Page 9 of Jackson's Redemption
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Bud’s
Later that night
Kate
“Really?” I asked as we walked up to what Jackson said was the lone bar/restaurant in town. It was a square, brown, clapboard building that looked like it had been around since the Gold Rush. “This is it?”
“This is it.”
Earlier he’d dropped me off at the cabin so I could nap and recover from the ten-hour flight here. Although he’d driven his truck, he said we could walk into town. He walked me past the all-purpose store that was owned by Gert, a smattering of homes owned by the locals, a gas station then Bud’s.
This was it. The town of Hope’s Point. I was from Arizona. I knew about small towns, but this was crazy.
“Doesn’t there need to be a post office?”
A lip twitch. “Gert’s.”
“What about a doctor or clinic or something?”
“We’ve got a medical support team at the camp. Technically they are only responsible for Dyson employees, but they’ve set the occasional arm or leg for the locals. The folks who live out here know the risks and they all have a basic knowledge of first aid.”
“How many locals are there?”
“Hard to know. Some folks live out in the woods so makes it difficult to keep track. They’re the kind who really like their privacy.”
“I can only imagine,” I muttered. We walked into Bud’s and I could see the place was pretty full. All men, too. Definitely not a place for a woman who was easily intimidated.
I thought of the blonde I’d met today as she was leaving. She looked like sunshine and lightness, but she must have had a spine of steel to handle her two weeks here.
All eyes were on me and rush of anxiety nearly overwhelmed me.
I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready to do this. To be with strange people in a strange place.
Except I hadn’t been able to stay with familiar people in a familiar place, either.
I took a breath. My father was killed five months ago. My life was turned upside down five months ago. I shouldn’t be here, but it was too late. I was already here.
“You okay?” he asked when I froze where I stood.
“A lot of people looking,” I said around a lump in my throat.
“They won’t look for long.”
Jackson directed me to a table and pulled my chair out, which I hadn’t expected from him. He waved toward another table across the room as if acknowledging the presence of friends, but he didn’t make introductions.
“I’ll get us some beers and see what Bud’s offering.”
I nodded and tried not to fidget in my chair. I was clearly being assessed by everyone around me. Which was only natural given they must not see new people very often.
Did they know about the contest? Did they know why I was here? Who was I kidding? A town this small of course everyone knew why I was here.
Only they didn’t really know. Couldn’t know my real reasons.
But as soon as Jackson returned with two cold bottles of beer, everyone instantly went back to their own activities and conversations. Like he said, they didn’t look for long.
“Don’t worry. No one here will bother you.”
