“It’s still Groundhog Day,” I muttered.
“What?” Scarlett headed toward the safe to get money for the cash register.
“Nothing. I was talking to myself.”
Rosalie set the big mixing bowl on the worktable and began making biscuit dough just like she had the day before. “Why are you talking about Groundhog Day? That doesn’t come around for another month—and in my opinion, it’s a useless holiday. No matter if the groundhog sees his shadow or not, there’s still six more weeks of winter.”
Two and a half months until spring officially arrives. Will I be able to leave this place by then, or will I still be kicking tumbleweeds out of the way to get to the trailer?
Tomorrow and every day after that, I planned to ask for a different breakfast in the hope that it would help break this boring cycle. I was finishing the last of my coffee when the bell above the door jingled. “I’ll get it. Scarlett, you finish eating.”
“Thanks,” she said without looking up from her food.
“Well, good morning, beautiful,” said a big, burly man with a sprinkling of gray shining in his close-cut brown hair. “What is your name, and where have you been all my life?”
“My name is Carla, and I’ve been lots of places,” I answered with my best fake smile. “Have a seat anywhere you like.”
He chose the barstool closest to the register. “No need to bring me a menu. Just tell Rosalie that Buddy is here, and she’ll know what I want. Iced tea to drink, and if you’re not busy, you could sit with me and tell me all about yourself.”
The growl of an engine caught my attention. Saved by the bus. I nodded toward the window and hoped that Buddy didn’t come in every day. “Sorry, but I don’t have time. We’ll be swamped in a few minutes.”
I pushed through the doors into the kitchen. “Buddy is out there and said you’ll know what he wants. Scarlett, you are working at the bar for the breakfast rush. He wants iced tea to drink.”
“Spoken like a true boss who is running from a flirty man. Scarlett can handle him,” Rosalie said. “But you should steer clear of Buddy. He’s got a bad reputation.”
“Oh, I know his kind. I’m avoiding him so I don’t have to insult the man—or worse yet, do bodily harm to him,” I said.
“If you do have to do the latter, we can always get Ada Lou to help us drag him out to the base of the mountain and let the coyotes fight over his carcass.” Rosalie’s tone didn’t have a bit of humor in it.
“That would be one way to kill a whole pack of coyotes,” Scarlett whispered.
“What?” I asked.
“A man like him would poison them for sure,” she explained as she headed back out to the dining room.
A hard-looking woman with pink streaks in her bleached hair pushed open the door, scanned the whole room, and smiled at Buddy. She unzipped her black jacket to show off a red shirt that was at least three sizes too small and chose a barstool beside him.
“Well, hello, handsome,” she said in a husky smoker’s voice.
“Good mornin’, darlin’.” He grinned.
I glanced out the window, saw that the bus driver hadn’t even opened the door. There were no other vehicles in the parking lot, which meant someone had dropped her off in front of the café. Maybe she saw the sign and thought she could buy a bus ticket.
“She’s a truck bunny,” Scarlett whispered.
I must have frowned, because she leaned closer and whispered, “She catches rides with whoever is willing to give her one.”
“Oh!” I thought of what Rosalie had said about giving his cold dead body to the coyotes. Did she personally know someone like Miz Pink Hair? Or maybe she had known a man like Buddy in her past. Lord knew I had.
It seemed like we had more families than usual that morning, which gave me hope that things would move from the never-changing routine into something better. Maybe switching my breakfast that morning had helped things along. Baby steps—that was what Rosalie and Scarlett had called it.
But there are pros and cons to every situation in the world. The con that morning was that all the children were royal pains except for one little blond-haired girl sitting with her father. She stole my heart because she reminded me of myself at that age when I was traveling with Frank.
I handed them each a menu and asked, “What can I get y’all to drink?”
“Water for me,” she said, “and Daddy will have a cup of coffee with sugar and cream.”
“She knows me all too well,” he said.
