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"I eat dinner at the café."

"Oh…"

"I always knew you were…" The thought trailed off.

Isabel frowned. He always knew she was… what? He couldn't possibly know a thing about her.

"Stay the hell away from me," he barked, then swung around once more.

With his motion, Isabel was peppered with berries. They hit her bodice, shoulder, and one on her cheek. He disappeared, and she had a good mind to holler out good riddance. But she kept quiet. She had one up on him.

As soon as she felt it safe to move, she foraged the hillside for the berries that had scattered; then she resumed her clean sweep of the path.

All the way down the hill, Isabel picked up John's fallen berries and claimed them for her own. Yes, there was a great deal to say about being the wiser sex.

Women kept their pillowcases mended.

* * *

Chapter Two

"Pour me a tequila, Saul." John propped his elbows on the Republic's bar and turned to acknowledge Duster Hobson, the only other patron in the saloon. The old-timer sat in one of the chairs at a table, too bowlegged to keep his foot on the brass rail. "Hey, Duster. Haven't seen you in a while."

"Went over to Ojai to visit with my sister." His chin glistened with snow white stubble, his hair the exact same color. A weathered hand lifted a beer bottle to his mouth.

John turned, his eyes following the drink as Saul put the shot glass in front of him. Sliding the coin beneath his fingertip, John paid the barkeep. Except Saul didn't remove his grasp from around the crystal rim. "Money's no good today. Twenty-five berries for the liquor."

"What was that?"

Saul motioned to the sign hanging above the cash register.

On account of the Contest, the

California Republic Saloon ain't taking money for

the next seven days. All drinks are to be paid for with

berries, at a predetermined price set by the barkeep.

Yours truly, Saul

John leveled his gaze back on Saul, who shrugged. "I've got a bar to run. I can't go out and scour the countryside for berries. I want to win as much as the next guy. This is how I'm going to do it. Some men just won't give up their liquor and they’l pay top berry to get a shot."

Irritability churned inside John. "Well, this is a hell of a way to run a bar." The drink sat not but three inches from him. He could smell the liquor. He could almost taste it.

John could let days pass without a drink. He wasn't dependent. Only today he didn't want to go without the fire burning sweetly across his tongue. Right now, he wanted that tequila. "Saul, I've got some berries at home. Float me for an hour and I'll bring them by."

Saul's hand didn't flinch. "Sorry, John. No berry credit."

The glass began to slide back, away from John's reach. He swore up a storm inside his head. He yanked his hat off, creased the crown, then smashed it back on. Thumping his boot off the rail, he turned around.

Duster's face lit up as he enjoyed his cold one. John scrutinized the bottle.

"Duster, can you loan me twenty-five berries?"

Setting the beer down, Duster leaned back in his chair. "I'm a man of few needs. Never carry extra money or berries on me. Goes against the simplicity of my nature."

"Well dammit all."

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