hang of it.” She shoved her shoulder into mine as we kept walking.
I grinned, knowing it was stupid to feel proud of something so trivial, but I’d take what I could get. “It’s a special skill set.”
She laughed as she unlocked the back door, holding it open for me to enter first.
I heard voices when I walked in, and Ruth and I exchanged a look and headed straight for the dining room. Max was standing behind the bar, nursing a cup of what I hoped was coffee, while a group of older men and women were gathered around the front window.
Ruth didn’t waste any time making a beeline to Max, leaving me to follow.
“What the hell, Max?” she snarled in an undertone when she reached him.
He stared at her with hooded eyes underscored with dark circles. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”
“Why are all these people in the bar?”
He waved a hand toward them in a broad sweep. “What’s it look like?”
“It looks like a bunch of bullshit,” she said, stomping past me and over to the group. “All right now. Show’s over.”
One of the women turned toward her with a haughty glare. “Max said we could be here.”
“Well, Max may own the place, but I’m the manager. And seein’ as how we’re servin’ neither food nor drink yet and you haven’t purchased a damn thing, you need to head on out.”
“But—”
“You’re more than welcome to come back at noon if you feel so inclined, but only if you’re paying customers.”
“We’re not hurtin’ anything,” another woman objected.
“Actually,” Ruth said, with plenty of attitude, “Max has a raging headache and he’s in dire need of peace and quiet. He’ll be ready to face the lunch crowd in about four hours.” She walked over to the front door and held it open. “So y’all head on out and we’ll see you in a bit. Don’t forget that chicken-fried steak is the Tuesday lunch special!”
The small crowd shuffled out, although several people shot Ruth belligerent looks on their way out. When the last of them left, she shut the door behind them and locked it. “No one comes through that door until we open for lunch.”
I knew she wasn’t talking to me, so I snuck a glance at Max, who looked like he was about to barf up last night’s dinner.
Ruth marched back over to him and snatched the mug from his hand and took a whiff. With a look of disgust, she dumped it into the sink.
“Hey!” he protested.
“The hair of the dog won’t help you, Maxwell Lincoln Drummond. You need breakfast.”
He gave her a surly glare.
“Don’t you be giving me that look, young man,” she snorted, and I nearly laughed because she couldn’t be more than a couple of years older than him. “You need a generous helpin’ of grease.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Why aren’t you sick as a dog?”
“Because you were the only fool drinking himself into a stupor,” Ruth responded.
“If we go to Watson’s Café, everyone’s gonna be grilling me, wanting to know what happened,” he said, digging in his heels. “I don’t want to deal with the questions.”
“Then why the hell did you let those fools in?”
“It seemed like the best way to get the banging on the door to stop.”
The front door started to open, and Ruth stared at it with a look of disbelief. “How the hell…?”
A man walked in wearing a cowboy hat, brown leather jacket, and jeans. Ruth had definitely locked the door, which meant he had a key. He removed his hat, revealing thick dark hair, as he shut the door behind him.
“That didn’t take long,” Ruth muttered under her breath.
At the sound of her voice, he looked up and did a double take when he saw the two of us standing side by side. The slightly wary look in his eyes told me he’d hoped to find Max alone, but our presence mustn’t have bothered him, because he strode into the bar. He didn’t give off a threatening vibe, so I relaxed, especially since neither Ruth nor Max seemed intent on kicking him out.
Max groaned. “I wondered how long it would take for you to show up, Carson.”
“Don’t go shootin’ the messenger, Max,” Carson said with a little chuckle as he lifted his hands in surrender. “Just doin’ as I’m instructed.”
Max leaned into the counter and waved his free hand in a circle. “Go on, then.”
Carson’s warm eyes filled with sympathy. “As you can imagine, your father wasn’t pleased to