Page 5 of The Map Home
“Curtis,” Dakota allowed, giving him a small smile. “How’s the news business doing?”
Dakota’d gotten to know Curtis Lewis when Tad had interned at The Chron while finishing up his degree in journalism And liked the older man. He was quite the character around town, not afraid to voice his opinions or to apologize if he was wrong.
Curtis shook his shaggy head of snow-white hair. “Busy as always, lots of irons in the fire, got some interesting stories starting to come together. Were you helping to sort out that mess on the highway earlier?”
Dakota and Ben, the dispatcher turned deputy, had spent a good two hours helping to untangle a four-car accident caused by clear ice and an unsanded area of road. One driver’s door had been stuck shut, and it had taken them a bit to get him out of the vehicle.
“I was there,” Dakota confirmed. “Luckily, the drivers were going below the speed limit, but they all still slid across that patch of ice like hockey pucks. Only their cars and egos were damaged.”
“That’s good news. Hey, Jacob,” Curtis called out to the other bartender on duty, “can I get a pint of that red ale?” He returned his attention to Dakota. “I know we’re used to our snow around here, but things are a bit much out there right now.”
Dakota agreed. He wished people would just stay inside until the county got the roads under control. But no, everyone thought they were the best driver and that everyone else was the problem.
Jacob set a full pint down in front of Curtis. “Can I get anything for you, Dakota?”
“Nah, I’ve got a double again tomorrow and through the weekend. No rest for the new guy and all that.”
“Gotcha,” Jacob said. “Happy holidays, right? I’m on call all weekend too. Fingers crossed the phone doesn’t ring.”
Jacob Gost was in his late twenties and had moved to Collier’s Creek a few years ago from an even smaller town in Oregon. Dakota didn’t know his story, but no doubt Tad did. He was also ridiculously attractive, which made Dakota automatically distrust him. Granted, he’d never done anything to deserve Dakota’s misgivings, but it paid to be cautious.
“You’re still doing the volunteer fire gig these days, right?” asked Dakota.
Jacob flashed a grin, practically blinding him. “Yep.”
Tad returned from delivering someone’s dinner, giving Jacob a friendly shoulder bump out of the way. “Go see what Harley, Kellen, and Radko want.”
Jacob rolled his eyes but wandered off in the direction of the Twisted Pine ranch hands.
“Well?” Tad demanded, frowning at Dakota.
Dakota pretended to misunderstand Tad’s question. “It’s an alright ’stache.”
For reasons Dakota wasn’t privy to, Tad had decided to grow a mustache. Dakota wasn’t a fan of the Very Hungry Caterpillar, as he’d privately named the growth. It was taking too much time to fill in and currently looked like something an underage kid would grow so he could try and buy beer or get the part of the pizza delivery guy in a porn clip.
“Give the kid a break. A good mustache takes time and patience,” Curtis interjected.
Curtis himself sported an impressive handlebar mustache and full beard, both just as white as the hair on his head. He’d heard that kids often mistook the newsman for Santa Claus.
Glancing up, Dakota saw that Tad was shooting a death glare at the older man, probably pissed off that he’d been called a kid. Tad was actually several months older than Dakota but had a baby face. Dakota suppressed his grin.
Tad opened his mouth, probably to try again to get Dakota to promise he’d come to the bonfire, but a loud whoop from the table of ranch hands interrupted him.
“God damn the McDonald brothers. And Jordan Ellis and Nick Levine too. Why did they have to choose tonight to get wasted?” Grumbling under his breath, Tad departed again, presumably to help Jacob the Sexy Firefighter with the rowdy group of guys.
Dakota twisted around to watch the yahoos in question. An empty pitcher, several pint glasses, and a half-dozen cocktail tumblers littered their table. The guys were laughing, Jordan and Harley the loudest of all. Nothing new there. Just as Tad arrived at the table, they all stood up and threw down various amounts of cash, likely equaling twice the amount of the bill. It couldn’t be said that they weren’t generous.
“Pool at Randy’s next,” Nick announced loudly. “I’ll pay for the first game. Loser has to sleep with Jordan.”
“I am not losing, Jordan is a bed hog,” Kellen declared even louder. “Whose place are we crashing at anyway?”
Dakota didn’t hear the answer as they were out the door before the reply came. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about those guys. Well, he would, because between all of them, they had about as much common sense as a garter snake, but it sounded like they wouldn’t be on the roads tonight. Small mercies and all that.
“How’s it going at the Sheriff’s Office? Morgan treating you okay?” Curtis asked, a newsman’s curiosity sparking in his blue eyes.
Dakota watched Tad and Jacob clean up the now deserted table. Jacob said something and Tad laughed in response. A zing of jealousy pinged through his chest, which he quickly stomped out.
Nope, nope, nope.
