Samantha Jeffers looked up as a rowdy bunch of cowboys piled out of the big booth. Sheâd waited on them, ignoring their flirting and serving them quickly and efficiently. She hoped they left a good tip, but probably not. The Hot Skillet wasnât exactly a high-class restaurant. But it did good business, especially when the rodeo was in town. Sheâd heard the winter traffic was good in this part of Arizona during ski season, but sheâd gotten here right at the end of February, as the lifts were just shutting down.
As soon as the men were out the door, she went over to clear the big boothâ¦and discovered the cowboys had left one of their friends behind. The man was slumped down, his face pale.
âAre you all right?â she asked.
Slowly, as if his lids were too heavy, he opened his eyes. âYeah, sure,â he muttered and closed his eyes again.
âMister, the boss wonât let you tie up this booth to sleep off your hangover.â She wasnât trying to be mean, just stating the facts.
He opened his eyes again and sat straighter. The movement caused him to wince.
âAre you hurt?â
âUh, maybe.â
âSam?â her boss called from behind the counter. âYou gettinâ that booth ready? Thereâs a large party cominâ in.â
âI still have a customer,â she turned and called over her shoulder.
âHe orderinâ anything?â
âMister, youâll have to order something,â she whispered, âor heâll throw you out for sure.â
âI canât,â he growled.
âLook, Iâll cover the cost, butââ
âNo. I think I have to go to the hospital.â
Samantha frowned. âMister, our foodâs not that bad.â Her poor joke got a half smile out of him, which impressed Sam. He was obviously in pain. âWant me to call an ambulance?â
âNo! I donât want anyone to know. My truckâs here. I donât suppose you could drive me?â
Checking her watch, Sam realized she had fifteen more minutes of her regular shift, but sheâd come in four hours early, at 6:00 a.m. this morning, as a favor for Brad, her boss. He should be able to spare her for fifteen minutes. âWait a minute. Iâll see.â
She put down the big tray sheâd carried to the table and crossed to the counter. âBrad, I need to leave fifteen minutes early.â
He didnât look at her, a sure sign he was unhappy. Sheâd been here a little over a month and had learned to read his moods early. âNot âtil your shiftâs over.â
âBrad, I started at six this morning as a favor. Seems to me you could reciprocate.â
âDonât use them big words on me!â
âYou know what I mean. Anyway, itâs not for me. That cowboyâs sick. Iâm going to drive him to the hospital.â
âYou mean youâre gonna get in his bed. Donât lie to me!â
âBrad, thatâs none of your business. I do my job and Iâve done more than my share today. Iâm going.â
She turned away and he yelled, âIf you leave, donât come back!â
She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and made a quick decision. She didnât like working here even if the tips were decent. And Brad had been trying to get a little too familiar lately. âFine,â she said calmly. âIâll clear out my locker.â
RICH RANDALL FROWNED as he realized what had just happened. The waitress had just been fired because heâd asked for her help.
Now he regretted his ridiculous pride for not asking his friends, well, his semifriends, for help. He hadnât thought about the waitressâs situation. Sheâd ignored all the horsing around of the guys while sheâd waited on them. Hal had won the bronc riding at the rodeo. Rich had come in second to Jay in the bull riding competition. The whole group had been celebrating most of the day.
Before he could consider his choices, the waitress, pretty in a quiet way, came out from behind the counter, carrying a big pouch purse over one shoulder and a sweater over her arm. âReady?â she asked cheerfully.
âLook, I donât want to cost you your job. We can call an ambulance.â
âNo need. Is your truck automatic or stick?â
âAre you sure?â he asked, trying to ignore the pain in his ankle and read her expression.
âIâm sure. Can you walk out of here?â
Heâd make it up to her somehow he thoughtâwhen the pain eased. âYeah, I think so.â
She slid the table back, giving him room and then, as he stood, slid an arm around his waist. âIs it your leg?â