a reason to live(6)
When he entered Last Call—the only bar in Trails End established when the town was founded in 1898—he wasn’t just struck by how full it was, he was also assaulted by Joanne Drummond and Suzy Wills’ rendition of “These Boots Are Made for Walkin’” on the karaoke stage. Last Call was an old time saloon with scarred pine floors and a long oak bar, original to the establishment. Ralph Potter, the descendant of the original owner, didn’t stock crap for fruity drinks either. He sold beer, hard liquor, and had a limited menu with one of the best damn burgers he’d ever eaten.
Shane grimaced when Suzy hit a wrong note and headed toward the bar for a shot of whiskey. He whistled between his teeth at Ralph to catch his attention. Ralph jerked his head, indicating he’d heard, so Shane sat down and turned toward the stage.
As he watched the Barbie Twins shake their asses, he felt someone slide up beside him, so he turned and smiled a genuine smile for the spitfire of a lady sitting next to him.
“How’s my boy’s business? Is it still intact or did you run off all his employees while he was on his honeymoon?” Maxine Hunter, Max’s mother and constant pain in Max’s ass, asked.
“Ten-hour days are good for the men,” he replied.
“They said you dogged them like a Drill Sergeant.”
“They needed discipline, Maxine,” Shane grinned.
“I’m not sure if you noticed this, boy, but you’re not in the Army anymore. The men around here aren’t used to working all day and then having to drop and give you twenty.”
Shane’s smiled slipped at the mention of his Army days. He pulled it back into place quickly, though, and slung his arm around Maxine’s shoulders.
“Just making sure Max comes home to a profitable business, is all. The way you keep pushing him and Mia to have kids right off, he’ll need the money.”
“Is that so?”
“Surely is,” Shane answered with a wink, but the look on Maxine’s face told him she had a different theory and he was about to hear it.
“Is that why you helped Gregor free of charge with his rafting tours? Because you’re worried, he won’t be able to feed his kids?”
“He’s an old man and a confirmed bachelor. He doesn’t have children,” Shane replied. “But he is on a budget.”
“What about helping out at the nature preserve when you’re not splitting logs for Max? Or working free of charge on Smith’s add-on? Hell, Shane, you practically built that yourself.”
“What’s your point?” Shane sighed.
“My point is: you seem to spend an awful lot of time doing for others, and I want to know when you’re gonna start doing for you?”
Shane removed his arm from around her shoulders when he heard a shot glass hit the bar behind him. He turned and picked it up, then raised a salute to Maxine. “To the nosiest woman I know.”
“Is that so? . . . Ralph,” Maxine hollered over her shoulder, “give me a shot as well.”
Ralph complied with her request, and Maxine lifted her drink to Shane. “To the biggest bullshitter I know,” Maxine said with a smile, then threw back the whiskey and choked a little as Shane smiled.
He followed with his own shot as Maxine caught her breath then nodded to Ralph to fill him up again. “Maxine, you’ve always known this about me, so don’t act surprised.”
Maxine narrowed her eyes at Shane and then scoffed.
“What?”
“Don’t shit a bullshitter, Shane Sherman. You don’t think I’ve seen the pain on your face when you think no one is watchin’? I know when I see a man carryin’ the weight of the world on his shoulders. The man you were at twenty is not the man who came home,” Maxine informed him, getting to the heart of the matter. “I know you probably saw and did things over there that will scar you for the rest of your life, but it’s time to move forward. You were gonna go to medical school and become a doctor, weren’t cha? Now you’re workin’ part-time wherever you’re needed, and half the time you’re not gettin’ paid.”
“Maxine—”
“Get on with your life, Shane. The only way to put the past behind you is to look forward.”
Shane turned toward the stage so she wouldn’t see his reaction. He’d spent the last twelve months pretending he was fine for this exact reason. He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to explain how he’d gotten a nineteen-year-old killed. And he sure as hell didn’t want to see the pity on people’s faces when they found out.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” Maxine asked, her voice suddenly gentle and comforting. Shane turned his head and saw the pity he’d wanted to avoid. He didn’t deserve it; he’d screwed up and a kid had died. He didn’t want pity or understanding, he wanted to turn back the clock and have Sloan transferred so she’d be home right now on a date with a pimple-faced kid.