I take a deep breath. Then I lift one finger and gather my wits enough to walk into the kitchen, take the tequila bottle, and down a shot. Then I stand there, holding the counter as the alcohol burns through me.
Storm slips in, and I jump. She must have followed us to the house. I somehow missed a giant black dog at my side until she sneaks in, sensing my mood and trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. Just like someone else …
Dalton stands in the doorway, his expression saying he’s trying very, very hard not to hover.
“I was about to ask if there were any openings at the general store,” I say.
His gaze searches mine. It sounds like a joke, but he checks first and sees the truth. He walks over, fills the shot glass, and downs it, coughing slightly.
“Yeah,” he says. “I was wondering whether Isabel’s still looking for help.”
“You’d make a lousy bartender. Everyone would get exactly one chance to tell you their problems. Then you’d offer solutions, and if they came back complaining about the same shit, having done nothing to solve the problem, you’d send them
packing. The Roc would go out of business in a month.”
“Truth.”
I push my shot glass toward him.
He glances down at it. “You know if I fill that, I gotta dispense my unsolicited advice, too.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
He tipples a little into the glass.
“Half a shot?” I say.
“For half-assed advice.”
I chuckle and down it.
“This job sucks,” he says. “Yours and mine both suck, but especially yours. You have a fucking awesome knack for being right there whenever shit goes down. You made choices. Will made choices. Diana made choices. So did Jay. So did Sophie, and maybe she wasn’t in a mental state to make good ones, but her mistakes started when she chose to go out in the forest without a sat phone.”
“Someone else in her group might have had one.”
“Then she chose not to go back and get it.”
“That isn’t fair.”
He leans against the counter. “Yep, it’s not. Just like it isn’t fair to blame Will for taking a headshot to save you and Jay. Like it isn’t fair to blame Jay for trying to help out. Like it isn’t fair to blame you for holding off on your shot, hoping it wouldn’t be needed.”
“I notice you left Diana out there.”
“That’s ’cause I totally blame Diana for being a fucking idiot.” He catches my gaze and exhales. “Fine. Diana did warn Jay not to untie Sophie, and she’d been about to come and tell you when Sophie leaped up. However, I’m still blaming Diana for doing nothing after that except scream her fool head off.”
I shake my head. He reaches into the cupboard and pulls out a bag of miniature chocolate bars. I’m about to joke that he’s ramping up his bribes to keep me here when I remember what I was just thinking a few moments ago.
That hadn’t been fair. If I sucked at my job, Dalton would find me a new position. He wanted me here, but never at the expense of endangering others. Thinking that had been a moment of weakness and self-pity, and I’m glad I hadn’t said anything.
“These are new,” I say as he hands me a couple of tiny bars.
He shrugs. “Saw them in Dawson. Figured I’d hide them until you pulled out that electronic book reader you bought me.”
“Uh…”
He unwraps a bar as he gives me a sidelong look. “You saving it for a special occasion?”
Another pause. “I was about to joke that I was saving it for a break between dead bodies, but that’d be in poor taste.”