Bucking the Rules(92)

“Nah.” Morgan pushed at his glasses, smudging the lenses a little. It was a habit from childhood he’d never grown out of. “I actually came by to see if Bea was okay. And Ma wanted me to bring something over. I’ve got the basket in my car.”

Poor guy. Smitten. That would lead nowhere good. “She’s at the house, milking the accident for all it’s worth. The day after, she suddenly developed a sore neck.” Sore neck, his foot.

“She wasn’t hurt too badly, was she? Rumors have her with everything from a concussion to broken ribs.”

Of course. The Marshall grapevine hard at work. “Nothing more than a sore neck for a few days. It’s likely fine by now, but you couldn’t tell by the sounds she makes. Girl’s got the pathetic whine down to a science. She probably taught it to that rat she calls a dog.”

“She was in a car accident, Trace,” Morgan scolded. “She’s entitled to rest a little.”

“Rest, sure. No problem there. But she’s a very loud … rester.” He nodded to the house. “I need to grab lunch myself. I’ll walk up with you.” He waited while Morgan retrieved the basket his mother had sent over from the back of his truck. “What’d your mom pack?”

“Nothing for you. It’s for Bea.”

Trace sighed and walked on. “So how are things coming along with your practice? Take on any help yet?”

“No, but I need to.” He shrugged. “I’ve got an interview with a woman next month. She’s finishing up her current contract, then wants to try country life for a while. Livestock and all that.”

“She’s nuts. Who would trade petting pampered pooches in the city for getting a hoof to the balls?”

“Someone without balls?” Morgan shrugged and slowed his pace a little. With legs like his, he was constantly outpacing others. “I need another receptionist, too, since mine wants to train up to become a vet tech. Which is great, but annoying to have yet another person to find.”

“Easier position to fill,” Trace pointed out. “Fewer requirements.”

“True there. So anyway, if you hear of anyone looking for a job, and you think they’d fit in, let me know.”

“Sure thing.” They walked in silence a few more feet.

“Was over at Jo’s Place the other day. Talked to Stu, the cook.”

“Yeah?” Trace stuck his hands in his pockets and slowed down a little more, hoping to drag out any mention of Jo without being too obvious.

“Apparently, Jo has a hearing with the city council at the end of the week. She has to basically give her account of the facts with that whole drunk driving situation, and hope they don’t launch a further investigation that might result in her business license being revoked. Or liquor license, which is almost as bad, given the nature of her business.”

“Damn.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “How did I not know about that?”

“I dunno. You guys are kinda removed from town, unless you need something. And since I’m guessing you haven’t been in to the bar lately …” He gave Trace a pointed look. Damn grapevine. “I just assumed you didn’t know.”

He hadn’t. And he might have missed it had Morgan not swung by to talk. “Is she planning to go and fight?”

“Of course. She’s not backing down. Pissed, from what it seems, but coldly so. Ready to kick ass and take names, according to Stu.”

That was his Jo. “I hate that she has to go through this.” It hurt her, he knew. She wanted to belong, be a part of the community, and having unfounded accusations tossed so easily at her was a stab to her heart. A heart that was far more tender than she ever wanted anyone to know.

“Well, between us, and everyone else I’ve heard from, they all think it’s bull. Jo might be new, but plenty of people love what she’s done with the place, and they respect the hell out of her.” Morgan reached to open the front door, waited while Trace headed in, then took off his boots. He knew the drill as well as anyone.

“I wish there was something I could do.”

“Maybe there is.” Morgan shrugged and set the basket on the table. “All I know is, there’s gonna be plenty of people who will be pissed if Jo’s Place shuts down.”

Trace considered that while Morgan followed the sounds of TV to the living room to check on Bea. If everyone else in the town wanted Jo to stay, maybe he had a shot at doing something productive.

Sometimes the grapevine had its advantages.





Jo straightened her suit jacket—the only one she owned—and tried to keep her hands from shaking. This was just a simple council meeting. Nothing would actually happen today. She just had the opportunity to go in there and explain what had happened.