Shrugging, I shoved a forkful of scrambled eggs into my mouth. I wasn’t like my brothers or my friends. Some of them actually cared what people thought while I’d given up on giving a shit a long time ago.
Holt shook his head as he scrolled on his phone. “Everyone’s going to be pissed.”
I swallowed and looked over at Nellie. If anyone had an idea of who’d written such a piece of trash, it would be her. She was always at the center of everything that went on around town.
“Who do you think is behind this?” I asked.
She gave me one of her sweet smiles—the one that said there was something she wasn’t going to tell me. “Don’t you think there’s another question you might want to ask that’s even more important?”
“No.” I reached for my coffee. It was too early to play mind games with Nellie, though she never passed up an opportunity to teach “her boys” a lesson, especially if it involved emotions and feelings and shit.
She’d been the high school guidance counselor when I was in high school. It wasn’t until after she retired that she took over running the cafe from her own mom. Miss Maggie still made appearances every once in a while, and her huckleberry pie would always be the best in the county.
“What question is that?” Holt asked. Not only was he a single dad to my six-year-old nephew, but he was also the only one of us who went on to join the fire crew. If he wanted folks around town to trust him, he couldn’t have his reputation fucked over, especially by something as stupid as a post on social media.
Nellie shook her head, but her eyes still held their sparkle. “Instead of trying to figure out who wrote it, maybe you two should be more worried about what landed you on that list in the first place.”
“Well, that’s easy.” Holt reached for my coffee mug, but I batted his hand away. I needed all the caffeine I could get this morning. He scowled at me. “Thatcher made the list because the longest relationship he’s ever had lasted all of about three days.”
I wouldn’t curse in front of Nellie, but the glare I gave him should have been strong enough to make him think twice about continuing. Unfortunately, he took a great amount of personal pleasure in making me uncomfortable, so he kept talking.
“Remember that woman you went out with a couple of years ago from Granite Gulch?” The corner of Holt’s mouth curled up in a lopsided smile. “I’d say you ghosted her. Maybe she’s the one who put you on the list.”
Rolling my eyes, I picked up my fork again. “We went out once, and she asked if she could move in with me. That wasn’t ghosting, it was self-preservation.”
Nellie clucked her tongue, sounding like one of her prized chickens she was constantly doting on. The woman had always collected strays in one way or another, both animals and humans.
“Now, boys,”—she patted my shoulder—“maybe this list isn’t such a bad thing. It could give you the chance to work on parts of yourselves you might want to improve.”
I forced myself not to flinch. Nellie was touchy-feely, and I tolerated it because she’d been there for me and my brothers when no one else had. She was probably the closest thing to a grandmother I’d ever known, and even though she got under my skin, it was only because she cared.
“The only thing Holt wants to improve is his chance of getting through a week without stepping on a plastic T-Rex,” I mumbled.
“Hysterical,” Holt said. “You should try doing some stand up at The Knotty Pine this week.”
“Yeah, right. With this crap hanging over my head, you’ll be lucky if you see me in town again until it all dies down.” I shoveled the last bit of eggs into my mouth, eager to get on with my day.
Holt leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You’re still coming to Trail Supper tonight though, right?”
Before I could answer, Nellie clapped her hands together. “And you promised you’d help with the farmer’s market kick-off tomorrow.”
Groaning, I set the fork down on my empty plate. “I thought that was next week.”
Nellie shook her head. “Don’t try that with me. You promised you’d help me with the petting zoo for the kids. Meet me at my place at six so we can get everyone loaded.”
“Fine.” I drew in a deep breath through my nose. I’d planned on clearing a few of the fire trails this weekend. Instead, I’d be trying to corral Nellie’s motley crew of rescue animals all day tomorrow.
“Oh, and I almost forgot,” Nellie said. “I’ve got a huckleberry cobbler made up for you boys for dessert tonight. You can take it now and warm it up yourselves or stop by on your way to Trail Supper and I can have it ready for you.”
“You spoil us, Nellie.” My mouth watered with the promise of homemade cobbler. The woman might spend too much time meddling where she shouldn’t, but no one would ever go hungry with Nellie around.
She set her hand on my shoulder and held my gaze. Her blue eyes held nothing but love. “Someone needs to, Thatcher.”
“I can swing by and grab it after I drop Lane off at the babysitter’s.” Holt reached for my coffee mug again. This time, I let him drain it.
“I’ll have it ready at six.” Nellie pulled her hand back and reached for my mug. “You want some more coffee to take with you?”
“I’m good for now.” I pulled out my wallet to settle up before I headed over to grab my supplies.
