Page 55 of Nomad

Bud glanced to Garland and back to Brant. “Okay.”

“The club would like to make you an offer of employment.” Bud blinked twice and took a deep breath. “We have members who live at the club and others who have their own place, but stay sometimes. We keep somebody on who tends the bar and keeps it stocked, tidies up, does the grocery shopping and cooks meals a couple of times a day. Our girl who’s been doin’ the job is takin’ off. She got sweet on a biker from Tucson and he’s makin’ her his old lady. As it happens, Cann told me you have the skills that match the job requirements. You know how to cook and clean up.”

Bud was near dumbstruck. She’d been trying not to think too hard about what was going to happen when she got to Austin. She had eight hundred dollars and some pesos to exchange, but she knew she had to get a job that would issue a paycheck soon. What Brant was saying sounded like manna from heaven.

“I, um, don’t know how to bartend, but I can figure it out.”

Brant gave her a warm, fatherly smile. “I have no doubt of that.

“The job doesn’t pay six figures and there’s not much down time, but it comes with a room, a scholarship, and people who’ll care what happens to you.”

For a minute she was afraid she’d suffered a brain blip.

“A place to stay?” she croaked.

“Yeah. And when you get ready to go back to school, the club will pick up the tab and make sure you have time to go to class.”

She took a big breath. “That’s…” She couldn’t really find the words. It wasn’t just an offer she couldn’t refuse. It was everything in the world that she and the baby needed. A job. A place to stay. Maybe the safest place anywhere. And a chance to go to school.

Garland reached over and squeezed her hand. “He forgot to tell you that it includes health benefits. I’ve already made an appointment for you to visit the obstetrician tomorrow. I’ll take you myself. If you want to accept what the club is offering, that is.”

Bud was still speechless, but nodding her head. She felt overwhelmed, like she’d cry if she tried to make a sound.

The waitress arrived with their burgers.

“Wow,” said Garland. “How did you get these done so fast?”

“Oh,” said the waitress, “this time of day we’ve always got meat on the griddle and fries in the basket. Somebody always comes through that door who wants what we’re sellin’.”

“Smells wonderful,” said Garland, nabbing a fry. When she realized Bud wasn’t eating, she said, “What’s wrong?”

“I just… I’m not sure how to thank you.”

“Now listen here,” said Brant. “You don’t need to thank us. Once you start dealin’ with my boys you may decide that cussin’ me out is more appropriate.” He took a bite, started to chew and said, “Um.” He looked at Garland. “Good stuff.”

She nodded her agreement.

“You’ll have to learn to stand up to the men, but somehow I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem for you, darlin’.”

She smirked at the use of darlin’. “I’ll do my best, um…”

“Call me Brant.” He looked at his wife. “You can call her Your Highness.”

Garland slapped his arm playfully. “Garland. Please.”

Bud popped a French fry in her mouth, chewed, swallowed, then said, “Does, um, Johns live at the club?”

Brant and Garland both heard the underlying sentiment in that innocent question. It wasn’t unusual for teens to have crushes on good-looking bikers, but Brant and Garland both, privately, thought it was more. The longing of a person who might be mature beyond her years.

“He’s been away a long time,” Brant started slowly. “Had some heartache.”

“I know,” Bud said.

“He told you?” Brant sounded surprised.

“Yes.” Bud nodded and Brant’s gaze flicked to Garland.

“Well, he’s been gone a long time and he doesn’t have a place of his own. So, yeah, when we get him out, he’ll be at the club. For now. Cann requires what you might call special handling.”

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