“I did not cheat, O’Donnell, and you know it. I was just the better card player of the two of us.”
“You hustled me, Smith, plain and simple. ‘Come on, Bran, if you beat me at cards, then you don’t have to join the band with me. Surely that big brain of yours can do that.’” Branna remembered the bet like it was yesterday; Annabelle had duped her, big time.
“Hey”—Belle lifted her hands in the air—“I didn’t have to disclose that my uncle played poker for a living. We didn’t set out rules or anything.”
“Ha, ha.” Branna poked out her tongue. “So, to answer your question, no, I have never again sung a note, unless it’s in the shower… alone,” she added. “That band thing traumatized me.”
“Shame.” Belle got to her feet. “You sure could sing.”
Branna rose too.
“So, we’ve got this friend thing going again, Bran, you got that?” Belle said, leaning on the doorframe. “No more bailing on me without a word, no more secrets. You remember the rules, right?”
“I got it.”
Belle hugged her hard. “I missed you.”
“Missed you too, and I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch.”
“That’s okay. I was fairly busy having sex and going to wild parties in Portland at nursing school to give you too much thought,” Belle added. “Now, remember, you don’t take that sling off until the doc tells you to, and nothing that strains your brain for a few days.”
“I got that message from Jake,” Branna said, thinking of his scowl.
“Oh, and before I go, I thought you should know they’re forming a high school reunion committee, so run if you see anyone coming toward you with a clipboard.”
“High school was an hour and half from here on a slow yellow bus. Why is anyone from Howling organizing it?”
“Two words, Macy Reynolds.”
“She’s still here? Wow, I was sure she would have gone on to win a Miss something contest and marry a movie star.”
“Howlers don’t stray far, Bran, as is evidenced by your return.” Belle flicked up a hand and then she was gone, leaving Branna smiling.
The smile was still on her face when she climbed the stairs to go to bed. Three years she’d lived here in Howling, and at the time, she’d thought them some of the worst and best of her life. She’d been angry after the death of her mother and hurting because her father had turned away from her in his grief, but here she’d found friends. Branna had believed she’d never be a real Howler, because she’d been born in Ireland, but maybe she was wrong. Belle had said Howlers don’t stray far from home, and she’d been talking about her, Branna O’Donnell.
Climbing into bed, she turned off the lamp and closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure how long she’d stay, or even if she would, but for now, this was the right place for her to be… right here under Georgie’s roof.
“I’m here, Georgie,” she whispered. “Let your soul rest easy, my friend.”
Chapter4
“I like this one better than last week’s mystery muffin, Buster. What’s in it?”
“The keyword there, Branna, is mystery.”
She was sitting in the corner of The Hoot at one of the tables he had set up to look out the big window to the mountains and redwoods beyond. It was early, and the day was crisp, but in here it was warm, especially with one of Buster’s coffees and a muffin in front of her. She’d been back two weeks now, and life was starting to settle into a routine.
“But you can’t keep it as a mystery muffin if it’s going to be a regular in your cabinets,” Branna protested.
“It won’t.”
“What? Why?” She looked down at the piece she had left. It had to be a regular, or she’d never get to taste it again.
Buster’s sigh could have felled a forest. “Branna, we’ve had this discussion four times, and you’ve only been back in town two weeks. The mystery muffins are a treat for those game enough to try them. They’re not a regular thing.”
“Give me the recipe then, so I can make it again.”
The loud scoffing sound coming from behind the counter made her frown.
