the bank and almost mowed down a woman coming in.
She yipped. That was the only word to describe the sound she made. I quickly grabbed her arms to steady her, and she stared up at me slack jawed. Her cheeks colored, and she glanced away from me.
“Uh, please, let me go.” Her voice quavered. “You’re crushing my arms.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled and released her. “I should watch where I’m going.”
“Yes, you should.”
Her response was a blow I shouldn’t feel. Eventually, when you’d been battered too much, you stopped feeling for a while. At least that was what they said, but I couldn’t tell.
She disappeared inside the bank, and I trudged across the street. Two little boys fighting over a bag of candy they’d likely stolen from the sweet shop when old man Dan wasn’t looking paused and stared at me. I was tempted to pull the brim of my hat down farther, but I just kept walking.
One would have thought they’d seen me in town often enough to get used to me by now, but every week I made the trip, it was more of the same sorry shit.
I’d already dropped off the eggs from the truck, and I should have gone straight home. But if my best friend, Cole, the owner of the coffee shop, found out that I’d come to town and hadn’t stopped for a cup of coffee, he would give me shit later. The thirty minutes I usually popped in for was way better than an hour of him trying to guilt-trip me.
The old-fashioned-type wooden building was modernized with wide windows that lit the interior with natural light. The seats outside were abandoned due to the fast approaching winter. We’d gotten our first taste of snow last week.
A logo of a cup of coffee with the steam spelled out “Cole’s Cuppa” adorned the quaint glass door. The opening days and hours were scribbled below the logo, a testament of my friend’s success and the time he’d put into opening this business. He might have hated the city when he went away to college, but he’d brought back a bit of that same city with him, and it was working for him.
I pushed the door open and cursed the little bell that gave away my arrival. Several customers raised their heads, but as soon as they saw me, most looked away. I snatched my hat off my head and ignored everyone.
A quick scan of the coffee shop showed Cole wasn’t around. Good. I had an excuse to dash out again. I turned to go and bumped into a broad-shouldered man. He quirked one pierced eyebrow at me.
“Law, you weren’t sneaking out, were you, you son of a bitch?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t see you.”
“So next time take a fucking seat and wait till I show up.” He clamped a hand on my shoulder and steered me to an empty table. Because I was exhausted and could do with a few minutes to get my bearings, I allowed him to propel me forward.
“I can’t stay for long,” I warned him. “Gotta get back to the ranch.” Was it even fair to refer to it as a ranch without any animals save for a few dozen hens?
“You’re so stingy with your time.” He released me, and I plopped down onto the seat. “Give me a few, and I’ll be back.”
“Fine.”
Cuppa, as his shop was affectionately called, had brought a new sort of life into this drab town in Colorado since it opened two years ago. Now everyone stopped by to have a cup of coffee, a slice of whatever cake Cole had baked, and gossip. It was the latter that kept me away from town.
From the line at the cashier’s station, Cole would need more than just a few minutes to get back to me. I fished my phone out of my pocket and turned on Wi-Fi. The phone was an older model, and it took a considerable amount of time for the new settings to activate.
Finally, it connected to the café’s Wi-Fi, and after a few seconds passed, the notifications came in. Without any Internet access so far out on the ranch, my only options were to have a data plan with my mobile carrier or hook up to the café’s free connection whenever I was in town.
A quick check showed emails from the bank as well as my credit card company. And one from my car insurance company, reminding me that my insurance would be up in two weeks.