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But I was street smart, at least. My mom had prepared me well. Living in New York City, she’d always told me to carry a knife in my purse, and I hadn’t taken it out of my handbag when I’d flown here. I’d been a little bit shocked that I’d gotten through TSA with it, but I wasn’t about to question the fact that the X-ray hadn’t picked it up. Maybe they knew that I was going to need a knife with me once I hit Billings.
If push came to shove and someone tried to bother me, I’d knife them. I mean, I’d never had to knife anyone before, but I was pretty confident that I could do it.
Though as I looked around, it didn’t really look like there was much going on here.
I pulled into the parking lot next to a bunch of Ford pickup trucks, turned off the ignition, and got out of the car. I looked around, taking in the mountain range in the distance. I had to admit it was beautiful. I sucked in a couple of gulps of fresh air. My lungs had never felt happier. I looked down at my heels and wished that I had put on something a little bit more sensible, but I always had to be me, even if “me” was a little too ostentatious for a place like Montana.
I walked towards the bar door and looked up at the sign. 12 Point Buck Bar, it read. I had no idea what that meant. I walked in and immediately I could feel eyes upon me. There weren’t many people in the bar, and I felt extremely self-conscious.
I looked around to see if there were any women and was happy when I saw a few. Two girls in a booth chatting to themselves, and another girl with a biker dude at the back of the bar. At least I wasn’t the open woman there. I headed towards the bartender so that I could order a drink. I moved as if I were a model on the catwalk. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see two guys in a corner booth gaping at me. I couldn’t tell if they were impressed or shocked.
“Hey, there,” the bartender said, a wide smile on his face. I was glad to see that he was friendly. The last thing I needed was a grumpy bartender.
“Hi. Can I order a drink, please?”
“Sure. What you be having, miss?”
“What’s your specialty?”
“Well, we got lots of beer. You like beer?”
“I’m more of a cocktail girl.”
“We don’t really make many cocktails around here, but I could whip you up something.” He looked behind him. “We might have some coconut shavings and pineapple juice and stuff.”
“Um, maybe a rum and Coke, please?” I didn’t know if it was smart to have a rum and a Coke now that I was driving, but one drink wasn’t going to hurt me.
“Sure, coming right up. So, you new to these parts?” He grabbed a frosted glass from the bar top. I wondered if he was only used to serving beers, but I didn’t want to be rude.
“Yeah. You could kind of say that … very new.”
“Where do you live?” he asked. “I didn’t hear about anyone new moving in around here.”
“Actually, funny you asked that question. I kind of need your help.”
“You need my help finding somewhere to live?”
“Well, no, not somewhere to live, but I’m trying to find the place I’m going to be living.”
“You’re trying to find the place you’re going to be living?” He raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. You got people around here?”
“No, I don’t have any people around here. Well, I mean, kind of. Maybe … my in-laws.” I almost groaned as I said that word. It felt like a joke.
“Maybe your in-laws?” He stopped then and just stared at me, looking confused. “What does that mean? Hey, Austin, you hear this girl? She thinks that maybe her in-laws live here.” He started laughing. “Who are your in-laws, honey?
I wished I could take back the words. I looked to my right and saw a man sitting there, staring at me. I hadn’t noticed him before. He was tall with dark hair and laughing green eyes, but his expression was serious. From the look of it, he’d been listening to my entire conversation. Just great.
“Well, not in-laws.” I looked at the bartender and then at the handsome man next to me. I gave him a nervous smile but he didn’t smile back. “I mean, possible in-laws.”
“You know what that means, Austin? Because I sure don’t,” the bartender said. Austin just looked me up and down.
“I’ve got no idea, Chip,” he responded, chugging his beer. Then he looked at me. “Care to let us in on what you mean by that?”
“Well, I am kind of here to get married.” I tried not to wince. I didn’t really want to tell them everything because it was extremely embarrassing and I didn’t know them. But on the other hand, maybe if they kind of knew they could help me out in some way. Like if they knew the family and the family sucked then they could warn me.
He placed a frosty glass in front of me. “Here’s your drink, ma’am.”
“Thank you. How much would that be?”
