23. Trapped in the Labyrinth of Hailey Bailey

"Stop beating yourself up, man. There wasn't much you could do." Though Wyatt couldn't see him as he spoke, Noah nodded along anyway, even though he didn't believe what his cousin said. He could have done something. Should have done something. Exactly what that something was, though, eluded him.

After Mousegate two days ago, he had swallowed his pride, called his cousin, and dropped the bomb that Wyatt probably wasn't getting his money back anytime soon—if ever.

"I'll do everything I can to get you repaid."

"I know you will. And if you don't, I know where you live, fucker." Though Wyatt injected levity into the quip, Noah detected an undercurrent of frustration in his cousin's tone that was aimed his way—and he deserved all of it. Wyatt got paid big bucks, but his career had a short shelf life, and he had a family to think about now. Any way you sliced it, Noah owed him a big chunk of change and had no idea how he was going to come up with it.

"Have you told your mom yet?" Wyatt continued.

Noah felt the strike to his chest as if a spearfisherman had hit the mark. Jesus, he dreaded letting her down; he'd rather lose an eyeball. "No, you're my practice run. How am I doing?"

"Fucking awful, but knowing your mom, she'll probably pat you on the head and give you a plate of cookies."

Wyatt wasn't far off. Noah's mother was the epitome of a mom, and Wyatt—who'd been raised by the cold-blooded reptilian version of Noah's mother—had eaten up her attention at every opportunity when they were growing up.

"Here's the thing, though. Not only do I hate the thought of telling her, but she's going to have to admit to my dad that she loaned me the money. It puts her in a really tough spot, and it'll just be one more check mark in his column of reasons he's disappointed in me."

"I wish I had a magic wand, bro."

"So do I."

A baby wailed in the background. "Gotta go. Serena's trying to catch a nap, and I'm on duty."

They hung up, and Noah sank farther into his couch. Chance ambled over, slid his chin on Noah's knee, and gave him sympathy eyes. Noah rubbed his silky ears. "You here for moral support? I could sure use it." How anyone could have abused a sweetheart like this dog was beyond him. Merely imagining the abuse the dog had sustained made his blood simmer.

"Okay. You made your point. Your ordeal was ten times worse than mine, and I'm being a wuss."

He filled his lungs with air and tapped his mother's number.

"Noah! Where are you calling from, sweetheart?"

"Here at the bar, Mom. Where are you guys?"

"We're poolside in St. Thomas. This Westin place is pretty nice. They keep bringing me colorful cocktails," she giggled, pulling a smile from him.

He let her talk on about the beautiful water and the adventures they'd been on, letting himself be lulled into a world where he didn't have a care—like when he'd been twenty, having the time of his life with a seemingly bottomless bucket of money at his disposal.

"Sounds nice," he said when she came up for air.

"Ooh, you don't sound so happy, honey. What's going on?"

"Is Dad there?"

"No, he went to sign us up for a sunset sailing cruise."

Noah launched into the abbreviated version of what happened, ending with, "The bar's closed, Mom."

A few silent beats passed, and his heart inched its way into his throat.

"Not forever, sweetheart," she finally said. "What have you done to get it reinspected and passed?"

He ran through his plan of action.

"Sounds like you're doing everything you can, Noah. Now you just have to sit tight and be patient."

"It's about more than staying chill, Mom. I'm not sure I can keep it afloat when it does reopen." His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "I was already hanging by a shoestring, and now my reputation in this town is shot."

"I have faith in you, Noah. You'll figure it out."

His father's voice rumbled in the background. "What's he done this time?"

Shit!

"Mom, I don't want to get you in trouble with Dad."

"I know that. Don't you worry about that, now."

Why did hearing her say so make him feel worse?

"I wish I was there to bake you some cookies, Noah."

His eyes suddenly burned, and he let out a shaky laugh. God, Wyatt had pegged her so well. "I know you do. I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, son. Chin up."

He took a few angry swipes at his eyes after they ended the call. His phone chimed, and he picked it up and groaned. Sandy again. She'd been texting him nonstop, and when he'd finally caved and replied, he'd blamed his ghosting her on his challenges with supplies and waitstaff—no need to share the really bad news with her—pleading no bandwidth beyond getting the tavern fully stocked and staffed again. He'd hoped she would lay off, but instead she was coming on stronger than ever with a sympathy play, which was the last thing he needed or wanted.

He tossed the phone into the cushions only to have it ding again.

"Fuck, girl, don't you know when to let it go?"

Then it rang. Only the ring was a special one he'd used in the past for Ursula and forgotten about, so he plucked up the device and confirmed she was the caller. "What is going on with the universe?" he muttered as he swiped to answer.

Before he could utter a, "Hey," he got blasted by bitchy Ursula. "That was a cute trick, you asshole."

"Excuse me?"

"Your waitress, or should I say girlfriend, and her sneak attack. You've really sunk to a new low with that white trash."

He sat up. "I don't have a fucking clue what you're talking about."

"That girl with the stupid rhyming names, or should I say inspector, waltzed in here yesterday to check our kitchen and ended up wrangling her way into my boss's office. Why didn't you warn me who she was?"

Noah's eyebrows crashed together. I thought she quit. She probably lied about that too. "Hold up. Why were you dealing with her? You don't work in the kitchen. And she's not white trash." Why the hell was he defending Hailey?

"I wasn't in the kitchen, genius, but my boss came storming in here after talking to her, wondering why I hadn't set up a meeting with you yet. That setup was a shitty thing to do, Noah."

"So was using your position to keep me from meeting with him, Ursula," he snapped. But his confusion didn't dissipate. What the hell had Hailey been doing there?

Ursula came back at him in her pouty voice. "Well, I'm calling because I'm supposed to set up a time with you to discuss your stupid train idea, among other things. When can you meet?"

He nearly laughed out loud. "My schedule is wideopen." Apparently, news of the Miners Tavern's demise hadn't reached the high peaks of Silver Summit yet.

Once they scheduled a time, he couldn't resist. "Did your kitchen pass inspection?"

"With flying colors, apparently, though that pushy little bitch had some ‘suggestions' she could only deliver to a person in ‘high authority.' That's how she ended up talking to my boss. I don't know what all she said, but he was hopping mad when he barged into my office."

As he should have been. Giddiness bubbled in Noah's veins. Maybe there was justice in the world after all.

An hour later, he strolled into Mountain Coffee with three goals: one, he had been humbled enough to know that he needed Amy's advice about reopening after the bad publicity from the shutdown. To his knowledge, she'd never experienced the same humiliation, but she'd been at this longer and was a savvy businesswoman he respected. His second goal was to get himself a much-deserved cup of excellent coffee with high-octane caffeine to counteract his recent sleepless nights. His third and final mission was to escape Dixie's well-intentioned but stifling mother-hen act. Plus, Chance needed a walk and to get used to the town, so Noah brought him along, leaving him on Amy's dog-friendly outdoor patio, where he could bask in mountain sunshine.

As he was leashing him, his mutt peered through the glass front door and went into serious wiggle-butt mode, his tail whirling like a propeller.

"What do you see, dude? No one's here, not even a squirrel."

The reason for Chance's excitement became crystal clear when Noah walked inside the coffee shop. Behind the counter stood one honey-blond ponytailed traitor in a flannel shirt open to her bustline. It revealed a crisp white tank beneath and fit a little too well, scrambling his pledge to stay pissed at her for all eternity. Snug blue jeans and a black apron tied around her trim waist made her a prime candidate for a fully clothed barista-of-the-month centerfold.

Hailey didn't see him at first because she was busy deflecting Deputy Shane O'Brien's hyper-focused attention. Deputy Shane had obviously not made a vow to hate on Hailey, and if Noah read his expression correctly, the guy was picturing her as a different sort of centerfold at this very moment.

So Noah did what came naturally and cleared his throat … at a deafening decibel level.

Shane spun in surprise, but Noah barely registered the movement because his focus was directed entirely at the bane of his existence. Her wide eyes were the color of glacial ice today, so strikingly pale blue that he sucked in a quiet breath.

You hate this woman. Except she somehow did what you couldn't do and arranged an appointment with not one, but four of Silver Summit's principals. But that was a guilt play, not because she's a decent human being. Or she's setting you up again. Yeah, that's gotta be it. You hate this woman.

"Morning, barkeep," she breezed, as if he wasn't firing eye-daggers at her. "If you're looking for Amy, she stepped out for a bit. In the meantime, can I get you something?"

"What are you doing back there?" he sputtered.

She held out a hand presenter-style, which was when he noticed her wrist splint. His eyes drifted to her split lip and an uncharacteristic smudge on her cheek. "Well, Amy needed help and I needed a job, so we decided to help each other out." She gave him a warm smile, and either she was a top-notch actress or it was genuine, damn her.

"Hailey lost her job," Shane huffed, his voice filled with indignation.

She slanted the deputy a look. "I quit, Shane. My choice."

And a sore point, apparently.

Meeting Shane in the eye, Noah jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. "I saw someone shoplifting at the soap shop," he lied. The store wasn't even open for the season yet, but it would take Shane a few minutes to remember that detail and figure out Noah's ruse.

The deputy twirled his hat and plopped it on his head. "On it. Thanks, Noah."

Yeah, I wouldn't be thanking me, dude.

Noah took a few casual steps toward the counter while Hailey's gaze tracked Shane out the door.

"Aw, look at that," she gushed. "Red hot on a dangerous criminal's trail, and he still takes time to give Chance an ear rub."

"Which is why he never catches anyone," Noah grumped.

Hailey narrowed her eyes on him. "I assume you are here to order something?"

"I'll have your strongest brew at double strength. Haven't gotten much sleep lately."

"I don't expect you have." Her expression was pure empathy, which both confused him and added to his irritation. Then she had the gall to mutter under her breath, "Neither have I," as if her life had been turned to shit like his had.

Before he could craft a witty retort, she ducked behind some equipment and went to work on his drink. He kept an eye on her after it occurred to him she might slip something nasty in it—it also occurred to him he might deserve it if she did.

"I hope you don't mind," she went on lightly, not looking at him. "I'm still on a learning curve here, so I'm a little slow. In the meantime, why don't you take a look at the pastry case? Fresh this morning, and the chocolate croissants are to die for. You could always come back tomorrow and get them at half price—if there are any left—but they won't taste nearly as good."

Before he knew what hit him, he'd bought an expensive coffee and two pastries. Christ, she could sell an igloo to a polar bear.

He opened his mouth to say what, he didn't know, and she lifted her chin toward the front. "Chance looks anxious or cold. You might want to hurry along."

"Glad to see you landed on your feet," he grumbled.

"Nice that you think so. I actually landed on my ass, but I'm working on picking myself up. Thanks for asking."

Again, he opened his mouth without a clue what might come out, but another customer came through the door, and her attention shifted completely to that person. She barely gave Noah a wave when he uttered, "Later," on his way out. If he was the injured party here, how come he felt like a prize dick?

"Oh yeah," he told Chance as he unwound his leash. "I got her good. You would have cheered." Not. Why was it his brain and tongue had a habit of disconnecting whenever he was around her? Truth was it didn't matter whether he was lusting after her or supremely pissed at her. He couldn't remember another woman tangling him up so thoroughly—not even Ursula.

These thoughts careened around the banked corners of his mind, and he didn't notice Bruno Keating until he practically tripped over the guy heading his way on the sidewalk.

Chance parked his butt between Noah and his rival. A low warning growl rolled from him.

Keating spared him a disdainful glance and sprouted a nasty smirk. "Preoccupied these days, Hunnicutt? Must suck to be you, on the verge of losing everything."

"I'm not on the verge of losing anything, Keating." Though the lie slipped off Noah's tongue with ease, it caused acid to bubble in his belly.

"You're either out of touch with reality or you're clueless. Either way, you're fucked, but I've got a way for you to get out from under without having to go through the humiliation of bankruptcy."

Noah narrowed his eyes, and Chance rumbled another growl. "And how do you plan to do that, Keating?"

"I'll give you thirty cents on the dollar for the building and the equipment."

Noah bellowed with laughter. The attorney studied him with a look that was part quizzical and part disgust while Noah got his hysterics under control. "One of us is definitely out of touch with reality, and it sure as hell isn't me. Your offer is nothing but a joke, but I needed the laugh, so thanks for that anyway."

"I wouldn't dismiss it so quickly, Hunnicutt. Next time I extend an offer—if I extend one—it'll be twenty-five cents."

"You can go fuck yourself, Keating." Noah tugged on Chance's leash, and the dog fell in beside him with one last snarl thrown in Keating's direction.

Behind him, Keating snickered. "You are fucking yourself, Hunnicutt."

Good thing Noah had a hockey game later today. He was going to punish the hell out of that vulcanized rubber disk, and though it was a no-checking league, he had a powerful feeling some bodies would get slammed.

"Think of it this way, bro," Charlie pointed out as he pulled up to the outdoor rink, "now you have time to be a regular on the team again. And there are more silver linings. You can go skiing again, fishing … Hell, you can help me for a change."

Riding shotgun beside him, Noah groused, "Stop trying to cheer me up." He hadn't told anyone, including Charlie, about Keating's proposal to stick it to him.

Charlie threw his truck into park and cut the engine. "Whoa, who's Shane got his hands full of?"

Noah peered out the windshield at the deputy wrestling with a feminine form on the ice. Not wrestling. He seemed to be helping her stay upright on her skates. Both were laughing, as was the small audience surrounding them.

Noah gaped. Could this day get any worse? "What the hell? Is that—"

"Sure looks like it. That dawg!" With a headshake and a grin, Charlie opened his door "This oughta be interesting." He was outside, hauling his gear from the truck bed before Noah could say, "Wait!"

Noah grabbed his own bag and headed toward Neve, who sat on the bottom bleachers, strapping on her skates. He pointed toward the couple.

"What's she doing here?" And why is Hailey Bailey everywhere I go?

"Learning how to skate so she can be on our team," Neve chuckled.

"She can't," he protested. "She doesn't live here."

Neve wagged her head back and forth. "If I can show her the coolest game on the planet, she might be convinced to relocate. Charlie's working on her too. He says the Freemans are willing to rent her the Moose for real cheap while he keeps working on it. Guess they've run into a few more problems that extended the remod."

Noah's mouth dropped all the way open. "He didn't say anything to me, and we just rode over here together!"

"Probably didn't want to bother you with it. You've had a lot on your mind." She gave her laces a final tug, tied them off, and peered up at him. "Where's your pup?"

"Back in the apartment, sleeping off outdoor time."

"It's been almost a week since he was rescued. Why don't you bring him in for a quick check after the game? I'll make sure his recovery's on the right track."

"That'd be great." His mind wandered back to Hailey living in Fall River. He'd have to run into her practically every day, and that would suck. Besides, it made no sense. She wasn't a small-town kind of girl.

Why would Hailey live here when she already has a place in Montrose?

"You'll have to ask her, but she said something about not wanting to go back there because it's depressing," Neve answered his thought—which he'd apparently uttered out loud. "Plus, she lives above some kind of eatery, and they're not particularly fond of her there."

"Ha! No kidding." He snorted, feeling a little vindicated.

"Also, I expect she's looking to cut costs—like rent—now that she's unemployed." Neve popped upright and jammed on her gloves.

That fact bothered him more than it should have. Pulling on his own skates, Noah went for a light touch. "If she's playing on your team today, we're definitely beating your asses. Big time."

"She's not. She hasn't skated before, though she seems like a natural. Right now she's getting used to the feel." Neve glanced toward the pair on the ice and grinned broadly. "And I'm not only talking about Shane copping a feel."

Noah's head whipped toward them. "What?"

"He seems to be enjoying holding her up way too much. And judging by the eager beavers on your team ready to teach her everything they know about hockey, it won't be long before she's killing it for the Margaritas." She grabbed her stick and whacked his shin before gliding onto the ice.

His annoyance climbed. Why did everyone but Noah seem to be involved in Hailey's life?

"Oh, I don't know," his stupid inner voice said. "Maybe because they're not all walking around with their heads up their asses."

"Yeah, but she didn't screw them over," he answered it.

Fuck my life.