He washed his hands and brushed his teeth, thinking about the fight and wishing he’d had the chance to inflict a little more damage before Orton arrived with his gun. If anyone deserved a beating, it was Jon Small. He had a mean streak a mile wide, drunk or sober, and always managed to hide behind daddy’s name. He was a coward, and Booker hated nothing more than a coward….
The phone rang. Booker grabbed the sweatshirt he’d taken into the bathroom with him and pulled it over his head as he made his way downstairs. He hadn’t bothered to shave. He wasn’t planning to open the garage today.
As he neared the kitchen, Booker could hear Katie on the phone. “I think he’s going to be okay. Just a minute.” She came around the corner and nearly collided with him.
“Oh, there you are. Rebecca’s on the phone.”
Booker remembered the feel of Katie’s bulging tummy beneath his hands and purposefully turned his mind to other things. She wasn’t the one who’d finally brought him peace last night. He was just fascinated by the baby. She was the first pregnant woman he’d ever associated with on an upclose basis, and the changes he witnessed in her from day to day were pretty damned amazing.
“Hello?” he said, wondering why, if he was only interested in the baby, he had such a tough time taking his eyes off her nicely rounded behind when she moved away.
“What happened last night?” Rebecca asked.
“Haven’t you heard?” Booker covered a yawn. “It’s got to be all over town.”
“The rumor that you were arrested for attacking Councilman Small’s son is all over town. Josh heard it at the feed store and just called me. Not exactly the kind of news I like to hear about my good friend first thing in the morning. Especially when I don’t believe it.”
Booker glanced into the kitchen to see Travis seated at the table with Delbert and wondered how he now had three people and a dog living with him when, not too long ago, his Harley had been the closest thing he had to company.
“Jon needed to learn a lesson,” he told Rebecca.
“So you taught him one.”
“I did my best.” He stared down at his swollen knuckles and decided his efforts had been well spent in spite of everything. “Unfortunately he had his brothers with him, and a cousin.”
“You took them all on? Are you crazy?”
“It was what you might call a time-sensitive issue.”
“I like the story so far. What’s the rest?”
Booker heard Katie putting plates on the table and felt his stomach growl. She made the best biscuits and gravy. From the smell, he was willing to bet…
“Booker?” Rebecca said.
“I’m here,” he replied. “That’s pretty much it. Orton came, broke up the fight and hauled me off to jail.”
“Just you?”
“Yeah.”
“Not such a great ending. Why? Did you start the fight?”
“No. But this isn’t Mayberry, Beck. Orton hates me.”
She snorted in disgust. “Orton’s an idiot. What’s the charge?”
“Misdemeanor Assault.”
“Can you get jail time?”
“I guess it’s possible, but I’m betting on a fine.”
“How much of a fine?”
“Maybe five hundred bucks. There were four of ’em, so it’s tough to fine a guy too much for taking the worst of it.”
“I can’t believe the fight was four to one, and you’re the one who went to jail.”
“I know. Delbert was so upset, they almost arrested him because he wouldn’t let go of me.”
“Delbert was there?”
“He was there before I was. The Smalls were having a little fun at his expense. That’s what started the whole thing.”
“You’re kidding! They were picking on Delbert? Is he okay?”
“He’ll live. But I’d hate to see him if I’d gotten there any later.”
“Where was Bruiser?”
“Being the nice guy that he is, Delbert tied Bruiser up so he wouldn’t bite anybody.”
There was a long pause. “What happened is sickening, pathetic,” she said at last. “I’m going to tell my father.”
Rebecca’s father was the mayor of Dundee, but Booker knew better than to count on any help from him. He was the one who’d told the police chief to keep an eye on Booker when he’d moved to town two-and-a-half years ago. “I think you’re missing something here,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“Your father hates me, too, remember?”
“Actually, now that I’m married, I think he’s starting to mellow,” she said. “A couple of days ago, he told me to see if you can check out his Lincoln. It’s making a knocking noise.”
Booker carried the phone into the kitchen and sat down next to Travis. “Have him bring it to the shop.”
Katie put a big plate of biscuits and gravy, bacon and eggs in front of him.
“I will.” Rebecca sighed. “So are you going to be okay?”
He studied his food eagerly. “I’m fine.”
“Katie said you look like hell.”
“She’s the one who’s putting on weight,” he said, and knew Katie had heard him when she narrowed her eyes and tried to snatch his plate away before he could take a bite.
“Just tell me one more thing,” Rebecca said.
He curved an arm around his plate to protect it. “What’s that?”
“Tell me you’re not going to do anything to get even with Jon.”
“I can’t promise you anything there.”
“Booker, you don’t need this kind of trouble. Don’t let him—”
“He has to understand something, Beck.”
“Like what?”
“Like if he ever touches Delbert again, he’ll need more than his daddy’s name to protect him.”
ON SUNDAY, KATIE SAT in a booth at Jerry’s, with Travis across from her. She shifted, straightening her new maternity top. Thanks to Booker, she had clothes that fit and was wearing a nice pair of loafers. And she had twenty dollars in her pocket, which he’d insisted on paying her for work around the house. That was all good. Except the new clothes and shoes, and even the money, did little to soothe her anxiety when her parents walked in.
Taking a bolstering sip of hot cocoa, she resisted the urge to glance across the street at Booker’s shop, where he was handling a few details, and looked pointedly at Travis. “They’re here,” she said, patting the seat next to her so her brother would move there.