Page 71 of Savage Heart

I ignore the small twinge of satisfaction and slide the mug to Maverick. He tips his hat and walks back to the booth.

Millie Claire laughs, her eyes skirting around the room to see how many people are watching. All eyes are on her.

Her expression is scathing when she turns back to me. I lift my eyebrows, and she huffs and stands, grabbing her purse. “Wipe that smug look off your face, Iris. Just because Maverick is having a lapse in judgment today doesn’t mean the rest of us are. We all know what you did,” she says and stalks out.

I walk into the kitchen and stare at Kell. “You won’t believe what just happened. Maverick just cut in while Millie Claire was berating me.”

“Maverick is here? No way,” she breathes. “Dammit. I miss all the fun being back here.”

We both giggle, and I snap my fingers. “Forgot to leave this.”

I place the omelet order on the counter and go back out.

The rest of Maverick’s meal is less eventful. His eyes are on me while I work, but he doesn’t say anything else. After he eats, he pays and leaves. I don’t think he’s been in Prairie Rose Soda Fountain since Lincoln died. The two of them were always here, especially on the days I was working.

Otis takes Linc to feed the horses, and then they pick me up at work. We go see my mom, but she’s sleeping the whole time, so we don’t stay long.

“Ready to eat?” Otis says as we walk out. “Linc and I fixed something in the Crock-Pot earlier. Should be ready by the time we get there.”

“I’m starving,” Linc says.

When we walk into Otis’s trailer, the smell of pork roast fills the space.

“Mmm, I can’t wait to eat,” Linc groans.

“Wash your hands and see what you can do to help, please,” I tell him.

Otis starts shredding the meat and points at the rolls.

“Open those for us, would you, Linc?” he says.

Linc dries off his hands and opens the bag of rolls.

“Do you still have your barbecue sauce?” I ask Otis. He makes the best there is.

“Sure do. It’s in the fridge.”

I get it out and fill the glasses with ice, and before long, we’re sitting at the table with piled-high pulled-pork sandwiches, slaw, and potato chips. It’s quiet for a few minutes while we fill our faces.

“Now . . . it’s time to break the bad news to ya,” Otis says, pointing his fork at me. “I’m afraid Betty’s out of commission for a while.”

I sigh. “Is she gone for good?”

He shakes his head slowly and makes a face. “She’s a dramatic one, but I think she’s still got some juice in her.”

“If anyone can bring her back to life, you can.”

“Best decision I ever made, bringing her home for you.” He grins.

I grin back. “She’s been a keeper. I hope she’ll keep going. Not quite ready to get a new car yet.”

“I think it’s her alternator. I’ll know more tomorrow.”

I take a big bite of sandwich. “You sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course not. In the meantime, I brought a Buick home for you.”

I laugh. “That cream car out front? The one that smelled like cigarettes just walking past it?”