Adam smiled because that used to be him. Other kids in Valentine were snowboarding today, but these probably couldn’t afford to. It had been difficult to be a kid in the Rockies who didn’t snowboard, another thing to set you apart.
But life was what you made of it, and Adam had used his childhood to motivate him to change himself. These kids would, too. And in some ways, Adam had been lucky. He’d had a horse to love and take care of. His father rode it when he was hired on as a temporary hand at the nearby ranches—including the Silver Creek. Adam’s job had been to look after old Star, feed him, exercise him. Being responsible for something other than himself had been satisfying though he hadn’t realized it at the time. His dad must have sold the animal, he mused. Surely, it had a better home now.
He wasn’t ready to go back to the boardinghouse and his grandmother’s patient glances, so he stopped in to Tony’s Tavern for a beer. The tavern was close to the highway, and there was usually a motorcycle or two. Inside, the décor was full of neon signs between mounted deer heads. The bar ran the length of the front room, flat screen TVs showed college basketball, and the dartboard had a line of men waiting to use it. In back, he glimpsed a pool table under a spotlight.
The bartender glanced up as Adam hung his coat on a hook by the door, then slowly grinned. “Adam Desantis,” he said, and it wasn’t a question.
Adam smiled and strode to the bar, where they shook hands across the top. “Tony De Luca.”
Tony had shaggy brown hair that still seemed long to Adam after the high and tight haircuts of jarheads. But Tony’s expression was open and friendly, and Adam knew there would be no judgment here, no expected answers to questions he didn’t want. Tony was a few years older than him, but they’d known of each other. And talking to someone else would help him forget other bars in foreign countries, and the ghosts of other men.
Adam ordered a beer and took a seat at the bar. “Still playing hockey?”
“I’m on a few teams. I’ve even got my boy playing.”
“Wow, a family man.”
Tony shrugged his burly shoulders beneath the flannel shirt. “Not so good at the family part, but my son and I are a team.”
He set a bottle down in front of Adam, who took a welcome sip.
“Divorced?” Adam asked.
Tony nodded. “You?”
“Out of the Marines now. No family—except my grandma.”
“Glad to see you’ve come back. Valentine always welcomes its heroes. A group of vets meets here regularly for a darts league.”
Adam’s smile faded. He was putting the past behind him and had no wish to relive someone’s idea of the “glory days.” “I’m nobody’s hero, Tony. I just did my job.”
Tony nodded and turned to ring up another customer. When he came back, he asked, “Are you sticking around town for long?”
It wasn’t the first time Adam had been asked. “I don’t know. Depends on how my grandma is doing. And don’t tell me you need a guy for your team. You know I didn’t play.”
“I know. Just wondering if you were looking for something to do.”
“You have no idea,” he said dryly.
“Having fun at the boardinghouse?”
“Word gets around.”
“Hey, you gotta expect that. Heard you were involved in some excitement at the Silver Creek Ranch.”
“Then you heard it was nothing much. Horses are safe.”
“And Brooke.” Tony watched him closely as he dried a beer mug.
“She’s safe, too.” Adam took a swig of beer, meaning that in more than one way.
There was a sudden bark of laughter from the back room, and inside, he felt the flinch he always got at loud noises. His weakness really pissed him off.
Before Tony’s innocent questions could go further—how had he forgotten how nosy everyone was in a small town?—he said, “I’ll check out the game in back.”
Adam could feel Tony watching him as he headed for the back room, but at least it was friendly interest. As he moved down the length of the bar, others gave him curious looks. A couple guys were close to his own age, and if given a moment, he might have recognized them, but he kept moving.
The bikers in their leather vests and jeans had taken over the pool table, and Adam worked his way into the lineup and won a few games. He was a master at the concentration