Out of the Storm (Buckhorn, Montana #1) - B.J. Daniels Page 0,44
was he, Jon reminded himself with a curse. Which meant his second option was even worse.
Once his prints hit that database and he hadn’t run, he was as good as dead. Worse, he would bring his trouble to Buckhorn. But he couldn’t just let Kate marry this man until he knew for sure that Collin Matthews was good enough for her.
Which meant he had to move fast.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
YESTERDAY, AFTER HIS visit to Jon Harper’s workshop, Collin had taken the mug he’d lifted from the workbench straight to the post office. The post office was almost a joke: a small wall of numbered metal boxes and a tiny window with a plate that read Postmistress Vi Mullen.
He’d peered in, seen no one. “Hello?” No answer. He’d heard rustling somewhere in the back behind the small bank of postal boxes. “Hello!” he’d called louder.
That’s when he’d noticed the bell. It was silver and round with a small dinger on top. He had shaken his head in frustration. He’d known that she’d heard him call out to her. She’d just been waiting, determined he was going to ring her damned bell.
He’d slammed his hand down on it. The bell had practically skittered off the narrow ledge of the counter through the tiny window. He was about to hit it again, when the bell had been whisked away by a small pale hand.
The face that had appeared on the other side of the opening made him jump. A pair of ball-bearing-dark eyes had glared at him from a wizened, ghost-white, hard-angled face. Her pursed lips had only accented her wrinkles.
“Yes?” she’d snapped. Vi Mullen had appeared to be in her late fifties going on seventy.
“I need to send a package.” He’d wrapped the cup in a page from a newspaper at the motel since that’s all he had. “I need a box for this.”
She’d considered what he held, then had shrugged and disappeared for a few moments before returning with a box. “Is it breakable?” Clearly it was. “You’ll need some of this.” She’d shoved a small roll of plastic Bubble Wrap through the hole. “I suppose you don’t have any tape.” Had he looked like he had tape? She’d shoved some of that through the opening along with a pen that had feathers taped to it. So no one pocketed it?
“Over there,” she’d said, pointing to a small counter and then she’d gone again.
He’d muttered to himself as he’d taken everything over to the counter and carefully wrapped the cup in Bubble Wrap, then put it into the box. After writing the address on the box, he’d returned with everything to the arched window to ring the bell again.
She’d appeared at once and had begun to add up his bill.
“Wait, you’re charging me for the roll of tape and this whole roll of Bubble Wrap?”
“The US post office doesn’t supply tape or Bubble Wrap for nothing,” she’d said primly.
“Well, I don’t want or need the rest of it. Is your supervisor around?”
She’d smiled at that. “I’m Vi Mullen, postmistress,” making it clear she was the boss. Her eyes had narrowed. “And you’re that fella staying at the motel with that brunette.”
He’d hated the way she denigrated his relationship with Kate. “She’s my fiancée. We’re getting married.” Her look said she’d known better.
“From Texas, I heard. Strange time to be taking a trip to Buckhorn.”
“We weren’t taking a trip to Buckhorn. Our rental car broke down.” As if she didn’t know that.
“Still,” she’d said, eyeing his package and the address he’d written on it.
He’d remembered what Lars had told him about his live-in girlfriend’s mother. “Vi’s the worst gossip in town.”
“Doesn’t seem like there would be much to gossip about,” Collin had noted. “Does anything ever happen in this town?”
“You’d be surprised,” Dave had said and then quickly walked away. Lars had looked down into his beer and changed the subject.
“I need to overnight it,” he’d told the woman, and she’d let out an irritated sigh and started to redo his bill. “Will it get there by tomorrow?”
“Should now that the highway’s open,” she’d said and asked if what was inside was liquid, perishable...
He hadn’t caught the rest. “No,” he’d told her. She’d seen that it was a cup. Was the woman just being difficult? He’d handed her the money. “I don’t want the tape or the Bubble Wrap.” He’d shoved it back through the opening.
She’d pursed her lips again but had taken the items back. “You paid for it.”