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“All right, everyone out now.” Jesse made a shooing motion to the four adolescents who continued to stare at Hunter as if he were some type of hero. “Give Hunter a chance to rest. Paul, take your bike down to Michael’s pharmacy and ask him for something for the pain.” He grabbed Paul by the shoulder as the boy turned to leave the room. “Oh, and tell him we will have the whole family here for dinner Sunday, so there’s no need for him to rush over to see his brother.” He winked at Hunter. “Believe me, son, the family has grown by leaps and bounds and they can be a lively bunch. You need to rest up before they descend upon you.”

Three weeks later

“I got fired.” Hunter slumped on the chair in front of the fireplace.

Tori lowered the newspaper she’d been reading to stare at him. “Which job was this one?”

“The bartender job at the Blue Bell Saloon.”

“What happened?”

“A customer got pretty rowdy when I told him he was too drunk to buy any more drinks. Big John took exception to one of his employees discouraging drinking in his saloon, so he fired me.”

The saloon job had been one in a string of employment attempts he’d failed at in the three weeks since he’d been home. Every day it was becoming more and more apparent he had no place in the world. Once he’d taken off his Ranger badge he’d felt lost. That small medal symbol represented him, as much as his job. Not all rangers wore badges, but when he’d had his made from an old Mexican coin, he wore it with pride, and never took it off.

“I hear Bruce is looking for some help down at the bank.”

“No.” Just the thought of setting foot in a bank tightened his stomach muscles. He’d always carried his money around with him, and when that wasn’t possible, he kept it in a locked box within reach. He’d never crossed the threshold of a bank, nor would he ever.

“Maybe it’s time you took Michael up on his offer to work at the pharmacy.”

Hunter ran his fingers through his hair and shifted in his seat, wincing at the abrupt move. “I don’t want charity from my family.”

“Oh, I don’t think Michael has any idea of not getting his money’s worth from you.”

It had reached a point where he had no choice. He hadn’t lasted as a bartender, a cook, a retail store clerk, or the lousy factory job he’d taken when he first came home. He’d been stupid to even think he could stand for hours on end.

Sure, he had plenty of money from his years of living frugally, but a man needed a purpose in life. He needed to get up each morning excited about the day, what he would accomplish with his hands and brain. What he could do to make his world a better place.

And there was still unfinished business that he would not give up on. Once he was on his feet, he would resume his search.

“All right. I’ll go see him in the morning.”

He made his way to the back of the house and entered his room. It actually felt good to have a permanent place to return to at the end of each day. One day he would get a place of his own. He’d ignored the not-so-subtle nudges his sisters had been making since his return. It was obvious they both wanted to plan his wedding. That would never happen. The last thing he needed was a wife who he could lose in a flash and break his heart. One he would not be able to protect from the ills of life. His heart had been ravaged enough, and not by a woman.

Best to stay single and be responsible for no one but himself.

After a quick wash-up, he changed his shirt and headed back out. He’d left off the crutches about a week ago, but he still had a decided limp and pain when he stood or walked too long. Another reason he didn’t do well on the jobs he’d had. But he was not the type to sit all day.

Not feeling up to a family supper tonight, he walked to the Harvey House restaurant at the train station. From what he’d heard, they had some decent food and even pretty young women working as servers. He could use a little bit of cheering up, and nothing would work better than some fine female scenery while he enjoyed his steak.

The new Santa Fe Depot on the east side of the tracks housed the restaurant. Unlike other depots, this one had been constructed with red bricks. A two-story section stood at the center of the building, with one-story wings on either side. Right now the area was busy with the arrival of a train. Those who were home for the evening strode away from the depot, newspapers tucked under their arms, and those in between trains headed to the restaurant.

The delicious scents of roasting meat and baked bread reached him before he even opened the door. A man greeted him, bowing as he entered. “Good evening, sir. Did you wish to dine with us this evening?”

“Yes, sir. Just myself.”

“Very good. However, we do require gentlemen to wear jackets.” He hurried on when Hunter turned to leave. “We have jackets here for our customers’ use, and we would be happy to supply you with one.”

Hunter stopped and grinned as his stomach let out with a rather embarrassing growl. “I guess I’d better take you up on your offer.”

“Very good, sir. Just one moment, please.”

Hunter looked around the restaurant while he waited for his jacket. Several young women dressed in black shirtwaist dresses, adorned with a white bib and apron hurried from the kitchen area to tables filled with customers. The tables were covered with white linen cloths and silver table service. It was no wonder they required jackets. The restaurant reminded him of the fine establishments where he’d eaten in Dallas. He never expected to see such a place in Guthrie, Oklahoma.

“Here you are, sir.” The man from the front desk held out a black jacket which Hunter slipped on and then followed him to a table near a window that revealed another train pulling into the depot.

He studied the menu, pleased at the tempting choices, when he heard a slight “Oh,” and before he looked up was immediately doused with a copious amount of very cold water. Jumping up, he sucked in a breath, and looked up from his wet clothes. “What the . . .”

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