Noah held the door open for an older couple as they exited Wilma’s, then stepped inside and breathed in the scents of fried chicken and strawberry-rhubarb pie. He made a quick visual sweep for Amanda but didn’t see her.
Lucy and some of her bridge-club friends sat at a table midway along the far wall. A couple of ranchers occupied two other tables, and a pair of high-school girls sipped milkshakes near the window.
“Hey there.” Sally Jo, the owner’s daughter, flashed him a smile. “Should I bring you a Coke, light on the ice?”
He smiled. “Thanks.” He sat in the center of the dining area, facing the door. Seemed odd Amanda hadn’t beaten him here, considering he’d driven in from the far edge of town. Had she changed her mind?
He was just about ready to leave when she pulled up in a gray two-door, then parked along the curb and hurried inside. Dressed in flannel shorts and a baggy T-shirt, with her long hair pulled up in a messy bun, she looked like she’d just rolled out of bed. Then again, she’d likely worked late the night before.
She glanced around, made eye contact, then strode toward him. “Hi.” The chair legs screeched against the linoleum flooring as she plopped down across from him. “You eating?”
“Hadn’t planned on it.” He wasn’t sure he could stomach much of anything right now, after the way his day had been going and, based on this little meeting, could continue.
“Mind if I do? I’m starved.”
“Go ahead.” He resisted the urge to fidget or drum his fingers on the table while she scoured the menu. Either she was stalling or she was one of the few Sage Creek residents who didn’t know everything Wilma’s offered by memory. As soon as Sally Jo had taken her order, he crossed his arms and said, “So what’s this about?”
Her face lightened a shade, and she took in a visible breath. “Like I told you when I called, I tend bar at the Brew Hub. Been there for going on two years now. I work most every Friday and Saturday night, and I’ve heard a lot of stories. I guess once people get to drinking, they forget I’m there, or maybe they don’t care I’m listening.”
“Okay.” Where was this headed?
“Last night, Ralph came in, probably around seven or eight. I’m not sure, because we were pretty busy, and I was the only one there, you know? At first, he kept to himself, but then, after ten or so beers—Look, I know I should’ve cut him off.”
He encouraged her to continue with a wave of his hand.
“Anyway, he got sloshed and started chumming it up with this other guy, a dude I hadn’t seen around much before. The two of them got into some sort of rap-sheet competition, trying to prove who was tougher, I suppose. They started talking about all the bad things they’d done, how many people they’d riled up, what they’d been arrested for.”
This conversation wasn’t heading in the direction he’d thought it would. Though leery to hope for anything positive at this point, his gut no longer felt so tight. Still, so far, she hadn’t told him anything he didn’t already know. The fact that Ralph had a record would weaken his credibility, for sure. But not enough to get him to back off the lawsuit.
She glanced around, then leaned in. “He’s playing you.”
“Yeah, I know.” Again, nothing new there.
“No, I mean, that’s what he said. That he’s playing you and expecting to get a big paycheck out of it. The other guy told him that no one would believe a loser like him. But Ralph said it didn’t matter because he’d get his payoff before y’all even went to court.”
What did this mean? Could they use this information somehow? But it’d only be the word of a bartender against that of the felon.
“I just wanted you to know.” She took a sip of her water. “You and that ministry of yours do a lot of good. No one wants to see you get taken to the cleaners like this, especially not for some loser drunk like Ralph Emmerson.”
“Would you be willing to testify to all this?”
“I can do one better.” She placed her phone on the table and tapped the screen. “I recorded everything. Sent it to myself using a voice-recording app.”
He blinked. Could it really be that easy? Lord, this is You, isn’t it? It had to be. This whole scenario was too perfect not to be God-orchestrated. He released a breath, so relieved he nearly laughed. “Can you forward that to me? And my lawyer, too?”
“Um...maybe. Let me see if I can find you.” She tapped on her phone a few times. Then it responded with a whoosh. She grinned. “Sent.”
It took all his self-control not to jump up with a whoop, but the grin expanding across his face likely conveyed his enthusiasm. “Thank you, Amanda. I cannot thank you enough for this. Really.”
“No problem. If you need anything else, don’t be afraid to holler. You got my number now, and know where to find me on social media.” She laughed.
“I will.” Noah’s lawyer might want her to testify, though he doubted it’d get that far. Once Ralph heard his slurred voice touting trash in that recording, he’d drop his lawsuit right quick.
Noah returned home to find Kayla sitting on the front steps while Timber kicked a large ball around. When Timber saw him, he squealed, “Unca!” and came running toward him.
Noah picked him up, tossed him over his shoulder, then dropped him back to his feet. It felt good to have someone so excited to see him. “Hey, bud. You been good for Aunt Kayla?”
He nodded and toddled back toward his ball. She stood and dusted off her hands. “You seem chipper. Good meeting?”
He grinned. “Better than good.” He relayed what the bartender had told him.
“Is that legal? To record a conversation without a person’s knowledge?”
He frowned. “As far as I know.” Please don’t tell me that woman’s recording, today’s meeting, was all for nothing. Just when his hopes had started to rise again. “Worst-case scenario, she can testify to what she heard. But at least now my lawyer’s got something concrete to work with.” And if nothing else, today’s encounter reminded him that God was with him and his ministry. When life became crazy, it was easy to forget that.
He glanced past her, through the opened door of the house. “How’s Sophia?”
“Probably dreaming about a river of formula and mashed bananas.”
“Appetizing. No more fussing?”
She shook her head. “Been happy as a baby in a satin blanket ever since our walk yesterday.”
He studied her. “What’s up? I can tell you’ve got a lot of thoughts swirling, fighting to come out.”
“I came to Sage Creek to make sure the kids were okay. I never expected to fall in love.”
With him?
“But those children...”
His heart sank. Of course, she’d been talking about them.
“I know I’ve never been a mom.” Tears shone in her eyes. “So I can’t really say this, but I love them as if they were my own. You know?”
He swallowed. “And you and I, do we have a chance?” The question he’d been aching to ask had finally popped out. Only now he wished he could take it back, because in the not knowing, at least there was hope. But if she turned him down? He wasn’t sure he could take that.
“Honest answer?”
He winced inwardly but kept his expression blank. “Yeah.”
“I don’t know. I care about you. I really do. Under different circumstances, maybe.” She sighed. “But everything feels so complicated, not to mention our worlds are so far apart.”
“Think you might move here?” For me?
She studied him for a moment, and tiny lines were etched across her forehead. “What about my business? I built it from scratch. Poured my heart and soul into it for nearly ten years.”
“Your assistant seems to be managing it well enough.”
She gave a defeated laugh. “I’m not so sure about that. Besides, interior designing is who I am. I can’t give that up.”
“Start something here. Remodeling businesses, man caves and nurseries.”
“What about you? Can you see yourself living in the Pacific Northwest?”
Could he, for her? His ministry was doing a world of good for so many. Men were getting their lives—and their families—back. Legacies were being changed. Could Helping Hands survive without him? And how would he earn a living? He’d promised his mom he’d never return to bull-riding.
Inside, Sophia started to cry. He turned toward the house. “Coming, baby girl.” He paused just inside to glance back. “Can we finish this talk later?” Though he really didn’t want to. He wanted to deal with it all now, to know where they stood and if there was any hope for the two of them.
“Sure. I should go, anyway.”
How had he grown so attached to all three of them in such a short period of time?