A Cowboy At Heart. Angel Smits

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СКАЧАТЬ of that old—

      Trey shook his head, focusing on Win’s words instead of the old pain.

      “Same as usual.”

      “You got it.” Trey pulled the highball glass out, and, as he fixed the drink, he kept one eye on his friend. “You okay?” Was Win paler tonight, or was it just the lighting?

      “I’m fine. Or at least I will be once you finish pouring.” He rubbed his gnarled hands together in anticipation, the rough rasp of his outdoor-worn skin loud even in the noisy bar.

      Trey slid the glass over the polished bar, the ice softly clinking when the glass came to a stop at Win’s elbow. “The others coming in tonight?” Usually, Hap and Sam were here before Trey finished pouring.

      “S’posed to be, but I ain’t seen ’em yet.” Win stared down at the drink. Was he also wondering where his buddies were? They were getting up in years...

      The door opened then, and a cold wind came in with a flurry of snowflakes. Sam held the door open for Hap, who pushed his walker slowly through the doorway. A pile of snow caught on the front of the tennis balls he’d shoved on the metal feet, and a puddle quickly formed as it melted. Trey made a mental note to wipe it up.

      “Where ya boys been?” Win called, lifting his drink in a silent salute before taking an exaggerated, taunting sip.

      “Ah, shuddup,” Hap grumbled as he reached the barstool beside Win. He nodded at the drink. “Gimme one of them, Trey.” He glared at Trey. “Maybe two.”

      “Yes, sir.” Trey fought the smile. He didn’t take Hap’s glare personally. Hap glared at everyone.

      Sam, on the other hand, grinned wide and took the farthest barstool, lumbering his big frame up onto it. The sheriff’s badge on his coat glinted as he shrugged the garment off. “I’ll stick with beer.”

      That wasn’t new, either. Trey couldn’t remember the man ever drinking anything else. Once he’d finished serving their drinks, Trey leaned against the back bar, watching the trio.

      What had they been like back in the day? He wished he could have seen them. Known them. They had to have been quite a wild bunch. And even though he was quite a bit younger, Sam told tales of how he’d tagged along with the older boys. Trey smiled at the image.

      He glanced over the half-dozen others in the bar, and then to the window where snow fell on the other side of the glass. Thick, big flakes of cold and damp. It was going to be a quiet night. He could afford to kick back and watch.

      “Whatcha think about that?” Hap interrupted Trey’s thoughts as he leaned forward to catch Trey’s eye. “I think he’s full of baloney.”

      Though Trey hadn’t heard the whole conversation, he didn’t have to ask who or what Hap was referring to. Win and Hap had this same argument every time they came in here. The razzing went on as usual.

      “I don’t listen to all your crap,” Trey said, a smile to contradict his denial firmly in place.

      “Ah, come on.” Win slammed the empty glass to the bar. “Sure, you do. Yer a bartender. Best listeners on the planet.” He shoved the glass toward Trey. “Bet you got plenty of stories to share.”

      Trey shook his head and refilled the glass. “I might listen, but I don’t gossip.”

      “Good man,” Sam said. He nodded and took a healthy swig from the long-neck bottle.

      “Humph.” Hap finished his drink, too, and mimicked Win’s movements to ask for another.

      While Hap waited, he turned awkwardly, digging in his pocket, and for an instant, Trey thought the old guy was going to fall off the stool. “You ain’t foolin’ us, boy.”

      Hap finally turned back around and pointed a bent finger at Trey, who breathed a sigh of relief as Hap regained his balance.

      Hap had grabbed an envelope from the pocket of his jacket. It was worn and crumpled, like someone had tried to destroy it at one time.

      Ancient cellophane tape had yellowed in several places. “What’s that?” Win leaned toward his friend and indicated the envelope with a hitch of his chin. “Looks older than dirt. Hell, looks like it’s been in dirt.” He cackled as if his comment was actually funny. “You out diggin’ in the cemetery or something, Hap? High school reunion?” Macabre humor was never beyond these guys.

      Was that a growl that left Hap’s throat?

      Whatever had been written on the outside of the envelope, if anything legible had been, was nearly worn away. Lifting the tattered flap, Hap pulled out another ancient piece of paper. Carefully, as if it were something precious, he spread it out on the bar top.

      To Trey, it resembled some kid’s scribbles more than writing. Hap reached into the envelope again and pulled out a second sheet of paper. A half page.

      “A telegram?” Win asked. Hap nodded. “When did you get that?”

      “I didn’t.” He glanced at Win. “Your dad did.”

      “What?” Win frowned.

      “I was a-cleaning up the back porch. Millie is nagging me to think about that retirement community they’re a-building up the road. Now, I ain’t sayin’ I’m willing to go there, but I gotta make her believe I’m at least considering it.”

      “Would you get on with it?” Sam prodded.

      “Hurumph.” Hap pushed the old telegram another inch toward Win. “I just found this. It was in a box I’d packed up years ago when I retired from the shop. Haven’t looked in it since. Thought it was all mine. Didn’t know there was any of your stuff in it.”

      Win hesitated before reaching for the telegram. Trey put one of his bartender superpowers to work—reading upside down. There wasn’t much on the page, so it wasn’t hard. Sent a map of our find. Will be in the post soon. Yours and Mom’s if I don’t come home. Love, Duncan.

      “Duncan? Your brother Duncan?” Sam asked.

      Silence was the only answer for a long minute. Win stared. Sam waited. Hap glared. And Trey pretended not to notice any of it. Finally, Winston took a deep breath. “Yeah.” He looked up at Trey. “My older brother. He didn’t come home from Vietnam.” He said it with the rhyme of a curse word.

      The word caught Trey’s ear, and he froze, his smile vanishing.

      “Vietnam.” Hap repeated it and Trey saw the other two nod. Were these guys vets? They were the right age. Same as his granddad. Trey cringed. Was that how Pal Senior had met Win? He’d never heard that story.

      Trey’s mind tripped back to all the other stories his grandfather had shared with every man who’d ever worked on the ranch. Back to a time when he’d believed every word the old man said.

      A bitter taste rose up in Trey’s throat, and he shoved away from the bar. His heart picked up a beat, and he curled his hands into fists. Curses echoed in his mind. This was so not why he was here. He’d come to Telluride so he could be totally on his own, to leave his past behind.

      Trey СКАЧАТЬ