Santa In Montana (Calder Saga 11)

They chatted a bit about the business. All the while Ross kept one eye on the kitchen area. Somewhere in the conversation Jessy got the sense that Ross hadn’t stopped by their booth merely to make sure the food was all right—or to be social. He had some other reason.

As she was trying to figure out what it might be, Ross leaned forward in a confiding manner. “I’m glad you stopped in here tonight, Laredo. A couple weeks ago I hired a new guy to work in the kitchen. A Mexican named Octavio. He’s been asking about you.”

“Really? Why?” Laredo’s tone was smooth but wary.

“Damned if I know,” Ross admitted. “But he knows your name and he knew you live in this area. Just not where.”

Stiffening a little, Jessy stole a worried glance at Laredo, not sure what any of this meant, but she had a feeling it wasn’t anything good.

“Did he say what he wants with me?”

“Not to me. But one time I did overhear him talking about you in Spanish to Miguel. Octavio mentioned your name and then said something about being sent by the wind. I probably got that part wrong, but that’s what it sounded like.”

“The wind, huh.” Laredo smiled. And it was the ease of his smile that Jessy immediately noticed. All that innate wariness was suddenly gone. “Now you’ve got me curious. If it’s all right with you, I’ll go talk to him and find what all this ‘wind’ business is about.”

“Sure. I’ll take you back.”

The two men eased out of the booth and Ross walked with Laredo to the rear of the restaurant, not far from their booth. Shifting in her seat, Jessy watched as Ross went into the kitchen and came out with the Mexican. After introducing him to Laredo, Ross left the two men alone.

She strained to hear what was said. Octavio’s voice was low and he spoke in rapid-fire Spanish that she didn’t understand. Laredo’s first words were clear.

“Slow down. My Spanish is a little rusty.” She made out that much in a lull in the restaurant noise.

Octavio appeared to comply, but a party of five came in, talking among themselves and calling out greetings. There was no way Jessy could hear Laredo’s conversation above their noise. She gave up trying and simply waited.

After a few moments more, Laredo returned to the booth.

“What was that all about?”

“Nothing, really.” He slid onto the seat beside her. “Sorry it took so long.”

Not buying his answer, she pressed for a better explanation. “It had to be more than nothing.”

“He’s just a friend of a friend, up here looking for a job.”

“Ross said he was working for him.”

Laredo nodded and checked out the dessert menu. “Yeah, but he’d like something with better pay.”

“Why is that your problem?”

“It isn’t,” he said absently. “That chocolate cake looks good. Or maybe I’ll have a slice of pie.” He glanced up at her, his gaze shuttered. “But I don’t mind vouching for the guy if he wants to hire on as a cook somewhere.”

“You mean the Triple C?” Jessy frowned.

“No. As far as I know, Baker doesn’t need any extra hands.”

Jessy wasn’t fooled by his casual tone. But if he wasn’t going to tell her what really had been said between him and the stranger, she had no way to drag it out of him.

“Okay. Whatever you say, Laredo.”

His withdrawn expression made her uneasy, that and his air of preoccupation, a kind of odd thoughtfulness. There was one possible cause for both.

“Is something wrong?” She watched him closely.

He put down the menu and looked at her. “No. Not at all. I was just remembering—”

“What?”