“I heard that too. Get big enough, and they’ll act like locusts, laying waste to everything they cross.”
I shudder. One of the drawbacks of having a vivid imagination is that I can visualize such a scene with perfect clarity.
Nightmare.
“Well, I hope his group doesn’t join up with that. You’d have a hard time getting to him if they do.”
“I know.” He sounds bleaker than ever.
“I’ll ask around and see if anyone caught sight of him. Do you want beer and stew again?”
“Yeah. That’d be great. Thanks.” He’s been looking at me as we talk, but his eyes shift now to something over my shoulder.
Turning to look, my breath catches in my throat when I see Cade standing there. He’s perfectly still, looking between me and Cole with a blank expression.
I have no idea how long he’s been standing there, but it flusters me. And, more than that, I feel guilty.
Irrationally guilty.
“Hey!” I manage to recover enough to smile at him. “I didn’t see you there.”
“I see that.” There’s nothing angry or annoyed in his tone, but he sounds so gruff the words are almost a growl. After I shut him down last weekend, he backed off, and I was hoping things could settle back into something closer to normal.
But this isn’t normal. At all.
Flushing hot for no good reason, I nod toward the small table in the other corner of my section. “Maybe over there?”
Without a word but with another cool, slanted glance toward the other man sitting in his normal seat, Cade follows me to the table I indicated.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly as he sits down. “He got here first and was there before I could do anything.”
“You know him.” It’s a statement more than a question. He’s very bristly as he adjusts in the chair, as if it’s not as comfortable as it should be.
“Not well. He came by a few weeks ago.”
“You like him.” His eyes are narrowed into almost a glare now.
I suck in a breath as my back stiffens. “He’s fine. I just told you I barely know him.”
Cade just glowers darkly.
“Oh my God!” I’m still speaking in a hushed tone so no one else can hear. “You’re being ridiculous.”
I’m genuinely annoyed by his bad mood, but I don’t have time to let him have it the way he deserves because one of the militiamen calls me over.
I shoot Cade one more scowl before I go take orders from the large table.
I make Cade wait for his food and drinks. I serve Cole first. Then the militiamen. Then finally him.
He doesn’t appear at all chastened when I set down his beer and whiskey, so I don’t pause to chat. Instead, I take more orders and then go around asking the rest of the staff if they’ve seen or heard anything about the motorcycle gang led by the guy with the eagle tattoo on his scalp coming back through.
Rick saw them driving through several mornings ago, heading north on 29, so I hurry back to Cole to report the news to him.
He’s spooning stew into his mouth, but he pauses to talk to me.
“So maybe you’ve made up some time,” I say, trying to give the poor man any hope possible. “If it was five or six days ago, that’s a lot better than two or three weeks. So it seems like you’re catching up.”
He nods. “Hope so. Appreciate your help.”
