Page 33 of Daybreak

“Is that where you live?” Gunner asked.

Will shrugged. “It’s where my mom and sister live, and I’m there so they can take care of my boys when I’m on the road.”

“Safe trip,” Gunner said and got up and left the Rose while Will was at the front counter, paying for his meal.

Gunner got home, left the bag on the kitchen table, and went into the bar.

“Dad, your food is on the table. Go eat. I’ve got the bar until you get back.”

Jacob looked surprised. “You don’t have to—”

“I know, but we both know I know how. Go. Eat. I can put a good head on a glass of beer with the best of them, and I can pop the top off a longneck, too.”

Jacob nodded. “Don’t forget the pretzels.”

“I won’t,” Gunner said.

Jacob came out from behind the bar with a big grin on his face and went into their house. Having the time to sit and eat was a treat. He turned on the little TV in the kitchen to catch the noon news, then washed up and started pulling food from the sack.

Customers were thinning out, which was business as usual at a bar around noon. Gunner spent the time sweeping up crumbs and wiping down tables until a truck pulled up and two men walked into the Tumbleweed and headed for the bar.

“What’ll it be, boys?” Gunner asked.

They both looked startled. “What happened to Jacob?”

“Nothing,” Gunner said. “He’s eating lunch, and I’m his son. On tap, can, or longneck?”

They grinned. “Two Lone Star longnecks,” they said and sat down at the bar.

Gunner grabbed two longnecks from the cooler, popped the tops, then filled a bowl of pretzels and set it down between them.

The short one slid a twenty-dollar bill on the counter.

Gunner put the twenty-dollar bill in the till, gave them back four dollars in change, and left them to their beer and pretzels, yet well aware that they were giving him the eye when they thought he wasn’t watching.

Finally, the short one spoke up. “You look like your old man,” he said.

Gunner shrugged. “All of us boys look like him, but I’m not nearly as kind or patient.”

They laughed. “Duly noted.” They toasted him with their beers. “To attitude,” they said and took a big swig.

At that point, Jacob returned. He gave Gunner a pat on the back. “You are officially relieved, and thank you, son.”

“You’re welcome, Dad. I’ve got some calls to make. Give me a shout if you need me.”

Jacob nodded, then saw the two men sitting at the bar and went to greet them as Gunner left.

“Your son’s a pistol, ain’t he?” the short one asked.

Jacob grinned. “Let’s just say he does not suffer fools gladly.”

* * *

Gunner got as far as the living room before he sat down to call Holly. His stomach was in a knot the whole time the phone was ringing, and he was wondering what message he would leave on voicemail when she finally picked up, obviously out of breath.

“Hello, Gunner.”

“Hey, lady… You sound out of breath. If I’ve called at a bad time, I can call you later,” he said.