least what you’re getting is fresh. Me and Jack stood in the river this morning, reeling it in. Rice and cornbread stuffing, squash, onion and pepper side from Jilly Farms… You probably don’t know about Jilly Farms—she grows organic heirloom fruits and vegetables and her sister, a chef, cans a lot and makes up special sauces and bisques, which I’m willing to take off her hands—the flavor of these vegetables is beyond good.”
“Bring it on!” Walt said, causing his pals to laugh. “Can’t wait to hear about tomorrow night. What are the chances you’ll have some of that seafood bouillabaisse again while I’m in town?”
“Aw, sorry man—not unless lobster tail and scallops go on special at Costco. Otherwise it’s just too high dollar for this camp.”
“I’ll get it,” Walt said, with a fist on the bar. “How much do you need?”
Preacher looked startled. “If you’re serious, it takes a lot to make it right. A case of each, fresh not frozen. And ask how long it’s been on ice. Sniff it—I want you to smell the meat, not bottom of a boat or shipping crates. Can you do that?”
“I can do that,” Walt said. “This is an exceptional nose. I’ll make these old boys a map for their ride and head to Costco. If they don’t have what I need…”
“If they don’t have it fresh, go to the fish markets in Eureka—the closer to the marina the better.”
“Done!” Walt said. “You boys won’t mind too much, will you? You’ll get payback when you eat.”
“We’re good,” Dylan said with a laugh.
“How was today?” Jack asked. “You had sun.”
“Awesome. There are some back roads along the cliffs right on the ocean. Good ride. There are a million logging trucks out there. They take up the whole road and then blast their horn at us.”
“That’s just a friendly hello. Don’t you boys have loggers in Montana?”
“Our friends are mostly ranchers or loggers,” Lang said. “Cutting back on the logging a little these days, and we were growing dude ranches like clover for a while there, but when money gets tight, girly stuff like that tends to be in a decline, though there are still quite a few.”
“Easy,” Dylan said. “I think I’m a dude with a ranch.”
“You ranch, Dylan?” Jack asked.
“Depends on your perspective. I have chickens, some goats, a bull, six cows, two horses and a hand who’s been watching that property for years. He was old twenty years ago, so now he’s ancient. I don’t exactly—” He was about to say, “earn money,” but he was cut off when the door to the bar opened and a man, woman and set of five-year-old twins came in. He watched as she took them in, all smiles. Then she took the hand of the man she was with and led him to the bar, to Walt first.
“Conner, this is Walt, and he changed my tire the other day.”
Whoa boy, Dylan thought. This little girl cleaned up nice. She had the look of a drowned Chihuahua when he met her, but here she was all fluffed and buffed and sexy as hell. He grinned stupidly.
Walt turned on his stool and grasped the man’s hand. “Well, good to see you again. We met the last time I passed through. Yes, the miss here had herself an impressive flat. She was determined she was gonna change it if she could just get past the lugs.”
Conner laughed and shook his hand. “Katie can change a tire—but the lugs always give her trouble. To tell the truth, they give me trouble.”
“And, Conner,” she said, moving to stand beside Dylan. “This is Dylan. He also helped. I didn’t meet the others.”
Conner shook his hand, thanked him, and then Dylan introduced Lang and Stu. While Conner stood having conversation about the rides with Walt and the boys, Katie didn’t move away. Of course he was at one end of their foursome while Walt was at the other, but still. She was right there beside him.
“The husband?” he asked rather quietly.
“No,” she returned just as quietly, acting secretive, but she was mocking him. “The
JK Ensley, Jennifer Ensley
The Other Log of Phileas Fogg