Page 37 of Gotta Dig Deep
“Sounds like him.” Oaky laughed and slapped a hand on Duane’s shoulder. “We’re lucky sumbitches, you know that?”
“Yeah, we are.” Horse didn’t hesitate to agree. “My lucky day when me and Junkyard rode into Longview looking for something good.”
Duane stood, a smirk curling one corner of his lips. “Lucky day for all of us.” He indicated the door with a tip of his head. “Better get that coffee in you so you can hit the road.”
“Agreed.”
As Horse made his way around the table, Oaky stood and pulled him into a one-armed clinch. “Shiny side, brother.”
“Shiny side.” Horse repeated the words, the familiar warmth of the brotherhood shared filling him.
“Prospect,” Duane yelled, yanking the door open. “That coffee ready yet?”
“Yes, patchholder.”
By the time Horse made it to the kitchen, another mug of coffee was waiting for him.
Two hours later, he was less pleased with life in general. He’d slipped out of Longview along Highway 80, headed west, and then peeled north and west after Hawkins. The Iron Riggers clubhouse in question was near a rural town named Belle, but damned if he could locate the road the instructions said should be right here.
Idling into town, he parked along one side street and walked to a pharmacy half a block away. The temperature inside the business seemed to fall by a dozen degrees once the cashier caught sight of him. Horse hadn’t expected that, because bikers in general weren’t a rare sight in this part of Texas, and the Freed Riders patch was reasonably well known and respected. Not by this man, however, given the deep scowl directed his way.
Snagging a bottle of water and a candy bar, he stood in the short line waiting for the cash register, out of courtesy giving the little old woman in front of him a respectful nod. Once at the front of the line, Horse endured the glare, waiting until the man spat out the total before he risked a question.
“I’m looking for a farm-to-market road, one that’s supposed to head south out of town, but I didn’t see it as I rode through. Can you help me?” He pulled his wallet out and plucked a couple of dollars to slide across the counter. “I’d appreciate it.”
“FM2942 runs parallel to town before bending south.” The helpful voice came from behind him and Horse turned to find a man about his age, cowboy hat perched on top of his head. “Take this street down two blocks and turn right. Two more blocks and take a left. That’ll put you on the F&M, no problem.”
“Thanks much.” Horse inclined his head, reaching for the change from his purchase. The cashier deliberately missed his hand, dropping the coins over the edge of the counter, leaving silver and copper discs to bounce against the tile flooring.
“Oops.” The snideness of the non-apology ruffled Horse’s feathers, but he tamped down the anger. Nothing good would come of making a big deal over a few cents, especially in a small town like this.
“That’s okay,” Horse responded as evenly as he could. “Just a few pennies.” Nodding at the man behind him, Horse thanked him again as he walked away.
“Jacob, that’s a shitty way to treat your customers. Mayhap I should let your uncle Cooter know how you acted.” Seemed Horse didn’t need to take the man to task over his behavior since the man who’d given him directions was ready to step into that role. He left the business with a broad smile on his face.
The road was exactly where the directions said it would be, and Horse hummed along to the song playing from his speakers as he rode out of town.
Chapter Eleven
Glenna
Staring at the phone on the kitchen wall, Glenna shook her head, fighting off the unease that had settled over her in the past weeks. She’d called in her last feed order changes instead of going to store in town, but this morning had decided she would be damned if she’d let Jackson have that much control over her.
“He’s just an asshole.” A tiny huff of agreement came from the dog pressed tight to her leg. “Nothin’ to be afraid of.” Shamu whined lightly, his head seeking her hand. She gave in and caressed his soft-as-silk ears. “I’ll have you with me.”
Turning, she plucked an intertwining handful of leather and fabric strips from the counter.
“Which means we need to get the harness on.” At the dreaded word, Shamu’s ears laid flat back to his head. “Otherwise, you stay stuck in the truck.” His lip lifted slightly, showing a few teeth. “I mean, it’s your decision.” She made to put the harness down and he snorted, dropping his head to make it easier for her to slip it over his streamlined body. “There’s my good boy.”
Leash snapped to the harness, she followed him to the truck where he vaulted through the open window, not waiting for her to reach the door.
“Brat,” she scolded with a grin, letting the lead snake through her fingers. “Here we go.”
Their trip to town was quick, wind streaming in the open windows, Shamu’s happy face pushed hard against the current of air. Glenna backed the truck up to the loading dock before going inside, Shamu at her side. The usual crew of old-time ranchers greeted her, gathered on their feed barrels and five-gallon buckets around the cold potbellied stove in the corner of the store. Shamu remained quiet as Glenna conducted her business, ordering her normal lot of feed.
Chewing on the side of her lip, she hesitantly stopped the old store owner from turning away. “Bob, I’m thinking of leasing out the horse barn to boarders. When I’m ready to order in all the stuff it’ll take to convert things, how much lead time do you think you’ll need? I’m talking about hay nets, corner feeders, rubber mats for the stalls themselves, you know, fancy stuff like that.”
“Oh, let me give it a think.” His gaze dropped to the counter, flicking from catalog to catalog, looking like he was deciding which company would receive each part of the order. “Most it’d take would be a month, I reckon. We might find some things are easier shipped and some should be picked up in Dallas or Shreveport, but we could outfit you quick enough.”
