Free All in One Place by Carolyne Aarsen Page B

and hustle, you don't make the money. He works really, really hard…” Amelia drew in a breath. She sounded shaky, overly
     defensive of Rod, and my red flags were waving hard enough to attract every one of Dan's bulls.
    “Amelia, are you okay? Is something wrong?”
    “Well, yeah…” She paused. I waited. “Maybe.” Another pause, then a swift indrawn breath. “Oh, no. Rod is back. I gotta go.
     He wasn't supposed to be back for an hour yet.”
    “I'd like to talk to you—”
    “Meet me at the Harland Hotel bar. Tomorrow night. I'll have the car.”
    If I was supposed to be turning my life around, going to another bar was pretty much a 180. But I couldn't recommend any other
     places. “I'll be there.”
    And then I was holding the phone, listening to a dial tone and wondering about the note of fear in her voice.

    “M olson Canadian,” I said to the bartender as I slipped onto an empty stool. I didn't see Amelia and wondered if she was going
     to show.
    Work had gone better today. Cor and Father Sam had shown up again, and Jack didn't show up at all.
    I'd mastered eating on time and hadn't gotten stung for anyone's bill.
    On Helen's advice, I carried the unpaid bill from yesterday with me wherever I went. Harland wasn't that big. I just might
     run into my dine-and-dash kids again.
    Mathilde had yelled at me four times. In any other situation, I would have bailed. But for now, I had too much riding on the
     job and sticking around Harland. Leslie, her kids, the money I owed her. I wondered what she was doing right then.
    Her life had found a pattern and rhythm I couldn't catch. I thought I had found it with Eric, but that turned out to be one
     of the bigger missteps in my chaotic life.
    And here I was, not even a drop of alcohol in me and already getting maudlin. Any minute, I was going to be pouring out my
     life's story to the disinterested bartender.
    Though smoke hung in the air like a cloud and country music thumped out of the jukebox, the clientele looked more upscale
     than what I'd seen on my first social outing in Harland. A lot of the customers wore blue jeans, but I also saw a couple of
     suits, a few dresses.
    I gave the bartender a vague smile when he set my drink on a cocktail napkin in front of me.
    “This is a nicer place, ain't it?”
    She spoke quietly, but I still jumped.
    Amelia eased herself onto the bar stool beside me and waggled her fingers at the bartender. “Rye and seven,” she called once
     she got his attention.
    “How are you doing?” I asked.
    “I'm okay.” Though it was warm in the bar, Amelia kept her denim jacket on. Underneath it she wore a sparkly halter top that
     barely skimmed the beltline of her low-rise blue jeans. She fiddled with her dangly earring, then blew her breath down as
     if cooling herself off.
    “How did you get into town?”
    “Rod's gone overnight to Missoula. Some estate sale he was hoping to score some antique furniture from.” She gave me a wan
     smile. “So I'm using the car.”
    “I'm glad you didn't bring the baby here.”
    “Yeah. I guess.” I caught a note of quiet desperation in her voice and let the issue rest. She didn't need me cross-examining
     her about her baby. Truth to tell, the girl looked a little spooked.
    “So why did you want to meet here?”
    Amelia shrugged. “I like being at the bar. I don't know many other places to go. I'm not from around here.”
    “Where are you from if you're not from around here?” I asked.
    “Boise, Idaho. I met a guy there. We dated for a while, and then, well, I got pregnant…” She gave me an apologetic smile.
     “So he talked me into moving here with him. I thought we were going to get married.”
    “And, big surprise, you didn't.”
    “No. He left me here high and dry. Not the romance I dreamed about when I was a kid.” She swirled the ice around in her drink.
     “At least I have Madison.”
    Her pensive smile when she said her daughter's name penetrated my very soul.
    I took