Carla's Cowboys

It had been a rough couple of days when Carla Burchfield eventually decided to treat herself to a decent night’s sleep in a proper bed. The Melrose Motel’s dim lights beckoned her and she sighed as she found the entrance and dumped her bags on the well-worn carpet of the dusty reception.

“How long’re you staying?” The old man behind the desk looked bored and smelled of stale pipe smoke.

Carla looked around at the run-down building. It wasn’t at all welcoming, but the prospect of a real bed made it the most inviting place on earth. “I’m not actually sure. Can I just pay for tonight and take it from there?” She pushed the peak of her cap up a little, trying to assure the guy there was nothing shifty or suspicious about her. In fact, the cap was hiding her greasy, uncombed hair as much as it was attempting to disguise her.

The old guy scratched his white hair and nodded. “Sure. Twenty bucks for the room. If you want breakfast there’s a café across the street.”

Carla nodded and handed over the money. She’d noticed the café on the way here and been disappointed to find it closed. It was almost ten o’clock and the place was deserted.

“Is there anywhere to eat now?” she asked hopefully.

The man shook his head. “Nope. We don’t get many people passing through here so there’s no need.”

She could certainly see why!

She followed his directions to her room, disappointed but not really surprised. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since noon. She had a couple of candy bars in her bag and a bag of potato chips that would have to tide her over until morning. She pulled the cap from her head as soon as she was alone, causing her long dark curls to fall manically around her shoulders. She was looking forward to a good shower and the chance to wash her hair. She found the room and quickly opened the door.

The first thing that caught her eye was the bed. It was a single, and the eiderdown looked quite thread-worn and faded, but it made her heart sing. She dumped her bags, locked the door and leaped onto the bed. It was hard but not as hard as the ground she had slept on last night, or the park bench from the night before. She had spent her first night away on the train, which was more comfortable but she hadn’t dared fall asleep then.

This felt sumptuous and cozy and she immediately closed her eyes. Relief swept through her whole body and she sank into the lumpy mattress.

She must have fallen asleep as she opened her eyes a while later to find the room in total darkness. Even the dim light that had filtered in from the street when she had arrived had been switched off. She quickly fumbled around for the light switch before pulling off her clothes, and had a wash at a basin in one corner of the room. The nearest bathroom was down the hall, she’d remembered, and she threw on a nightshirt as she went to find it, being careful to lock her door as she left.

As soon as she returned to her room, she rummaged in her bag for her journal, which she wrote as she devoured the snack from her bag. Even the potato chips did little to abate the growls from her empty stomach, and she looked forward to getting a good meal in the morning. She had been so busy concentrating on getting away from Sheridan that she hadn’t bothered to stop for proper meals. She’d grabbed whatever she’d been able to at whatever station she had found herself at before hopping on another train. She figured she must have traveled far enough by now, and hoped Jerome and his gang wouldn’t think to look for her in South Dakota, let alone a little place like this. It was so out of the way and she had walked for hours since leaving the tiny train station several miles away.

She climbed into the bed and relished the feel of the covers against her tired body. The softness of the pillow and the coolness of the cotton sheets surrounded her in a decadence she had not afforded herself since that dreadful night.

Her mind whirled as she recalled the look on Jerome Pearson’s face as he’d celebrated his victory with Quinn Mason and Steve and Oliver Hutchings. They’d bragged about the horrified look on Mr. Roberts’ face when they’d pulled out their knives, and had forced him to open his safe as well as his cash till. The drug store had netted them almost forty-seven thousand dollars, and they were planning to split it four ways. Trouble was, they’d been so busy drinking to their success that none of them had been still capable of counting the money, let alone guarding it.

Carla had seen a side to her boyfriend she had never imagined, and in that first few seconds her love and adoration turned to hate and loathing. He was nothing but a common thief who enjoyed tormenting old men, threatening their lives if they didn’t hand over the money they had worked so hard to make. She had known Mr. Roberts for several years, and had comforted him at his wife’s funeral. Betty Roberts had been a good friend to her when she had first arrived in Sheridan, and she had even given her a job for a while.

Once the men had drunk themselves to sleep she had taken the opportunity to grab the money and run. That money was for Mr. Roberts and she just had to figure out a way to get it back to him without landing herself in trouble. She knew Jerome and his buddies would kill her if they caught up with her, but she had to do something. Mr. Roberts didn’t deserve this and she was determined to help him.

The memories of that night haunted her dreams and her mind reeled with possibilities as she drifted off to sleep again.

When she woke she actually felt much better. It was already after eight-thirty, and she smiled as she looked around the little room. It was very sparse, with just one old rattan chair in the corner and an even older chest of drawers against one wall. The carpet was worn and the paper was peeling from the walls, but to Carla it was luxury. Even the damp, musty smell that hung heavily in the air wasn’t enough to darken her mood.

She felt a lot more human once she had showered and dressed in clean clothes, and she grabbed her bags and headed out to the little café for some breakfast. The smell alone was heaven, and when she saw the size of the portion she was given her heart leaped. She devoured the huge breakfast along with two pots of tea and several slices of toast.

“You look like you haven’t eaten in a week.” The round lady behind the counter grinned.

Carla didn’t want to tell her how long it had been since she’d had a decent meal, so she just smiled and tucked in. She was quite a large girl and could probably do with losing a few pounds, she thought, but there was certainly a limit to how long a girl should go without proper food.

The two bags sat on the bench next to her, one containing the few clothes she had thrown together, and the other with the money. She had stuffed the notes into a duffel bag, hoping it would look inconspicuous, and she guarded it with her life. Until last night that had meant not having a proper sleep in case someone tried to take it from under her head, where she used it as a cushion while the strap was tightly wrapped around her wrist. That was why she had slept so soundly last night, she supposed.

“Is there a bank near here?” she asked the woman, who took her plate away.

“About half a mile away it is,” she told her with a smile. “We’ve got a post office down the road but that’s it. Folks don’t usually hang about here—they just drive right on through.”

Carla nodded. She had looked out for local amenities when she had arrived last night, but in the dark it was hard to see much at all. She paid for the meal and set off for the post office where she bought a large postal box and a black marker pen.

“You from Cavern County?” the young girl behind the counter asked her.

“No, I’m just passing through. If I get this ready to send, will it go in the post today?”

The girl nodded. “Post gets picked up this afternoon. If it’s anything valuable you’re sending you’ll need to fill in one of these.”

She handed Carla a form. Damn! Not only did it require her to declare the contents of the parcel, but also to give her personal details. She bit her lip thoughtfully. “How far is it to the nearest town?”

“About half a mile in that direction there’s a small place called Almondine. There’s not much there, just a few shops and stuff. The next town after that’s about a mile on, that gets you to Pelican’s Heath. It’s not much bigger but the people are real friendly there.”

Carla thanked her and took the box, hoping that one of those places was where the nearest bank would be. She went back to the motel where she had spent the night. “Please can I stay another few nights?” she asked the old man, who looked surprised to see her again.

“Sure you can. Pay up front, mind. Your room hasn’t been serviced yet so you can stay there if that suits?”

“Great.” Checking her wallet, she reckoned she could afford five nights. That should give her enough time to get some much-needed rest and the space to clear her head and figure out her next move. She smiled and took the key from him.

Once locked in the little room, which already felt like home to her, she emptied the contents of the duffel bag into the postal box and addressed it to Mr. Roberts at the Sheridan drug store. She toyed with the idea of sending it, giving false personal information on the dang form, but realized that it would leave a paper trail leading back to the post office—and her whereabouts. Damn! Of course, she would be moving on soon anyway, and had signed in the hotel register under a pseudonym but the post office was bound to have had security cameras that could easily identify her, and it wouldn’t take long for Jerome or the cops to track her down. She sighed. Maybe she could find another post office and go in disguise, again giving false information? She’d have to get somewhere a long way from here to do that, just to be on the safe side. Biting her lip, she mulled over the idea. She would give it some more thought, and figure out a way to put the plan into action later.

The box was too big to go back into the duffel bag so she pulled her clothes out of her overnight bag and managed to squeeze the box in there. Then she stuffed her clothes into the duffel. She was disappointed not to be able to fit her diary with her clothing, so she slid it into the hold-all with the box, making a mental note to remove it when she had deposited the bag. She might want to write in it later anyhow, so it would be useful to keep it with her.

Okay, back to plan A.

Taking the overnight bag, she headed back out and set off for the bank. She was used to walking so it didn’t take her long to find the nearest town. Almondine was quite busy, and had several large shops. The main road through the town was noisy and people were everywhere. She found the bank at the end of a busy street. It was much bigger than she had expected and she wasn’t sure whether that was a good or bad thing.

“I’d like to rent a safety deposit box please,” she told the elderly lady behind the counter.

“Of course, dear. How big do you need it?”

Carla held up the overnight bag and the lady nodded. She gave her a key and told her how the system worked.

“You’ll need to sign in each time you come,” the lady explained, “and it’s your responsibility to keep this safe.”

It was an unusually shaped key, and Carla attached it to the chain around her neck which held her silver initial pendant. She never took the necklace off and it was long enough to tuck into the top of her T-shirts so no one would notice it anyway.

Carla felt relieved as she locked the bag away in the special box and watched the lady secure it in the bank’s vault. It had cost her almost all of her remaining money but it was worth it. She had signed the paperwork with a false name and tucked her copy into her back pocket as she left. Empty-handed, she went back out into the sunshine to explore the area a little. She’d have to make some more cash if she was going to keep running—and she wondered if she should have splashed out on a motel room after all, but she really didn’t want to sleep rough again.

The sun was high and she was quite warm in her gypsy-top and jeans. She was wearing boots today, having been in sneakers since she’d left Sheridan. She knew she had a few blisters but nothing she couldn’t handle.

Wanting to put some distance between her and the bank, she followed a sign which led out toward the west. Half an hour or so later she arrived in the town of Pelican’s Heath. The main street was quite busy, though not half as congested as the last town she had been through. This place had several small shops, a doctor’s surgery and what seemed to be a couple of office buildings.

“Good morning.” A handsome cowboy lifted his hat and smiled as he passed her.

“Good morning.” Carla beamed. He seemed a few years older than her, but a good-looking guy all the same.

Several other townsfolk greeted her as she meandered through the narrow streets. That girl sure was right about them being friendly around here! It was a very pretty little town, with mountains in the distance, and fields and hills nearby. She spotted a small diner at the end of what appeared to be the main road through town, and her stomach told her it must be lunch time by now.

She could just about afford some coffee and a burger, which she devoured eagerly. After the breakfast she had eaten she didn’t think she could ever eat again, but there must have been something about the fresh air and relief of getting rid of that cash that gave her appetite right back to her. I’ll have to decide how to get the money to Mr. Roberts, but at least it’s safe for now.

“Mind if I join you?”

She looked up into the greenest eyes she had ever seen. A big smile accompanied them and the body attached was to die for. Carla felt a warm, fuzzy feeling in her stomach as she nodded speechlessly and watched the tanned, muscular god sit opposite her. She could smell his spicy aftershave as she breathed him in like he was her life source.

“Hey, Matt, what can I get you?” the young waitress chirped, smiling at him. She must have noticed him arrive.

“I’ll take a hamburger, please, Maisie. Easy on the onions, though—I might want to kiss someone before the day’s out.” He chuckled, and the waitress rolled her eyes with a smirk.

“You want coffee with that?”

“Need you ask?”

She didn’t even bother to write down the order, just giggled and headed back to the counter.

“Hi, I’m Matt Shearer. You new in town?” His smile was contagious and his eyes were mesmerizing.

Carla smiled. “Carla Burchfield.” The words were out of her mouth before she had time to think—not that it was easy to think with this gorgeous hunk in front of her, anyway—and she silently cursed herself for not changing her name.

“Nice to meet you, Carla.” Matt’s strong hand was across the table in an instant and she couldn’t resist snuggling hers into it as they shook. She felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her as they touched, and the warm feeling inside her ignited into a burning flame. “Are you staying around here?”

Carla was tongue-tied by his beauty. He had thick, dark hair that hung in soft waves around his collar and the stubble on his chin gave him a roguish air that she found totally irresistible. He wore jeans and a gray shirt that was partially unbuttoned, allowing a few dark chest hairs to peep through. She nodded.

His meal arrived and they slowly let go of each other’s hand as he took up his cutlery. The waitress smiled as she collected up Carla’s used plate, but she didn’t speak.

Carla sipped her coffee as she watched the gorgeous guy tuck into his meal.

“So, Carla. What do you do?”

His question threw her for a second and she gasped. “Whatever I can find,” she told him as casually as she could.

“There’s a job going over at the general store if you’re looking for work?” He grinned as he told her, obviously noticing her watch him eat.

He licked his lips slowly, and she felt that fire inside her grow into a raging inferno. She liked the idea of working here and seeing him around all the time.

“Really?” Carla couldn’t believe her luck. “I’ve worked in a drug store before. Think they’ll take me on?”

“It’s worth a try. Tell you what—I’ll come over there with you if you like, and put in a good word for you.” He winked and she felt something stir inside her, a little farther down than her tummy. Oh shit!

“You don’t know me,” she reminded him, finishing her drink. “Thanks for the tip off, though, I might give it a try.”

She forced her feet to move and took a deep breath as she walked away from Matt Shearer—and temptation!

“The job’s yours if you want it.”

Carla’s heart leaped and she felt like hugging the lady behind the counter. “Thank you so much.” It was a huge relief that the woman hadn’t mentioned references or past employment, though Carla had casually mentioned that she had helped out in other stores in the past.

“You wanna start right away? I haven’t had a lunch break yet, and it won’t take long to show you how to use the cash till.”

“It’s just like the one I used to use,” Carla told her happily. “I might be a bit rusty though.”

The woman laughed. “It’s just like riding a bike, honey.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Bellingham. I’m so grateful to you.”

“Oh now, call me Delores, everyone does.” Her new boss tapped her on the arm in a friendly manner. “Frank’s out back if you need anything. I’ll go call him.”

As she went off to find her husband in the staff area out the back of the counter, Carla took a good look around the store. They seemed to sell a little of everything here, from fish to fuse wire. She smiled. It was clean and tidy and everything was labeled up. She thought she would enjoy working here.

“Hi there, you must be Carla?” A white-haired man with a big grin came out to meet her.

“Yes, sir. I’m just starting here today.” Carla shook his hand, smiling.

“Well it’s good to have you on board, sweetie-pie. Delores does all the out-front work around here while I do any lifting and shifting. If there’s anything you need you just holler and I can pop through at any time.”

Frank was a friendly soul, and Carla took an instant liking to him. “Thank you, sir, I will.”

Delores came out from the back of the store with a bag in her hand. “I’m glad you’re getting acquainted. I’ve just got a couple of errands to run. I can see having a third pair of hands is gonna make life a lot easier from now on. I won’t be long.” She winked at Carla as she made her way to the front of the store. She was a very large lady and only just managed to fit down the narrow aisle of the little shop.

“Well if you’re all right to keep an eye out here I’ll just go put the kettle on.” Frank smiled as he disappeared out the back.

Carla took a look around the shelves, trying to familiarize herself with the layout. It was all very neat and she guessed that Delores was meticulous about tidiness. The floor was clean and there was not a speck of dust on the shelves. Afterward she returned to the back of the counter. Paper bags hung from hooks in size order, and she could see where the paper was kept for wrapping bread. A small basket sat on a shelf under the counter, containing tape, scissors, a price-gun and some spare ticket-rolls. She smiled at the good order the place was in.

A bell sounded to alert her that someone had come into the store and she looked up to see a gorgeous pair of bright green eyes walking toward her.

“You got the job then?”

“I sure did. Thank you so much for putting me onto it.” Carla smiled shyly and felt herself tremble a little.

“Here’s your coffee, sweetie-pie.” Frank arrived and placed a steaming mug on the shelf beneath the counter.

“Hi, Frank. Hope you’re looking after her well.” Matt winked cheekily at the old man, who sniggered.

“I look after all my ladies,” Frank replied.

Carla giggled. “Thank you,” she said, picking up the cup.

“Well she’s sure gonna brighten the place up a bit for you.” Matt chuckled.

“Are you saying my beloved wife doesn’t?” Frank raised his eyebrows playfully.

“Your Delores is a fine woman,” Matt assured him with a chuckle.

“Humph.” Frank huffed as he turned to go, but Carla saw him give her a sly wink as he left.

She giggled. They sure liked teasing each other around here.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked him with a flirtatious smile. He certainly was a handsome man.

Matt smiled. “Actually I just stepped in to congratulate you on your new job.”

“How did you know I got it?” She frowned.

Matt giggled. “Delores just came into the diner. Word gets around quick in these parts.”

“Oh, I see.” Carla couldn’t help feeling a little unnerved, and vowed to be mindful of the rampant grapevine in Pelican’s Heath. She bit her lip nervously. “Well, that’s real kind of you, Matt. Is there anything you need now that you’re here?”

Not only was she aware of Frank loitering in the back room, listening to her chatting instead of serving, but she also felt a little awkward around the handsome hunk. He was gorgeous, there was no doubt about that, and he did unholy things to her body just by being this close, but she had to remember that she was actually hiding out and couldn’t afford to get close to anyone—much as she’d like to.

Matt looked around at the nearby shelves. “Maybe some of this pancake mix,” he said, examining a packet.

“You use a mix for pancakes?” She didn’t mean to be rude, but the words just tumbled out in her surprise.

Matt raised his eyebrows at her. “You mean you don’t?”

“Of course not. It doesn’t take a minute to whip up some flour, egg and milk first thing in the morning. I usually let it stand while I take a shower and then it’s ready to cook.” Carla put a hand to her mouth as she realized that she had revealed a little more about herself than she’d intended.

Matt was looking at her with a salacious grin, and there was a worryingly sexy look in his eyes. “Is that right?”

Carla bit her lip again. Damn! She took the packet from him, blushing profusely. “I’ll just ring this up for you.”

She was well aware of him chuckling as she rang the sale and bagged it for him. He was still smiling as he took it from her and handed over the cash. She relished his hand brushing over hers as the coins dropped into her palm and she felt the fire burn inside her again. Glancing up, she saw his deep green eyes flash excitedly at her and she was shocked to feel a gush escape her pussy. Swallowing hard she quickly looked away, and was surprised not to hear him chuckle again.

“Thank you.” Her voice came out as a whisper and she felt herself tremble slightly.

The bell on the door rang again to alert her to another customer and her eyes immediately darted over to an elderly lady who had just arrived.

“I don’t know you,” the gray-haired woman announced accusingly.

“This is Carla Burchfield. She’s new to Pelican’s Heath. Carla, meet Mrs. Taylor. Her daughter runs the clothing shop down the street.” Matt introduced them before Carla had even had chance to open her mouth.

She smiled at the lady, who was studying her curiously. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Taylor.” Carla couldn’t help feeling a little unnerved at the thought of everyone knowing about her, especially as she was trying to keep a low profile, but hoped that it was a small enough community that it wouldn’t cause her any problems.

The old dear acknowledged her from her position near the door and began selecting groceries from the shelf.

“Where do you work, Matt?” Carla hoped the cowboy might take the hint and leave. She was a little agitated at his knack of telling everyone about her, and even more agitated at the effect he was having on her underwear.

“I’ve got a small farm just up the way,” he told her casually.

“That must be a lot of work,” she remarked.

He laughed. “Yeah, well, I’m not afraid of hard work.”

She sighed. That wasn’t exactly what she meant. “Do you have people working for you?”

“A couple.”

The glint in his eye told her he knew exactly what she was hinting at but he was darned if he was going to let on.

Mrs. Taylor barged past him with her basket of goods and placed it on the counter in front of Carla. “Isn’t it time you got back to work, Matt Shearer? Some folks have jobs to do even if you haven’t!”

Matt chuckled and replaced his hat, nodding politely at the women. “Yes, ma’am.” He winked at Carla. “See you around, Carla.” He touched his hat and nodded one more time before heading for the door.

Carla sighed with relief, wishing she had the nerve to be so forthright—although she had to admit to missing him the second he had left her.

“You’ve gotta be straight with them.” The shrewd old lady seemed to read her thoughts as Carla rang up the shopping.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll try to remember that.”

“You’ll need to if you’re ever gonna get anything done ’round here. Folks in Pelican’s Heath just like to gossip. Stand around all day just chin-wagging, some of them would. And this shop’s a good meeting place for ’em all to join up in. You living around here?”

“Not far away.” Carla tried to sound nonchalant as she finished bagging the groceries.

She noticed Mrs. Taylor’s eyes narrow again as she handed over the cash. “Hmm. Secretive type, are ya?”

Carla flushed. “No, of course not.” She tried to laugh but it came out more like a high-pitched cackle as her nerves got the better of her. “I’m staying just outside of town, that’s all.”

“Hmm.” Mrs. Taylor was clearly unconvinced as she took up her shopping, and Carla was afraid she had offended the old lady.

There wasn’t time to say any more, though, as a man entered the shop just as Mrs. Taylor neared the door. He stopped short when he caught sight of her, and Carla gasped.

“Hi there.” He was another good-looking cowboy, and he touched his hat politely as he sauntered up to the counter. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Carla felt herself bush. “Hi, I’m Carla. I just started here today.”

He removed a glove and shook her hand. His fingers were long and warm and enveloped her own hand, which she had never actually thought of as small. “Aiden Fielding. I own the ranch just over the back there.”

Carla was sure she was expected to elaborate a little more about herself, but she was desperately trying to not tell her life story to every stranger she met today. There was something about these people who just seemed able to pry everything out of her.

“You from around these parts?”

Here we go again! No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find a way of not answering him which wouldn’t make her seem rude. “Nope. Are you?” She decided that maybe asking a few questions herself might defer attention from her.

“Yeah. Lived here all my life. Where are you from?”

Some hope!

“Wyoming. It sure is nice around here. I can see why you wouldn’t want to leave.”

“Never really had much of a choice. My parents owned the ranch and once they died my brother and I took it over. Just natural progression, I suppose,” he told her. “What about you? You travel a lot?”

“Not really.”

“You planning to settle here in Cavern County?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I’m hoping to stick around for a while, though, especially now that I’ve got this job.” Carla shifted a little uncomfortably, well aware that Frank Bellingham might be listening in and didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. She had only just been taken on and didn’t want him thinking she was about to leave town any time soon.

The doorbell chimed again and a couple more men walked in.

“Well, I’d best let you get on. I only came in for a couple of postage stamps,” Aiden told her.

She stared at him blankly.

“Delores usually keeps them in the cash till,” he explained.

“Oh, right.” Blushing, Carla opened the register and sold him the stamps, watching his cute backside as he swaggered out of the shop. He was a good-looking guy, and very friendly, but somehow he didn’t seem to have the same effect on her as Matt Shearer.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, as the shop was very busy. Carla enjoyed her new job, and loved meeting the townsfolk, most of whom were really friendly. Some of the older customers seemed a little suspicious, which was perfectly natural, she thought, and she scolded herself for feeling a little disgruntled that Matt didn’t reappear. She was surprised at how much he had affected her, considering they had only just met. Silently cursing herself for being so weak, she persuaded herself it was a good job he hadn’t come back to the shop, as he seemed to be able to pry information out of her that she would rather have kept secret. Her original plan of giving a false name and background had gone completely to pot as soon as he’d flashed those gorgeous emerald eyes her way. I’d never make it as a secret agent!

“You’ve done a wonderful job today.” Delores beamed at her. It was nearly six o’clock, but Carla felt as though she had only just started work.

“She even got Matt Shearer to make a purchase when he just stopped by to say hi,” Frank chuckled, popping his head around the corner of the back room.

Carla blushed.

“Think you’re gonna like it here?” Delores smiled.

“Oh yes, ma’am. Everyone’s so friendly.”

“Good. Can you make it back for nine in the morning?”

“Of course.” Carla nodded.

“You OK for getting home? Is it far?” Frank asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. No, it’s not far.” She only just managed to stop herself telling them where she was staying—not that it was a great secret, she just felt that the more she kept back from folk the safer she would feel. “I’ll see you both in the morning. Thanks again for taking me on.”

They said goodbye, and she left the shop. Although it was still light outside, the street was quite empty. Carla wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or not. At least with no one to talk to she couldn’t get into a conversation about herself again—although she did feel a little lonely as she walked down the street and out of the town. Luckily she had a good sense of direction and found her way back without any problems. She grimaced as she avoided the bank when she passed through Almondine, and was relieved when she finally arrived ‘home’.

The little round lady was wiping down the tables of the café opposite the Melrose Motel when she arrived back, and she smiled as Carla walked in.

“Not too late for some supper, am I?” The young brunette looked nervously around at the empty tables and guessed the woman was hoping to close soon.

“No, take a seat and I’ll bring you over a menu. I’m Maggie, by the way.”

“Thank you. Carla. I’m staying at the Melrose.”

“I know,” Maggie told her as she handed her the sheet of card.

Carla smiled. Of course she knows—everyone knows everything around here!

“You planning to stick around a while?” Maggie asked.

“I hope so. I just got a job in Pelican’s Heath.” Carla figured there wouldn’t be any harm in Maggie knowing, and was hoping they could be friends. The waitress wasn’t much older than her and she was very cheerful.

“Well I’m real happy for you, honey. What will you be doing?”

Carla told her all about her day, and Maggie had a coffee with her while she ate her dinner. It was nice to have company for a change, and she had certainly met a few people today.

Afterward, she went back to the motel and slowly climbed up the stairs to her room. Exhausted and happy, she flopped onto the bed. There was no TV in the room, but it didn’t bother her. She lay there relaxing for a while then sat up.

My journal, where is it?

She wrote her diary every night, no matter where she was or what she was doing. It was something she had done ever since she was a child. She searched her bag then checked all around the room. Her blood ran cold for a second as she thought about what was written in it. If anyone finds it… That thought took her back to the money and the safety deposit box and she remembered with a relieved sigh that she had tucked the diary in the same bag. It was now locked away safely where no one could read it.

Carla undressed, perusing the idea of going back to Almondine to fetch the book in the morning, but realized that she couldn’t because of work. Never mind, it’s probably safer where it is, given the details it’s got in it.

That diary held every thought she had had, and every concern. She always wrote everything down at the end of the day, and sometimes partway through, so it contained all her suspicions about Jerome Pearson and his shifty friends, and what time he came home. When they’d first got together she thought she loved him, but lately a lot of the things he said and the way he acted just didn’t add up. She had also jotted down snippets of conversations she had overheard so that she could attempt to decipher them in the morning when she wasn’t so tired. She hadn’t really made sense of any of it until the night they came home after robbing the drug store, though. That was when it all slipped neatly into place. As she had written the outcome and her thoughts and plans about it, she had been able to decide her best course of action. On reflection, she thought, the book was probably better kept where it was, especially as she would have had to leave it here, unattended, every day while strangers cleaned the room.

She quickly washed then climbed into bed, finding the hotel notepaper on the night stand. She used it to jot down details of her day, and her thoughts. As soon as her mind turned to Matt Shearer she felt that funny sensation in her stomach again and she groaned quietly.

She abandoned her journalism, stuffed the papers into the pocket of her bag and lay down to sleep, as a vibrant pair of green eyes invaded her dreams.