a bar?"
"New York."
"Oh, yeah? And how'd you end up here at the end of the world?"
She narrowed her eyes, not about to share her life story to a bar top full of curious drinkers. "I like the fresh air."
"We'll start you at three nights a week on our busy nights. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday work for you?" At a nod of her head, he continued, "I'll give you two-fifteen an hour, and you can keep your tips. You're on probation, which means if I don't like the way you run my bar, you're out. If you do well, we'll talk about giving you more shifts in a few months."
She stood there grinning like an idiot.
"Well," he said. "Hand me that beer you poured, pay for Larry's drink, and be gone before I change my mind."
With shaking fingers, she pulled out a couple of dollar bills and waved to Larry and Briney, then turned to leave. As she reached for the door, it flung open, almost crushing her hand. She gasped as a small herd of people filed in.
"Hey, girl!" Briney shouted. "I changed my mind. You're working your first shift now. I'm taking a break."
"Okay," she said, stunned. Dropping her bag behind the counter and peeling off her jacket, scarf, and mittens, she shook out her long hair and ran a rag over the dirty bar top out of habit to calm her nerves. While the three men and two women settled onto the stools, Farrah looked over the labels on the bottles surrounding her, committing to memory where everything was.
When she looked up, she had her bartender face on. Outgoing, chatty, friendly, she could charm even the surliest drinkers. She had the advantage of confidence and experience.
"What can I do you for?" she asked the two ladies on the end. One of them looked familiar, but she couldn't place her face. She was pretty, with auburn hair and light brown eyes.
The woman frowned and cocked her head. "Do I know you?"
The others in the group quieted, and one of the men said, "Yeah, you do look familiar. Are you new here? I've never seen anyone but old Briney behind the bar."
"Yes, I'm brand new. Just blew into town on these storm clouds," she said with a wink. The man had sandy brown hair and friendly gray eyes. He smiled. "So you're the one who brought this weather into town, huh?"
Farrah chuckled. "Yes, it was all me. Definitely not the run of the mill October weather of Alaska."
"Hey, is that Aanon?" a blond-haired woman asked, pointing out Briney's front window.
Farrah's stomach dipped to somewhere under her feet. Please don't come in, please don't come in. The blonde jogged to the door and called to Aanon, who was busy loading supplies from the general store into the back of his truck.
His face was such a comedic study in disappointment, Farrah almost laughed. He didn't want to be in here anymore than she'd wanted to spend two hours in the cab of his Chevy. Maybe he wouldn't come in after all. She swung her attention back to the friendly man, Ben, he said his name was.
"Nah, this weather will thaw out at least once more before winter hits for good," he said. "It's too early for the snow to hold straight through. It sure put a stop to preparing for winter, though."
She leaned comfortably on her elbows and clasped her hands. "Is that why you guys are out in the weather? Work stopped?"
"Yes, ma'am. No one is able to do much when the weather comes in fast like this. We'll just wait it out and get back to work when it passes."
"Can I get a cranberry vodka?" the dark haired girl at the end asked.
"Sure thing. What about you?" she asked the blonde who was watching Aanon like a predator.
"Same," she said.
Two cranberry vodkas, and three beers later, Aanon did, in fact, saunter in through the front door. Drat.
She plastered on a smile as he took a seat by the guys, but it wasn't necessary. He didn't notice her among all of the greetings for his friends. They acted like they hadn't seen him in a while, but she was at a loss at how they could miss him. If he lived here, he was one of a couple hundred. They might as well live in a commune together.
"Hey, can we get another beer for my buddy here?" Ben asked.
"Yep. You sure you don't want shots? It seems like you guys haven't seen each other in a while." Upselling never hurt her tips.
"Ew lady, you're dangerous. I appreciate that. Yeah, shots for all of us. You can put all this on my ticket, okay?"
Oh, she loved when tickets weren't split up. Made life so much easier. Ben had earned himself one sincere smile from her before she started to work on filling shot glasses. Aanon sat with his back to the bar, but when she placed the shots in front of Ben to hand out, he turned a startled look on her.
"Have a shot with us," Ben said to her. "I'll buy."
She laughed and opened her mouth to decline, but Aanon spoke for her. "She can't. What are you doing here?"
The bar went eerily quiet.
"Do you know her?" the blond-haired woman asked.
"Um, I work here," Farrah answered.
"Since when?" he asked.
"To Hot New Bartender!" Ben said, lifting his miniature glass high.
Aanon growled, downed his whiskey with everyone else, and turned an impatient glare on her.
"Since just now," she answered. "Briney hired me a few minutes ago."
"Geez, dude," Ben said, gripping Aanon's shoulder playfully. "Tone it down, will you? You're going to scare Hot New Bartender off."
"Don't call her that," Aanon murmured, never taking his eyes from her.
Okay, this was leading nowhere good, and she needed this job. She shimmied down the counter to check on a couple of patrons nursing scotches on the rocks, changed the television channel for them, and then gave the bar a thorough cleaning with a new rag while the others talked and laughed.
Ben waved her back and ordered another round. They were going to get rowdy all right. "So," he asked while she was preparing their drinks. "Where are you staying? I haven't seen you around here before."
"Nowhere at the moment. In fact, if any of you know of any cheap rentals, I'd appreciate the information. I don't really know my way around here yet."
"Have you tried Ava yet?" one of the other guys asked.
Rinsing out a glass, she asked, "Is she in charge of real estate for The Landing?"
"Yep."
"Then yes, I tried her earlier. All too rich for my blood. I'm a simple girl with simple tastes. Fancy doesn't suit me."
"Well, you're in luck," Ben said with a slight slur to his words. "Aanon here has been looking for a renter for the broad side of a year."
The Aanon he spoke of was shaking his head vigorously back and forth trying to shut his friend up, and one glance down the bar told her the blond-haired woman was shooting poisoned arrows at her through narrowed eyes.