Lone Calder Star Read Free Page B

tell the new guy," she suggested.
    "No need to," John Earl replied. "He'll find out for himself soon enough."
    Dallas was quick to detect a tone that hinted at inside information. "What do you mean?" she demanded and fought to contain the sudden sense of rage that swept through her.
    "Nothin' really." But John Earl's smug smile was back. "Just that he won't find anybody there to hire him."
    "You mean " it took her a second to remember the name of the man in charge of the Cee Bar-"Evans left? I hadn't heard that."
    "You didn't expect him to put a notice in the paper, did you?" John Earl grinned.
    "But why did he leave? No, let me guess. It had to do with his health, didn't it?" Anger seethed just below the surface of her words.
    "His health," John Earl repeated in amusement. "Guess you could say that."
    Dallas had no doubts that the threats had been subtle, yet very clear. It was almost enough to make her sick. Worse, though, was that feeling of being utterly powerless to do anything about it.
    A hamburger platter mounded with fries was shoved onto the serving side of the kitchen's pass-through window and a corpulent hand punched the counter bell, the sharp ding of it signaling to Dallas that her food order was up.
    The timing couldn't have been better as far as Dallas was concerned. It gave her a ready excuse to break off the conversation with John Earl. She slipped off the stool and went behind the counter, circling around the cowboy. She collected the hamburger platter from the window shelf, scooped up some ketchup and mustard, and carried all of it to the stranger's table.
    "Thanks," he said with an upward glance when Dallas set it before him.
    She had trouble meeting his eyes. John Earl was the cause for it -and the things he'd told her about the Cee Bar. She reminded
    herself that it was the stranger's had luck and therewas absolutely nothing she could do about it.
    Instead she glanced at his nearly empty cup. "I'll bring you some more coffee."
    When she returned with the pot, the elderly couple were waiting at the cash register to pay. She left Quint's table to take their money, eliminating that chance to strike up another conversation with her.
    Quint idly watched as she chatted with the pair. He had the distinct impression that the couple didn't have her whole attention; her thoughts were somewhere else. He decided that was hardly a surprise considering the sizable gap in their ages. By the time she climbed back on her stool, the Page 7

    cowboy had rejoined his friends at the table. Once again the girl immersed herself in the book's printed words.
    The trio of cowboys engaged in desultory conversation, the low, lazy drawl of their voices providing a backdrop to Quint's meal. Occasionally the easy quiet of the cafe was broken by the clink and clatter of glasses and pans coming from the kitchen.
    As Quint chewed the last bite of his hamburger, the cowboys pushed their chairs back from the table in ragged order. One dug some coins out of the side pocket of his jeans and tossed them on the table for a tip. Together they ambled toward the cash register counter near the door, their glances sliding curiously to Quint.
    One of them abruptly came to a decision and swung toward his table. Quint was quick to recognize him as the same cowboy who had been talking to the waitress earlier.
    "Dallas told me you were looking for work," the man said without preamble. "She said you'd heard the Cee Bar was wanting a hired hand."
    Quint leaned back in his chair, giving the appearance of one fully at ease. But there was an instant sharpening of all his senses. "That's right."
    "Now, it's no skin off my nose what you do, but if you're open to some friendly advice, you'll forget about that job." Quint cocked his head at a curious angle. "Why's that?"
    The cowboy paused over his answer. "Let's just say you wouldn't like working there, and leave it at that." He concluded the statement with a curt bob of his head and moved off to rejoin his