Page 23 of Hot Times in Heart Falls, Vignettes Vol 3

The ice had partially melted, making it easier to drink the shot in one go. They both put down their empties, then Ginny was enveloped in a tight, needy hug.

She squeezed her friend back just as intensely.

“I miss her.” Dare’s words came out shaky.

“I know,” Ginny offered.

When they pulled apart, Ginny was hopeful the evening was back on track. Sad, but a way to deal with enough emotional baggage to create their own personal Mount Everest.

Sitting with the Silver Stone crew meant they were safe, and Ginny relaxed a touch. The table was covered with a layer of empty beer bottles and glasses, making it easier for her to discard most of the new drinks after a single sip without Dare noticing.

And there were new drinks. The next two times, Dare asked a different ranch hand to grab them their drinks. The tab was still under Dare’s name, but it meant whiskeys arrived every ten minutes or so.

“Wait,” Ginny interrupted after the fourth shot, desperate to regain control. “We need something special this time.”

Dare raised a brow.

It wasn’t only an attempt to slow her friend down. Inspiration hit, and with it, tears nearly burst free. “We need a drink in honour of Shayla.”

Dare’s little sister who had also lost her life in the accident. So young, so much future in front of her, gone⁠—

Across from Ginny, Dare’s lips quivered. Then she nodded, hard. “I’m getting these for us.”

She rose from the table and headed for the bar like a bull on a mission. A slightly tipsy bull, considering the crooked path she wove.

“Ginny.” Paul leaned into her right shoulder. “You doing okay?”

“Mostly. It’s a tough day,” Ginny admitted.

He nodded his understanding. “Your daddy was a good man. I’m sorry he’s gone.” He cleared his throat. “I’m heading out in about half an hour because I have a shift at four a.m. Some of the others will stay for a bit, but are you two going to be all right?”

“Absolutely,” Ginny insisted. “You’re not expected to babysit us. Although I do appreciate the save earlier.”

“You would have hit him with your purse if he’d taken half a step forward,” Paul drawled. “Yeah?”

She patted her bag, enjoying the reassuring heavy weight of it. “I have a brick in here.”

He laughed before eyeing her closer. “You’re not drinking. Not really, are you?”

She shook her head. “I’m clear headed and in control. I have family on speed dial. So you go ahead and enjoy the rest of your evening.”

He tipped his hat then moved back to the lively discussion on the far side of the table.

Dare reappeared, tall drinks in her hands and a grin on her slightly inebriated face. “For Shayla. She would have adored these.”

The drink presented to Ginny was a Shirley Temple. “I bet Rex was over the moon.”

Dare snorted as she sat. “He liked the drink order, not the special order.”

She pointed, so Ginny took a closer look.

The drink was tall and very pink. The skewer across the top held three maraschino cherries, glowing in that classic, over-the-top, unearthly red. Like ticking sugar bombs waiting to explode.

Ginny reached for her glass and hoped her liver was up to the food colouring overload.

3

Rough Cut looked like it always did—dim lighting, sticky floor, walls that hadn’t seen new paint since before cell phones were a thing. Still, it was familiar, and most nights, welcoming.