The Trouble with Texas Cowboys (Burnt Boot, Texas #2)(40)

“Something isn’t right. I can feel it in the air,” Sawyer said when they opened the doors into the bar that night.

“I’ve been enjoying the quiet,” Jill said. “Seems like the feud is dying down, even after that chicken house incident.”

“It’s the quiet that worries me. After the business last Sunday at the church, and Naomi’s chickens flying the coop, you can bet your pretty little ass both parties are up to something. They’ve been layin’ low all week.”

Jill nodded. “Come to think of it, we haven’t seen much of them in the store either. Betsy did come in to buy a couple of whole chickens. Said her grandmother would have to make do until she could build a new henhouse. It was while you were taking a nap on the cot in the storeroom.”

Sawyer flipped the top off a Coors longneck and took a long drink from it. “And while you were taking a nap, Quaid came by to pick up two dozen pork chops. Almost wiped out the supply, and I didn’t cut up any more for Monday morning.”

“It’s the Brennans who are fixin’ to strike,” Jill said. “I wonder what they’ve got up their sleeves.”

“How do you know that?” Sawyer asked.

“Betsy didn’t ask about you. I bet there’s not a half a dozen of either family in church tomorrow morning. Looks like this will be a lazy night. We might even get to close up early.”

“Or not,” Sawyer said when Tyrell shoved his way into the bar. Betsy and a half-dozen Gallaghers followed him and claimed a table in the corner.

“Two pitchers of Coors and seven red cups,” Tyrell yelled as he plugged coins into the jukebox.

“I jinxed it when I said that,” Jill said.

The door opened again, and Kinsey Brennan, Quaid, and half a dozen Brennans lined up on bar stools. “I want a strawberry daiquiri, and stir it with your finger, Sawyer,” Kinsey flirted.

“A Miller Lite and a pitcher of margaritas, and one of Coors for our table,” Quaid said.

Jill took their money and watched as they each carried their drink in one hand and a pitcher in the other to a table as far away from the Gallaghers as possible. Even though Jill couldn’t hear a word either family said, their body language spoke volumes.

The Gallaghers were loud and boisterous, line dancing to fast songs, swilling beer by the pitcherful, and having a good time. The Brennans nursed their drinks and kept their heads together. Polly was probably right. The Gallaghers should be on Wild Horse Ranch, patrolling every square inch, because the Brennans were likely to strike that very night.

By nine o’clock, the bar was full and noisy, and smoke hovered in the air like fog. Evidently, dancing made folks hungry as well as thirsty, because Sawyer stayed busy at the grill while Jill drew pitcher after pitcher of beer. Thank goodness bar rules said that she didn’t carry it to the tables, but that they had to order and pay at the bar. And Polly did not run charge accounts or take checks or credit cards, so it was cash only.

“Looks like a normal Saturday night,” Sawyer said during a rare lull in business.

Jill wiped down the bar and nodded. “Maybe they’ve had enough thieving and burning down henhouses. But frankly, Sawyer, I don’t give a damn about the infamous pig war. I want to get through the night and sleep until noon tomorrow. I told Aunt Gladys not to look for me in church. I swear, by this time on Saturday, my butt is draggin’ so bad that I don’t have the energy to even sing.”

“And according to this sexy redhead who kisses like an angel, I snored last week, so I’ll be staying home with you,” he said.

That cocky little grin of his sent shivers down her back. What was wrong with her? Never before had a few kisses and a shared nap made her throw caution and common sense to the wind.

Then why am I doing it now? she asked herself.

“You are fighting with yourself again,” he said.

“Am not.”

“Yes, you are,” Sawyer said. “Your head cocks over to one side and then the other when you do that. Are you deciding whether to give Quaid or Tyrell another chance? If you want quiet and steady, go with Quaid. If you want a good time and a hell of a dancer, holler at Tyrell. As far as money and fame, you’ll get it with either one of them.”

She took a step to the side so that she was shoulder to shoulder with him. “For your information, I was thinking about my friend.”

“Betsy or Kinsey? I’ll put my money on Betsy, since you and Kinsey have some evil vibes going on between you tonight,” he said.

“No, my friend who protects me from the evil feuding family.” She grinned.

“Hey, gorgeous, can I get three pitchers of Coors?” Tyrell bellied up to the bar. “And, Sawyer, we’d like seven burger baskets. Load ’em up with everything. Double the grilled onions.”

Jill pulled the lever and filled three pitchers and set them on the bar.

Tyrell flipped two bills toward her. “If there’s anything left, consider it a tip. If not, let me know what else I owe when the burgers are done. And, darlin’, say the word, and I’ll wait for you after-hours and we’ll go watch the moon from a special spot I know about.”

“Sorry, the only thing I’m interested in…” She stopped short of saying that she wanted to fall into bed.

“Is what?” Tyrell grinned.