Jackrabbit Junction Jitters (7 page)

“Mom?” Kate popped her head out of the bathroom. “What are
you doing here?”

“Making sure you two stay out of trouble.” Deborah sniffed. “And
it’s obviously a good thing too, judging by the alcohol on your breath, Kathryn.”

A growling sound came from Claire. “Here we go.”

“And you.” Scowling, Deborah pointed at Claire. “What kind
of a girl brings a man home to her grandfather’s bed?”

Sighing, Mac leaned his head back against the wall. Deborah
didn’t need to worry about Claire’s virtue tonight. After seeing her pinched
face, every single flame of desire was now doused, extinguished, stomped out.

“It’s Mac, Mom. I live with him, remember?”

“Maybe so, but this is not the time or place for fooling
around. It’s a good thing I decided to stay here with you two.”

“You decided to stay here?” Kate stepped into the hall, an
edge of panic in her voice. “What does that mean?”

“It means I’m sleeping in your grandfather’s bed. I’d rather
sleep in this smelly old beast than at her house.”

“Then where are we sleeping?” Claire shot Mac a troubled
frown.

“Mac is sleeping in his aunt’s guest room. You’re on the
couch with the dog.”

Henry barked from the couch cushions.

“No, she’s not.” Kate crossed her arms. “That’s my bed.”

“Then she can sleep with me in the bedroom.”

Claire shook her head. “I’ll sleep wherever Mac does.”

“No, you won’t. That’s irresponsible.”

Mac opened his mouth to object, but Claire beat him to the
punch. “Irresponsible?” Her tone insinuated Deborah had lost a few marbles out of
one ear. He was figuring more like a bagful.

“Yes. What kind of an impression does that make on Kate?”

Claire laughed, short and sharp. “Kate sleeps with guys all
the time.”

Mac chuckled under his breath.

“Claire!” Kate punched her sister’s arm.

“Claire Alice.” Deborah cinched her robe even tighter. Mac
wondered how much more stress the belt could take. “Do not talk about your
sister like that in front of strangers.”

“Mac isn’t a stranger.”

“I’m not talking about MacDonald.” Deborah glared past Mac. “I’m
talking about those two.”

Mac followed her gaze. Manny and Chester stood inside the R.V.,
watching the fireworks display with beers in their hands and wide-toothed grins
on their faces.

Damn. He’d forgotten to lock the door.

* * *

Friday, August 13th

Claire woke up feeling as if a mule train had tromped on her
head. She swung her legs over the edge of the foam pad covering the R.V.’s
dining table and rubbed the grit from her eyes. Her tongue tasted like sour
milk and her teeth felt furry. Henry seemed to be rubbing off on her.

Across the room, Kate let out a soft sigh. Henry snored
lightly. All cuddled up on the green cushions, they were a picture of cuteness.
Claire whipped her pillow at them.

Henry yipped, bounding from behind the pillow with teeth
bared. Kate moaned and rolled deeper into the crack between the back and butt
cushions.

Claire slipped into the jean shorts and Speedy Gonzales T-shirt
she’d worn yesterday. The Shaft’s smoky cologne still clung to them. Her clean
clothes were in the bedroom with her mom, and nothing short of a swarm of
killer bees would spur her to cross that threshold this morning.

Her ears still rang from all the yelling last night. She
thought of Mac, sleepy and naked, all of that lovely male skin entangled in the
pale yellow sheets on Ruby’s spare bed, and rattled out a string of curses that
would have made Blackbeard proud.

“Good morning to you, too, sunshine.” Kate stared up at
Claire with one eye open and hair plastered flat on the left side of her head.

Claire grabbed her pack of cigarettes from the counter.

“Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here.” She slid into her flip-flops and
stepped out into the retina-frying sunlight.

“Buenos dias, bonita.” Manny sat in his usual lawn chair.

Nodding at him, Claire dropped into the chair next to him
and rubbed her eyes. The sun-steamed breeze made her throbbing head feel like
she could dispense cotton balls from her ears and nose.

She dumped her last cigarette on the table and swore when
she saw it—smashed flat and broken in half. Her fairy godmother must have called
in sick today. Maybe it was time to crawl back up on the smoke-free wagon. She
eyed the chewed cigar butt in the ashtray. Or maybe not. Desperate times and
all that shit, she thought, reaching for it.

“Please, querida.” Manny caught her hand and placed it palm
down on the table. “That was Chester’s. You’d be better off licking the bottom
of my shoe.”

Closing her eyes, Claire took a deep breath and wondered if
she could get away with drugging her mom and shipping her home in a FedEx box.
Three-day service would do fine. No bubble wrap necessary.

“How was the table?” Manny asked.

“Hard.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t sneak up to the house in the
middle of the night. I would have.”

She squeezed the bridge of her nose. “I tried. She caught
me. I swear she’s half hound dog.”

“You going to sleep on that table for the next few weeks?”

“I don’t know.” Claire would be damned if she was sleeping
on that table again tonight. “Do you know where a girl might be able to buy
some hemlock around here?”

Manny chuckled.

“Where’s Chester?” She was surprised not to see the old
bowlegged boy around this morning.

“I expect he’s still in bed.”

“It’s almost nine.” Which meant Claire needed to head to
Ruby’s pronto. She’d agreed to watch the store this morning while Ruby took
Jess to Yuccaville to shop for school clothes.

“He was out late last night, conducting auditions for Harley’s
bachelor party.”

The door to Gramps’s R.V. slammed open. Still sleep rumpled,
Kate stumbled out, recoiling visibly from the sun. She plopped down in the chair
next to Claire.

“Well, if it isn’t Katie Morgan, porn star extraordinaire.”
Manny’s grin mimicked the Cheshire Cat’s. He never missed a chance to give Kate
trouble about sharing a porn star’s name.

Kate stuck her tongue out at him, then turned to Claire. “Mom’s
up. I heard her humming ‘The Sound of Music’ in the bathroom.”

“That’s my cue.” Claire stood. “I’m off to work.” And off to
see what was behind that little door in Joe’s office.

As she plodded along under the charring sun, her thoughts
returned to Mac. Before he’d shown up at the bar last night, she’d been
fostering the idea of throwing some water on the fire that had burned between
them since they’d met in April. But then he’d appeared, wooed her with his sexy
voice and heated touches, and kissed away all thoughts of rebellion.

But now, after a night of tossing and turning, her fears
trickled back one drop at a time.

What if he grew tired of her job-hopping?

What if the flame blazing between them flickered and died?

What if, what if, what if? It was hard to think with the
damned Energizer Bunny beating that drum in her head.

She took the porch steps two at a time. Maybe her mother was
right about not sleeping with Mac. His proximity short-circuited Claire’s brain
and made her heartbeat erratic. Maybe she should avoid muddling her thoughts
even more with sex, at least until she figured out if she was going to stay or run.

As she walked into the store, her steps faltered. Mac stood
behind the counter next to Jess. His sandy-brown hair was still damp, curling
just above his collar. His faded green T-shirt hugged broad shoulders. A
combination of a rugged outdoorsman and a brainy science major, Mac the
geotechnician could give Indiana Jones a run for his money.

He looked up from the Volkswagen Beetle magazine ad spread
out on the counter in front of him, his gaze raking up and down her before
locking onto her face. The blatant lust smoldering there made her mouth
suddenly seem too dry, her tongue wooly.

“Morning, Slugger. How was your night?”

“Lonely,” she admitted.

“Mine, too.”

“Why do you call Claire Slugger?” Jess asked.

“Because she throws a wicked right hook.” Mac rounded the
counter and dropped a kiss on Claire’s lips. He smelled fresh—of soap, sage,
and something entirely too male that had Claire’s pheromones tripping breakers
left and right.

She shoved her hands in her back pockets to keep from
touching him and her right hand brushed over the attorney’s letter she’d found
yesterday in Ruby’s office. She pulled it out and unfolded it.

Mac caught her free hand and reeled her in. “What are you up
to this morning?”

“I’m watching the store.”

He ran a finger down the inside of her arm, his hazel eyes
burning holes in all of her reasons for staying out of his bed. “We could close
the place for a half hour.”

Claire grinned. “MacDonald Garner, what are you suggesting?”

He lifted her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist,
kick-starting her libido with just a flick of his tongue on her skin. “Just a
massage to work out the kinks you probably have from sleeping on that table
last night.”

“Gawd!” Jess snorted, obviously grossed out at Mac’s public
display of affection. “You guys need to get a room. Let me know when you’re
done snogging.” She scuffed out of the room.

That left the two of them alone under the buzzing florescent
lights. On Ruby’s old radio, Patsy Cline sang about falling to pieces. Claire
could empathize with the woman.

“Alone, finally.” Mac kissed his way up her arm to her
shoulder.

Claire shivered, in spite of the sweat trickling down her
spine. The throbbing in her head waned. She forced her attention on the piece
of paper in her hand.

“Claire.” Mac breathed in her ear. “Let’s go—”

“Oh, shit.” Claire’s stomach clenched as her eyes and brain
collaborated to make sense of the words on the page.

Mac released her arm. “What?”

“This.” She handed the letter to Mac and watched his eyes
travel down the letter. His jaw clenched as he read.

“Son of a—” He crumpled the letter. “Ruby!” He took two
strides toward the curtain, stopping when his aunt cruised through it.

“What, darlin’?” Ruby dropped her purse on the counter; the
keys to her old pickup were in her hand. “Jessica, come on!” she yelled over
her shoulder. “We gotta go.”

Mac handed the crinkled letter to her. “What’s this?”

“What’s what?” Ruby smoothed the piece of paper, her gaze
moving down the page. Her cheeks blushed as she read. When she looked back at
Mac, lines etched her forehead. “Where’d you find this?”

He glanced at Claire. Ruby’s eyes followed.

Claire felt her own cheeks redden. “I’m sorry, Ruby. I didn’t
mean to snoop. I found it yesterday when I was in the office trying to find a
reason for the break-in.”

“It’s okay, hon’,” Ruby told Claire and then handed the
letter back to Mac. “You know what it is.”

“Yeah. Somebody wants the Lucky Monk.”

Claire blinked. “The lucky what?”

“The Lucky Monk,” Ruby said. “It’s one of Joe’s old mines.”

“Shit.” Mac tossed the letter on the counter.

“Now Mac, this is no concern of yours. I can handle it.”

He raked his hand through his hair. “Does Harley know?”

“No, and he doesn’t need to find out. Deborah already thinks
I want him for his money. Him helpin’ me out of this mess will just cement that
idea in her head.”

Last spring, Gramps had nearly bought Ruby’s mines in order
to give her the cash to dig herself out of near-bankruptcy. In the end, though,
they’d agreed he’d make her a loan, allowing Ruby to keep the mines and her
dignity.

Jess pushed through the curtain. “Mom, have you—” She
paused. Her eyes narrowed as she studied Ruby, then Mac. “What?”

“Nothin’, sweetheart.” Ruby’s smile looked brittle. She
grabbed her purse from the counter. “You ready to go?”

“No, I can’t find my library books.”

“We’ll return them another day.” Taking Jess by the arm,
Ruby propelled her toward the door.

“Fine, but they’re due tomorrow.” Jess slammed outside. The
bells over the door jingled in her wake.

Ruby turned back to Mac. “Don’t worry about this. I have it
under control.”

Mac dug his keys from his pocket. “Sure you do.”

“What are you doin’?” Ruby asked as he walked over and opened
the door for her.

“Driving you to Yuccaville. I want you to explain to me how
you have this ‘under control.’”

“Now, Mac—”

“Let’s go. Besides, I want to hear all about this break-in
that has Claire digging for bones again.” Shooting a wink back at Claire, he said,
“Stay out of trouble, Slugger.”

Claire watched the three of them rumble off in Mac’s truck.
In just four short months, they’d become more of a family to her than her own
flesh and blood. Leaving them would cut deep, and playing with knives always
made her armpits clammy. 

Christ, she needed a smoke. She stared at the packs of
cigarettes lining the display shelf next to the cash register. Nobody would
know if she bought a pack and slipped out back for a few minutes …

Groaning, she grabbed Jess’s copy of the latest glam
magazine from under the counter and settled onto the stool. She’d picked a hell
of a year to try to quit smoking.

Three nicotine-free hours later, Claire looked up as Kate
breezed into the store, along with a gust of hairdryer-hot air. “What are you
reading?”

Claire lowered the copy of Ohio: Travel Smart—one of Jess’s
missing library books. “A book.”

“Jeez, Claire. If you’re going to run, don’t move to Ohio.”

“What do you have against Ohio?”

“Who’s moving to Ohio?” Gramps swished through the curtain,
wiping his hands on a dishtowel.

“Claire.” Kate pointed at the book.

“What?” Gramps snatched it from Claire’s grip, holding the
copy under his nose. “Why? Is Mac being transferred?”