AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“After you,” Martin said, waving Charley and Simon ahead of him into the red brick building.
The Steam Donkey was Cooper Springs’ only pub and its parking lot was about a third full today. November wasn’t tourist season, not even day-trip season, so that was to be expected. Martin could have taken Simon and Charley to Pizza Mart, but he figured Charley would take one look and give that place, with its linoleum flooring and teenaged pizza cooks, a hard pass.
It was the Saturday before the Thanksgiving holiday, and Martin didn’t have a good idea—or any idea, really—what to expect in his new town. In Seattle, the pending celebration meant everyone in the city ate their meals out in the days prior, filling the restaurants and making long lines at food trucks.
As he held the door for his friends, the ever-present wind buffeted against his back, as if trying to simultaneously tug the door from his grip and shut it at the same time. Martin held on to the doorknob tightly and, once inside, made sure the door was firmly closed.
The Donkey, as the locals called it, was maybe half full. Almost immediately Martin was too warm so he unzipped his Carhartt. Behind the bar stood a tall, broad-shouldered man who Martin thought was the owner, chatting with several patrons. One of them was Nick Waugh. Other diners and drinkers were scattered like salt and pepper across the rest of the space, and unidentifiable music played overhead. Possibly country, but Martin couldn’t quite tell.
“Oh, look,” Charley commented, not at all quietly, as he also removed his jacket. “It’s our friend, Edward Scissorhands.”
“Charley,” Martin said warningly.
“Calling it like I see it. Although I think Edward was supposed to be nice. I might have to come up with something else.”
“Do me a favor and don’t bother.”
Waugh had to have known they were there. From where he was standing, Martin could see their reflections in the mirror behind the bar. But Waugh didn’t budge, didn’t turn around, didn’t make eye contact in the mirror; he refused to acknowledge them.
Martin rolled his eyes, sighing. What was he going to do about his surly, angry tenant? Maybe nothing. Another eight months to go on the lease agreement and then Martin would be free of him.
“There’s a booth open.” Simon pointed to the back of the pub.
Sure enough, in a far corner sat an empty booth, ready and waiting.
“Let’s grab it.”
The three of them crowded around the heavy wooden table, then Charley and Simon sat together across from Martin.
“This place has some atmosphere,” Charley observed.
Simon frowned at his partner. “Be nice.”
“I am being nice. I could’ve pointed out a lot of things, but instead I said it has atmosphere.”
Simon rolled his eyes. “You use the word atmosphere the way your mother uses the wordinteresting. It always means she hates it.”
Martin suppressed a laugh. The bar did have great atmosphere, what with the exposed brick walls, timbered ceiling, and old-style pendant lighting.
Charley’s reply was forestalled by the arrival of the man who’d been behind the bar when they arrived.
“Gentlemen,” he boomed, “thank you for coming in on this dark and windy November eve. My name is Magnus Ferguson, and I’m the owner of this fine establishment. What can I get you started with?”
Smiling and rising slightly, Martin held out his hand to Magnus. “I’m Martin Purdy, the new owner of the Cooper Springs cabins. These two are my friends, Simon and Charley. They helped me move my things in today.”
Smiling broadly, Magnus shook his hand. Martin had half-expected him to play “who has the strongest grip,” but Magnus didn’t.
“Pleasant to meet you, Martin. It’s quite a project you’ve taken on. Everyone in town is on pins and needles, waiting to see what you do with the resort. There’s a lot of history around that place. My dad claims that Hollywood movie stars stayed there back in the day.”
“C-list stars, if you ask me,” Charley muttered.
“Hollywood stars?” Martin asked as Simon shushed his husband. “I wonder if there are pictures.” Martin knew he sounded like a little kid, but Hollywood? This was exciting news.
Magnus shrugged. Obviously, he didn’t think Hollywood was as thrilling as Martin did. “There might be. If I were you, I’d ask Forrest Cooper. If there are any around, he’ll know where they are.”
“Forrest Cooper? Is he related to the town’s founder?” Martin was eager to learn more about the history of Cooper Springs. “It would be cool to have reproductions of old photos and the like framed and hung up in the cabins. Give visitors a way to learn more about the town.”
Magnus nodded in agreement; he was more excited about a local than Hollywood, for sure. “Yep. His great-great-grandfather, August Cooper, built the timber mill and the town to go along with it. He also built Cooper Mansion, but the family gave that to the city in the eighties. It’s empty now,” he added somewhat sadly. “But anyway, what can I bring you to drink? And are you hungry?”
