Zane had grown up in Creedence as well. He and Bryn had been a few years apart in school, but he hadn’t paid much attention to her back then.
But she sure had his attention now. Watching her tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear and listening to the sound of her laughter carrying through the diner had his gut doing the funny kind of flips he hadn’t let himself feel in a long time.
And I have no business letting myself feel them now either, he thought as he dug into the warm plate of biscuits and gravy Bryn set in front of him. Not after what happened with Sarah. He’d loved her, but look how that turned out. Tragedy and pain. Even now, the sound of an ambulance siren still made his chest tighten and his stomach roil. He wasn’t a bet any woman should take.
Bryn topped off the coffees of the two trailer guys as they ate, then leaned her hip against the counter. Her manner suggested cool nonchalance, but Zane knew different as he heard her ask casually, “Is that your horse out there?”
“Not ours,” Flannel Shirt said, his tone boastful and derisive. “But she’s in our trailer.”
Bryn eyed them, the first hint of suspicion showing on her face. “Why do you have someone else’s horse in your trailer? Who does she belong to?”
“No one. Not anymore.”
Her brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t get it, but I noticed she didn’t seem very happy.”
“I’m sure she isn’t,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders. “But it doesn’t matter. That nag is on her way to ‘a farm in the country,’ if you know what I mean.” He used his fingers to make air quotes.
Bryn’s eyes widened as a gasp escaped her lips. “You mean you’re taking her to…” She obviously couldn’t say the words, and her skin took on a greenish pallor.
Green Hat nodded, and his lips curved into a sly grin. “Yep. We’re what you might call a ‘waste disposal’ company.”
The color drained from Bryn’s face. “You can’t be serious.”
“As a horse’s heart attack.” He talked around the bite of hash browns in his mouth as he elbowed the other man in the ribs and laughed at his own poor joke.
“But why?” she asked.
“Who knows? And who cares? Not our business to ask. We just collect the horse and the fee. Then it’s our job to drop them off at the glue factory.”
Just as “casual” as Bryn had been, Zane kept an eye on the conversation, and he swore he saw the light blink in Bryn’s eyes as an idea occurred to her.
“Soooo if you’ve already collected the fee for her, what happens if she never makes it to the…” She swallowed. “The final destination?”
Flannel Shirt shrugged again. “Nothing, I guess. Except they have one less horse to slaughter.”
Bryn winced but wasn’t swayed by their obvious attempt to rile her. “So what if you just let her go? Or what if I took her off your hands? I live on a farm, so from what you said earlier, you’d still be fulfilling your obligation.”
Green Hat’s eyes went dark and predatory. “Where is this farm? Maybe we could stop by and visit before we leave town.”
A low growl formed in Zane’s throat, and his knuckles went white around his fork as he considered jabbing the utensil into the dirt bag’s eye.
Flannel Shirt put a hand on his partner’s arm as he eyed Bryn, working the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. “I can see you really want this horse”—he eyed her name tag—“Bryn. So we might be able to arrange something. I’m Raleigh, and this here’s my friend Gator. Why don’t you tell us what you have in mind?”
“Not the same thing he does,” she answered, flashing Gator a disdainful look. She forced her lips back into a smile as she regarded Raleigh. “How about I cover your breakfast and pack you a lunch for the road as well? I’ll even throw in a couple of slices of pie.”
He let out a scornful laugh. “How about you do all that and throw in a couple hundred bucks?”
Bryn’s shoulders sank. “I don’t have a couple hundred bucks.” She pressed her lips together, then inhaled a deep breath before offering, “But I’d give you my car in exchange for letting me have the horse.”
“The one you just told this whole place is broken down on the side of the road? No thanks.”
“Yeah, what are we gonna do with a broken-down car?” Gator chimed in. As casual as she tried to act, they knew they had her. “Couple of guys like us, we work on a cash-only basis.”
“I understand. I’m just a little low on cash right now.” She glanced around the diner as if mentally counting up her morning tips. “And there’s no way I can make that in tips today. But think about it: you giving me the horse only makes your job easier. That seems like a no-brainer for a couple of smart guys like you.”
These two idiots are the “no-brainers.” Zane held back a smirk as he reached for his wallet to pay his bill. He needed to get out of here before he did something foolish—like kick these guys out on their greasy butts and let the horse go. Or worse.
Raleigh tapped his finger on the counter, a thin line of grease visible under his nail. “No one’s ever offered to buy our load before, but you have a point. If we don’t have to drop off that horse, we can get home a day early. So maybe I’m feeling generous and willing to make a deal.”
“I’m listening,” Bryn said, crossing her arms protectively over her chest.
“You cover our breakfast and pack us a lunch, and we’ll give you that horse for an even hundred.”
“And don’t forget the pie,” Gator threw in.
Bryn chewed her lip, her gaze skimming over the diner patrons once more. Her eyes landed on Zane’s, and he held them a moment, knowing already what she was going to say.
“Deal,” she said. “Just give me a little time to drum up the cash. I’ll make some calls while I put together your lunch.”
Raleigh’s lips curved as his eyes went to the clock above her head. He knew he had a live one—he just had to reel in the line. “You’ve got twenty minutes. Or we’re leaving. With the horse.”
Zane rifled through the bills in his wallet. He’d just gotten paid. In fact, one of his errands that morning was stopping at the bank. Even as he fought it, knowing how stupid the idea was, he knew his deposit was going to end up being a little slim.
He’d had the biscuits and gravy meal before and knew his bill normally totaled a little over ten dollars, so he usually left fifteen. He sighed as he took two bills from his wallet and slid them under the edge of his plate.
“Thanks for breakfast, Bryn,” he told her as he slid off the stool. “I’ll check back in later to see if you need a ride home.”
“See ya, Zane,” she said, then glanced at the bills on the counter, her eyes and her grin widening as she saw the twenty and the crisp hundred-dollar bill sticking out from under his plate.
He turned and walked out of the restaurant, knowing full well he was going to regret that move, but yet, somehow his steps seemed to be as light as his wallet.
