“No time like the present,” Silas said.
Five minutes later, armed with a thin chisel and hammer, Maggie set to the delicate work.
“Don’t destroy the whole surround,” Wallace groused when the tip of the chisel sank into the seam.
“I’m trying real hard not to,” she shot back. Tongue caught between her teeth, she carefully worked the wood until the tiny finish nails gave up their purchase. “Sy, can you reach in there?” She nodded toward the gap she’d created at the center of the mantel.
He slid his fingers inside and used his thumb to raise the coin. Triumphantly, he drew it out and held it up. They gathered around him and stared as he flipped the coin over.
“Well, holy shit,” Wallace muttered.
HashBrownNerd: Carpet in the bathroom?? Do you know how many decades of pee are in that mess?
Alicia100: Want to earn hundreds werking from house? Checkout vlog here.
PurplePeopleAvoider: I just want to be BFFs with Maggie. She seems like the kind of girl who would eat seven tacos and drink a pitcher of margaritas in one sitting and never get annoying.
24
“We look good,” Dean said approvingly as Maggie approached him in the gravel parking lot. Music of the country variety thumped behind him in the timber building.
“Damn good,” she agreed, doing a little twirl in her new jeans and curve-hugging button-down. “I can’t believe you went your entire life without those boots.”
“I can’t believe you went eight months without a damn curling iron,” he shot back, plucking at one of the waves she’d worked into her hair.
“The two of us out on the town, dressed to the nines—”
“Closer to the fives,” Dean insisted. “The nines do not involve denim.”
“Either way, this deserves documentation.” She handed him her phone. “You’ve got longer arms.”
He held her phone out at arm’s length. “Say one million subscribers!”
They both did, and he snapped the picture.
“You better use that beauty filter all over my face,” he threatened, looking at the final product.
She snatched her phone back. “Your crow’s-feet are distinguished.”
“Crow’s-feet?” he screeched. “I was talking about the gray hairs highlighted by that stupid streetlight. When did we get so elderly? Have I given you the best years of my life?”
“Saturday night out on the town. About to find out what puts the ‘cowboy’ in Cowboy Jake’s,” she said, ignoring him as she typed it out on her phone. “There. Posted. And you’re thirty-five. That’s not even midlife crisis territory yet. You have to hold off until at least forty.”
“Come on, Grandma. Let’s go see if this place has any early-bird specials,” he said, opening the door of the bar and ushering her inside.
The bar had prime positioning on a low bluff overlooking Payette Lake. Cowboy Jake’s was everything a western bar should be. Wood on the walls, sawdust on the concrete floors, barrels and lariats for decoration. There was a stage at one end of the room, a bar with backlit shelves of just about every kind of bourbon imaginable on the other. Between the two were tables crowded with people blowing off steam on a Saturday night and a dance floor in front of the stage.
Music was coming from the sound system, but it looked like a band was setting up on the stage.
“There they are,” Maggie said, pointing at Nirina and Kayla, who were waving from a table halfway between the bar and dance floor. She led the way, dragging Dean along behind her.
Introductions were made, and Maggie took an empty chair while Dean headed to the bar to buy a round of drinks.
“How was the store today?” she asked over the croonings of Luke Bryan.
“Good! New shipment of pottery came in today,” Kayla said, putting down her white wine. “All blues and greens in a crackle glaze. The dishes would look amazing with your new margarita glasses. Hint, hint.”
“I found these sheers in the back. They’re hand-sewn lace that screamed ‘Hang me in Maggie’s bedroom over the balcony doors,’” Nirina added.
“It’s true. They did,” Kayla said with a nod. “I was there.”
“I don’t think you have to work too hard to get me back in the store,” Maggie assured them.
“We’ll start a pile for you,” Niri promised. “So, Dean is gorgeous.”
“Please tell him that. He’s having a moment over gray hair and crow’s-feet,” she told them.