If Only She'd Loved Him

Chapter 77

Saturday 6:55 pm

Jean smiled as Matt held the car door open for her. The Amber Hotel looked a lot like a dive bar, but a sign dangling off its hinges assured her there were vacancies.

"Watch out for that puddle," Matt called to her.

"Thanks," she replied, hopping over his feet, splashing him with mud.

Matt leaned back into the car. "Thanks again for the lift. You really helped us out back there."

"No trouble at all, son," the man replied. "Now, if you're sure you'll be okay, we'll be on our way."

"We'll be fine, sir, thank you again."

The old woman leaned across her husband. "You just be careful, young man," she warned him, her purse open on her lap. "It's still a rough night out there."

"That we know, ma'am, that we know."

Jean nodded her head in thanks, flashing them a brief smile. Though the rain had slowed to a drizzle, it still managed to find its way down her neck. Her smile turned to a scowl as she felt it slither past her back. Her scowl deepened as she realized she still had no bars.  Refusing to waste another minute, she headed straight for the Cold Beer sign lighting up the door.

Matt saw steps to his right, as he followed Jean through an archway to the bar. Seating herself at the counter, Jean looked around and was looked at in turn. There were no other women here, and only a few other men. The smoke was dense. It settled on her sweater like a fine mist.

One of the regulars sidled up to her stool. "Either I'm awful drunk or you're awful pretty," he leered at her. "How about a drink on me?"

Jean toyed with making his question factually accurate, but Matt had taken up position behind her back. Spying Matt, the other man frowned. "If you was with someone, why didn't you say so?" With a burp that could only be described as mellifluous, he returned to his table.

Matt laughed. "You turned down a catch like that? Wow, I must be special."

She laughed back. "Don't you know it, hon." Reaching over the edge of the counter, she plucked at the bartender's sleeve. "I need to use your phone."

"Local call?" he asked, wiping his hands on his hips.

"I want the police."

The bartender shrugged as he handed the phone over. "You in trouble?" he asked, raising his eyebrows over towards Matt, who put his hands protectively on Jean's shoulders.

"A friend of ours is," Matt replied, ignoring his implication.

"What is it with you kids tonight? First two of you come in, one so drunk he can't stand up straight. Then you two appear wanting the police. I don't get it. Was there a full moon during that storm or what?"

He watched Jean as she started to dial 911. "Hey girl, that don't work up here. We don't have 911 yet, you'll have to try the sheriff."

Jean slammed the phone down. "What's his number?" she demanded.

"674-3660," he rattled off.

Jean dialed the first number, pressing numbers till she got a busy signal. Slamming the receiver down on the counter brought her only temporary satisfaction. Left with no choice, she picked up the phone and tried again. The dull buzz ate at her nerves for a second time. She tried again, same result.

"It's busy," she complained to Matt.

The bartender shrugged. "I'm not surprised. Results of that storm are going to be keeping folks up for the night I imagine. We're lucky we didn't lose power. Hope your friend will be all right," he added sympathetically.

"She's been all right this long. She'll be fine for a while longer," Matt muttered more to reassure Jean than to answer the bartender. "You wouldn't happen to know a guy named Miller would you?" he asked him. "He's supposed to have a cabin up around here."

The man shook his head. "Sorry, can't help you. So many folks own hunting cabins, I couldn't keep track of them if I lived to be a hundred. Hey, you and your girl want a drink. Need to see some ID, of course."

"No," Jean responded, clenching her jaw. "We don't. What about a tow truck, any chance we could get one of those?"

"Bout as much chance as getting the sheriff, I suppose," the bartender remarked, unperturbed. "You can keep trying that thing all night, miss, but I doubt it'll do you much good till morning."

Jean flung the phone down, tossing her hair in a whip of curls. "Look, my friend's in trouble. Can't anyone help us?"

Matt put his hand on Jean's shoulder. "Jean, calm down and we'll try again in a minute."

"I don't want to try in a minute!" she snapped at him. "I'm sick of waiting around. I want to do something now!"

Hopping off the stool, she strode to the front door. Matt followed her. "I know this is driving you crazy," he said softly, "but right, now we're stuck. C'mon," he pulled on her arm, "let's go sit back down."

Jean opened her mouth, about to tell Matt No!, in her special tactful way, but then she stopped, and just stared above his shoulder at the stairs.

"Sean?" she whispered.

"Huh?" Matt turned around.

Sean fell face forwards. Tumbling head over heels down the steps, he landed in a dead heap at the bottom.