"I don't want to swoon. Give me a gun. I'll hide it in my garter. No one will be expecting that."
"You're the damsel."
"I want to be a gunfighter."
"Your job is to faint."
"Then shoot me. We could get one of those prop bags. A hit to the stomach and I can die slowly while the fighting is going on around me."
Dinky lowered his clipboard. "You're a bit bloodthirsty."
"I just want a role I can really sink my teeth into."
"And when you've got a few reenactments under your belt, we'll discuss that. For this one, you'll elegantly faint."
The urge to kick the ground in frustration almost had me doing so, but when I got my cue, I fainted demurely.
I had just gotten back on my feet when Maureen muttered, "Brace yourself." Before I could ask her meaning, Janice appeared in my face.
"Where's your husband?"
Like I'd tell her anything about Damian.
"He won't get away with it?"
"With what?"
"That place is mine. I own it. He's not taking it from me."
"The bar?"
"Don't act like you don't know what he's doing. It's the only reason you came back here, to take it away from me. I earned it."
I saw red. Earned it. She stole it. "Earned it how?"
"She brought me out here and then she died. I should be compensated."
I wanted to punch her in the face "His sister? She died a horrible death from cancer and you should be compensated. Is that what you're saying?"
"Well, yeah."
I made a move toward her, but felt strong hands on my arms pulling me back. Snapping my head around it was to see Razor. He wasn't looking at me. He was glaring at Janice.
Turning back to her, I shook Razor's hold but I didn't make a move toward her. "I not only hope he does take it away from you, I'll do everything I can to help him."
She lunged at me, her claws out. "Bitch."
In a flash I was behind Razor. The sheriff appeared, probably summoned by one of the onlookers because there were a lot of onlookers.
"Maybe you need to cool your heels at the station." The sheriff said to Janice.
"What about her? She threatened me."
"I didn't hear a threat." Maureen said.
"Me either. You're the one who approached her. Then took a swing. I've the scratch to prove it. I'm sure my skin is still under your claws," Razor added.
"Let's go, Janice. Don't make me have to cuff you in front of all these people. You can calm down at the station."
Razor dropped his arm around my shoulders. "You are bloodthirsty. I like you, Thea."
Damian appeared a few minutes later. He was livid. "Where is she?"
"The station," Razor said as he stepped in-between Damian and me.
Damian wasn't having that. He swatted Razor aside like he was nothing more than a fly and glared at me. "And you provoked her?"
"I stood up to her. There's a difference. She said she earned the bar because Amelia brought her out here and died. That pissed me off, so I called her on it. I'd do it again."
I wasn't sure what he intended, but I wasn't expecting him to pull me into his arms and kiss me right there in the middle of town. Not that I minded, not in the least. We were both breathless when he ended the kiss.
"Are we good?" I asked because I couldn't read him at all.
"We're a whole hell of a lot better than good."
"Drinks are on me." Razor said, which were the magic words since the crowd dispersed and headed to the Tavern.
"Thanks for stepping in." I didn't know where Razor had come from, but he'd taken the cat scratch meant for me.
He winked. "Anytime."
Damian and I were hosting a dinner at the cottage. We had offered it that first night at the Sharptons, but I found I was looking forward to doing something so normal and with people I was growing to really like. We were having it outside … barbequing, a fire pit, pumpkin carving and bobbing for apples for the kids, though many of the adults were joining in too. Bobby was helping Damian with the grill and I found myself stopping throughout the evening to watch him. He would never be the affable guy who talked up everyone; he'd always be in the shadows, but watching him grilling up the burgers and chicken, grinning at whatever story Bobby was sharing and seeing him happy made me really happy.
Madge had brought baked goodies, Maureen contributed wine, Razor-yes I invited Razor and Damian didn't protest, weird-and Mic brought the beer and Dinky brought a box of cigars. Missy, Ricki and Dee were helping me in the kitchen, finishing up the sides that would accompany the grilled meats Damian and Bobby were responsible for.
"I love this. I'm so glad you two moved here," Missy said. I felt badly that I couldn't be completely honest with her, but I agreed. I was happy we had moved here too even if it was only temporary.
"It's a great town. You were right."
"Maybe Hank and Wynona will have playmates soon."
I'd been slicing a tomato and almost took off my finger. Children with Damian, just the idea made me want to cry. Thinking of a little boy or girl with his eyes made my chest grow tight. I was saved from answering when Wynona entered the kitchen.
"Mommy, I want to carve a pumpkin."
"Okay, give me a minute and I'll help you."
"Oh … okay. One minute."
Missy glanced over at me and rolled her eyes heavenward. "And she'll hold me to that. She learned to tell time solely for that reason."
Children were the best. We finished in the kitchen and I followed Missy to the carving station.
"I want to make Cinderella's coach."
"Oh, honey, I'm not good enough to do that."
Wynona's big eyes turned to me. "Can you?"
I could draw the carriage, but no way could I carve it. "No, a jack-o-lantern is about as good as I get."
Her lower lip quivered when she looked back at her mom. "Can we try?"
"Sure, sweetie. We can try."
It was pretty clear that Missy was in over her head. Damian and Bobby approached.
"What's going on here?" Bobby asked.
"Wynona wanted to carve Cinderella's coach, but I'm just not that skilled.
"Daddy has two left hands," Bobby said to which Wynona nodded, so apparently he tried and failed at some craft. Though did he do it on purpose so he wasn't roped into being the designated helper? I had been guilty of that a time or two growing up.
Damian stood quietly next to Bobby, his hands in his pockets, observing the scene. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, but then he pulled up a chair and reached for a carving knife.
"Can you?" Wynona asked him and the hope in her voice nearly broke my heart.
"Got a picture?" Damian asked.
"Mommy, your phone."
Missy took out her phone and pulled up a picture of the elaborate coach made from a magical pumpkin. Damian studied it for a few minutes and then got to work.
I watched mesmerized at the skill Damian had with a knife, knew it stemmed from his line of work, and still he methodically carved that pumpkin, the detail unbelievable. It took him almost an hour but when he was done, Wynona had her replica of Cinderella's coach.
"It's perfect," Wynona squealed as she clapped her hands together. "Oh Mommy, look at it."
Damian stood, his hands covered in pumpkin guts, but before he could make his escape Wynona jumped from her spot and wrapped her arms around one of his legs. "Thank you, thank you."
My heart ached in a really good way seeing Damian getting love from a little girl because he had carved her a pumpkin. She eventually released him and when she looked up, he smiled.
I followed him into the kitchen. He was at the sink washing his hands when I moved up behind him and mirroring Wynona, I hugged him, around the waist because I was taller. "I loved every second of that."
"It's just a pumpkin."
I pressed a kiss right where I knew his devil tattoo was. "It was so much more than that and you know it."
I didn't wait for his reply and left the kitchen, wiping my happy tears from my eyes.
Toward the end of the evening I was sitting around the fire pit with Ricki and Missy. The guys were inside watching a game. We were bundled in blankets, hats and gloves, but it was such a beautiful evening with the clearest sky above, that we weren't ready to go in.
"It's so beautiful here."
"I told you." Missy's comment brought a smile.
"I didn't know Damian was Amelia's brother," Ricki said.
My eyes moved from the star-filled sky to Ricki. "Did you know Amelia?"
"Yeah. She hired me. Great lady. It was so sad watching her fight so hard only to lose. The bar was amazing when she owned it."
"How so?"
"She had the coolest stuff, vintage-an old jukebox, framed baseball cards. She was a collector and most of her stuff she kept at the bar. It made sense because she was there all the time."
"Where's the stuff now?"
"Piece by piece it's been removed."
I didn't like where this was going. "By Janice."
"That would be my guess. She's selling it and pocketing the money, which makes her lowering our wages just bitchy."
"She lowered your wages?"
"When she took over, she dropped it to just over minimum wage, said we would make it up in tips. The tips are great, but with the amount of money that flows through that place why is she docking us a couple dollars an hour?"