Rough Country (Tannen Boys 3)

“Not a thing to worry about with that one, girl. Or anyone else. That Tannen boy ain’t never followed no one around the way he does you.” He nods like that’s that and goes back to pulling beers.

A little while later, the door creaks open and a group of women I do know come in. Shayanne, Sophie, Katelyn, Rix, and Allyson all walk directly to the bar and me.

“Hey, Willow!” Shayanne yells. “Round of Girly Beers, please!”

“Sure thing. Where you gonna sit? I’ll have Olivia bring them over.”

Rix points to a stool. “We’re sitting right here with you. Brody’s orders, Bobby’s too.”

The other girls laugh like she said something ridiculous. I don’t know what it was until Katelyn manages to huff out around her giggles, “Brody’s orders? As if you take orders from anyone, much less Brody.”

Rix’s grin says Katelyn might be on to something. “Well, I take his ideas into consideration, at least.” She shrugs, and I get the feeling nobody tells Rix what to do. Ever.

I set the beers onto cocktail napkins in front of each woman. “What was the part about Bobby’s orders?”

Shayanne jumps in. “Oh, he told us to check in on you since he was gonna be gone. Pretty sure he wanted to make sure you didn’t make a run for it while he was distracted. You’re lucky he didn’t tie you up and just leave enough water and sandwiches on the nightstand to last till Monday.”

“That is oddly specific and concerning that you’ve considered kidnapping enough to have a meal plan for it.” I couldn’t explain it if I tried, but her outrageousness makes her more endearing somehow. She says crazy things, but they come out more amusing than terrifying.

She frowns, feigning sadness. “Lessons learned the hard way. I always forget to feed and water the hostages.”

Unc appears at my shoulder. “Sophie, where the hell is Doc tonight? You leave him high and dry at the clinic?”

Sophie bites back defensively, “You know I didn’t. When I left, he was petting a new kitten and watching Andy Griffin reruns.” Her voice softens. “We had a mama cat birth four today. They were feeding okay, but Doc said he’d probably sleep over to make sure they didn’t need to be bottle fed.”

“Aw hell, you know he’ll be there every night for a week then. Never seen a man like cats as much as he does.”

Rix snorts first, then Shayanne, then the rest of us catch what Unc just alluded to accidentally. Unc grins big when he realizes why we’re laughing. “You ladies, and I use the term loosely, need to straighten up.”

We try. We make a truly valiant effort for about two seconds before we all bust out again.

God, I needed that. Silly giggles about a stupid, accidental joke. I feel like my whole body is bathed in champagne, bubbly and warm.

Unc rolls his eyes, fighting his own laughter to appear sternly authoritarian. “Actually, I got another plan. Shayanne, you go get that table right there,” he orders her, pointing across the bar to a round booth that just opened up.

She doesn’t question it, zig zagging her way over to flash a thumbs-up.

He dips his head in recognition then sticks two fingers in his mouth. The whistle is loud and unexpected, quieting the bar in an instant as all eyes turn to him.

“Y’all know my niece, Willow. She’s been in here putting up with your shit for a while now, without so much as a fuss.”

What is he doing? I hate being the center of attention and this little speech of his has everyone in the room, and that’s a lot of people, looking from him to me. A few tip the necks of their bottles at me and several smile.

“More importantly, she puts up with my shit. So here’s what’s going to happen. I’m pulling beers and Willow’s got one batch of Girly Beer left for tonight. That’s all that’s on the drink menu. So if you want mixed drinks, go home and make ’em yourself because she’s taking the night off to hang out with her friends.”

Mouth agape, I blink. Finally finding words, I mouth at him, “What?”

Unc smiles wider. “Take the night off, girl. You deserve it. Hell, take Olivia with you. She deserves it even more than you. Poor thing’s been putting up with my grumpy ass since the dawn of time.”

“I ain’t that old, old man!” Olivia calls out, but I see her coming toward the bar and taking her apron off. “And neither are you.” Kinder and quieter, she asks, “You sure, Hank?”

“Hell yeah, I’m sure. I used to run this place by myself and I can damn sure do it for a couple of hours.” Louder, to the crowd, he says, “In case you didn’t notice, your waitress is off duty and I don’t do that shit. If you want something to eat or drink, then you’d best get up and come to the bar and order it yourself, capiche?”