Jackrabbit Junction Jitters (40 page)

Porter nodded as he led Manny toward the door. “You feel up
to a short hike?”

“Sure. Just don’t go too fast. We’ll be passing by Rebecca’s
R.V. on the way, and she may feel like playing Florence Nightingale if she sees
I’m injured.”

Claire chuckled under her breath. For the first time since
she’d raced into the men’s room and found Manny on the floor next to the toilet
with his pants soaked from the water spilling over the rim, the worry squeezing
Claire’s lungs loosened its hold.

Chester moved up beside Manny, offering his shoulder as
another crutch. When Manny waved him off, Chester’s eyes narrowed. “Quit being
such a hard ass, Carrera.”

“You just want to steal the show and play the superhero in
front of those two stacked
señoritas
parked next door.”

“Just use my shoulder, you rotten geezer.”

As Manny touched Chester’s shoulder, he wrinkled his nose. “You’re
all sweaty.”

“Yeah, well, you smell like piss,” Chester said as they
shuffled toward Jess and the open door.

“Maybe I can convince Rebecca to come along and sponge me
off.”

Chester’s laughter trailed after the three stooges as they
escaped into the blistering sunshine.

After sending Jess to the supply room for a mop and bucket,
Claire scanned the flooded floor. She gave up. The toilet had won. She waded
through the mess, slipped into the stall, and shut off the water supply at the
valve.

The only thing left to do was post an Out of Order sign on
the stall door and call in a professional. But she’d leave the latter task to
Ruby, who’d phoned last night and told Deborah she’d be home in two days, in
time for Jess’s sixteenth birthday. Claire couldn’t wait to hand back the
reins.

The clatter of the mop bucket on the concrete floor
announced Jess’s return. “I grabbed the bleach, too,” she said as Claire exited
the stall.

“Thanks.” Grabbing the mop, Claire set to work pushing the
excess water toward the floor drain in the center of the room. The reward of an
ice cold Corona with a hint of lime juice drove her onward while sweat poured
down her arms and dripped from the tip of her nose.

Jess’s chatter about all of the nail polish and lip gloss
she planned to buy with “her” money droned into a high-pitched hum while Claire
tried to figure out what had pushed Mac over the edge. There had to be more to
it than just Deborah knowing he’d uttered those three words.

She gritted her teeth. What had possessed her mother to
raise that subject with Mac anyway? It’s not like they were even on speaking
terms most days.

“… that gold you found?” Jess’s question cut through Claire’s
ruminating.

“What?” Claire stood up straight and stretched her back.

“I asked what you’re gonna to do with that gold you found.”

“Give it to your mom.”

Her stomach churned a bit at that thought since it would
probably involve showing Ruby where Jess found the gold and lying by omission
about Joe’s porn pictures.

“That’s good, I guess. Mom could sure use the money to keep
this place going.”

Now was as good a time as any to call Jess’s bluff. Claire
leaned on the mop handle. “What do you care if she keeps this place going or
not? You’re not going to be around anymore after tomorrow, right?”

“Tomorrow?” The word came out sounding like a croak, as if
Jess had swallowed a bullfrog.

“You said you plan on leaving before Ruby gets home.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.”

“Well, your mom will be back on Wednesday, so that doesn’t
leave you much time to get out of town.”

“Mom’s gonna be here for my birthday?” Jess’s eyes lit up.

“That’s the plan. Too bad you’ll be halfway to Ohio by then.
It’s going to be weird celebrating without you here.”

Staring down at her sparkly orange nails in silence for
several seconds, Jess’s forehead creased. “Maybe I’ll hang around a little
longer then.”

“Bad idea.” Claire fought to keep her tone solemn.

“Why?”

“School will be starting soon there, and you need to
establish a residence and register at the local high school.”

Jess’s frown furrowed even more. “What’s a residence?”

“It’s proof that you aren’t just drifting through town. A
permanent address or a driver’s license, for example.”

“Maybe I’ll skip school this year.”

“And spend day and night hiding from the truant officers?”
Claire wasn’t even sure there were such things as truant officers anymore, but
it didn’t hurt to throw some into the mix.

“What are truant officers?”

“Kind of like the police. They check up on kids who are
skipping too much school.” That’s what she’d heard, anyway. Claire crossed her
fingers behind her back.

Jess’s mouth dropped open. “Will they throw me in jail for
not going to school?”

With a shrug, Claire stared at the drain in the center of
the floor for several seconds, struggling to smother a grin before looking back
into Jess’s wide eyes.

“Ohio laws may be different, but I’ve known kids who ended
up in juvie court for lesser crimes.” If she’d been strapped to a lie detector,
the needle would have painted the graph paper black by now.

“What was jail like?”

“Imagine this bathroom with bars on the window and door.”

“Were you scared last night?”

“I was too mad at Kate to be scared.”

“Your mom really yelled at Kate after you guys got home.”
Jess shook her head. “She isn’t very nice sometimes.”

Claire guffawed. “My mom isn’t very nice a lot of times.”

“You should’ve heard what she said to Mac this morning.”

“Yeah, he mentioned something about that.”

“I thought he was going to punch her in the nose when she
told him that you’re unable to settle down and make something of your life.”

Claire had lost count how many times she’d heard her mom
preach that. She shoved more water down the drain.

“But then he got all still and quiet when she told him you
think he said he loves you only because he wants to control you.”

It took a few seconds for Jess’s pronoun-filled sentence to
sink into Claire’s broiled, tired brain.

“Say what, now?” She grasped the mop handle in a death grip.

“Did Mac really tell you that he loves you?”

Claire’s vision clouded, fury tunneling her vision. What
happened earlier down in Joe’s office made sense now.

“She’s gone too far this time.”

Throwing down the mop, Claire strode toward the door.
Deborah was going to be on a plane out of here by tomorrow morning, even if
Claire had to drag her by the hair all the way to Tucson.

“Hey, wait up.” Jess followed.

Claire barged out into the bright sunshine and rammed right
into Porter’s chest.

He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Whoa. Where’s the fire?”

Huffing, she yanked free of his grasp. “I’m about to light
it.”

* * *

Halfway up the hillside to the Lucky Monk mine, Mac paused
to drink some water from his canteen. Dripping with sweat, he shielded his eyes
from the noonday sun.

Shimmers of heat blurred the surrounding mountains, while a
heavy mantle of humidity suffocated the valley. The cumulus clouds building on
the horizon threatened.

Hell was on its way.

Distant booms echoed across the desert floor, each one
making Mac wince. It was only a matter of time until the ceiling in the dead man’s
tomb gave way again, and the Copper Snake’s blasting efforts would only speed
the process along.

Capping his canteen, he hefted his pack on his back, then
grabbed his duffel full of tools and trudged onward and upward. As he reached
the mine’s mouth, he remembered the map was still in his truck. With his shirt
plastered to his chest and heat stroke knocking, he decided to trust his spray
paint directions on the walls.

The Lucky Monk’s chilled, musty breath feathered across his
skin as he hiked down the main adit toward his mummified pal. Now that he’d
escaped the sun’s rays, he had time to think of things besides not keeling over
in the heat. Things like why in hell did Claire kiss Porter?

Mac paused long enough to dig a T-shirt from his pack and
shuck his sweat-soaked one.

Had it just been one kiss? Like the kind she’d give an old
friend? Or a new lover?

Flicking on his hat light, he tucked his flashlight in his
back pocket. Shadows fluttered at the edge of his vision, dancing, celebrating
his humiliation, doubling his chagrin. He marched deeper into the mine, his
thoughts growing more tangled and knotted with every step.

Deborah’s words echoed in his mind …
the only reason you
told her you love her is because you want to control her.

Had he driven Claire to Porter? Pushed her away by letting
those three words slip out before she was ready to hear them?

Damned woman! He kicked at a golf ball-sized pebble. It
bounced and clattered into the darkness in front of him.

Most of the women he’d dated in the past had fished for
those three words, baiting him with everything from lace teddies and fur-lined
handcuffs to pot roasts and homemade cherry pies. Then along came Claire, with
her purple toenail polish, crazy T-shirts, and watermelon-scented shampoo.

All it had taken was just one drunken kiss.

He rounded the last corner before the cave-in and noticed a
fresh layer of dust covering his footprints from yesterday. His steps slowed. Part
of the ceiling had crumbled further. He pulled his flashlight from his pocket
and shined the beam at the rock overhead. Fractures road-mapped the jagged,
concave surface.

What he needed was some rock netting.

Or a bigger set of balls.

Unfortunately, he had neither on him at the moment.

He dropped his duffel to the floor. The crowbar, hammer, chisels,
and small pick axes clanged against each other inside the leather casing.

He had two options: give up or dig.

The first meant never finding out what was behind those
boards, and he’d been hanging around Claire for too long for that choice to
settle easily in his gut.

The problem with the latter, though, was the possibility of
spending eternity with a dried up, eyeless miner. That was not Mac’s idea of
resting in peace.

Dust floated in front of his hat light as he debated.

Hell, he’d come too far to turn back now. Besides, he needed
to finish the job he’d set out to do for Ruby.

He unzipped his duffel and pulled out the crowbar. Slipping
off his pack, he rooted out Ruby’s Smith and Wesson, checked the safety, and
stuffed it in the back of his jeans.

This time, he’d be ready for any visitors.

After a glance over his shoulder to make sure he was still
alone, he dug in.

* * *

Claire slammed into the General Store with Jess on her heels
and Porter bringing up the rear. She scanned the room, huffing like she planned
to blow the house down.

“Where’s Mom?” she asked Kate, who sat behind the counter,
filing her nails.

“In the kitchen. Why?”

Jess’s pattering footfalls followed Claire as she marched
across the room. “Claire’s pissed at her,” she told Kate.

Claire found her mother sitting in one of the kitchen
chairs, her nose buried in a paperback novel. A half-empty glass of lemonade
sweated on the table in front of her.

“I hope you’re happy!”

Grabbing the book from her mother, she threw it across the
room. It hit the refrigerator, knocking off Ruby’s set of Lucille Ball magnets,
and fluttered onto the linoleum.

Her mouth agape, Deborah stared at Claire.

She leaned down into her mother’s face. “I want you out of
here today.”

In a blink, Deborah snapped out of her stupor. Her lips
compressed into a tight, glossy pink bow. “How dare you—”

“I’ve had enough of your meddling. Pack your bags!”

Her cheeks sporting two dark, rosy spots, Deborah pushed to
her feet. “I will do no such thing.”

“Fine! Then I’ll pack your shit for you and drag you to the
airport. One way or another, you’re leaving.”

“Claire?” Kate teetered on the threshold, as if she weren’t sure
whether to stay for the rest of Round One or hide until the dust settled. “What’s
going on?”

“Mac wants me to move out.”

“I heard, but what’s that got to do with Mom?”

Jess had the decency to blush when Claire speared her with a
pointed glare.

Grabbing Deborah by the arm, Claire forced her to face Kate.
“Tell Kate what you told Mac. Go on; show her your forked tongue.”

Deborah wrenched free. Her blue eyes sparked as she whirled
back to Claire. “Good! I’m glad Mac is finally coming to his senses. That man
is nothing but trouble for you.”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you use that language with me, young lady.”

“Oh, kiss my ass. You no longer get my respect.” Claire
threaded her fingers through her hair, tugging, barely containing the urge to
wrap them around her mother’s neck. “It’s a wonder Dad didn’t leave you years
ago.”

Deborah gasped, holding her hand over her chest.

Shit. She probably shouldn’t have said that aloud.

“Claire,” Kate started, stepping into the kitchen.

“Oh, zip it, Kate.”

Jess dropped into one of the kitchen chairs and propped her
chin on her hand, her eyes wide.

“How can you say such a horrible thing to me?” Her mother’s
watery eyes only fueled Claire’s anger.

“Horrible thing, huh? How about all of the horrible things
you’ve said to me? All of those snippy comments about my hairstyle and choice
of clothing? All of the times you’ve held Kate’s achievements over my head and
mocked my lack of a degree? Or how about your attempts to set me up with men
who would ‘straighten me out’ or ‘fix me,’ so that I’d meet your expectations
of success?”

“I’ve never said anything so cruel.”