Page 113 of Mountain Men Heroes
“My sister is here with us tonight all the way from Texas. I think you all know who she is by now.” Zahara pointed her way where she stood beside Damon. All one hundred sets of eyes zeroed in on her.
Ice cold panic forced the last of heat from her and her heart skipped every other beat. Oh God, please don’t let this be going where she thought it would go.
“I’ve been waiting almost four years to shout this from any soapbox I could find. For a while I thought I would have to do it alone, but now we have all of you to join in on the celebration. My baby sister, Ivy Kennedy, will be graduating medical school in another five months, and I predict with summa cum laude honors.”
Oh, this just keeps getting better.
Ivy tried to draw some air into her lungs but nothing seemed to work. If her supervisor had anything to say about it, Ivy would never see the inside of a hospital again.
“Help me give her a rousing welcome and some Alaskan woots!”
Damon joined the crowd in clapping and raising their fists in a raucous cheer. Her name raised from everyone’s lips and drowned out Elvis on the jukebox.
Please let the floor open up and swallow me whole. Silver dots filled her vision and the crowd became blurry.
A warm arm wrapped around her, and she wanted to push it off and run from the room but couldn’t manage even that. All she could do was stand there like an idiot with tears in her eyes. Close to her ear, Damon whispered, “You okay? Whoa there. Take it easy. Breathe. Get some air in your lungs before you pass out.”
he took more of her weight into his arms.
“I…uhu…I, yeah.” She clasped a hand to her forehead and slammed her eyes shut as many of the patrons clapped her on the back in congratulations. Many thought she probably was embarrassed and they were right, but not for the reason they thought.
Fingers shaking and her knees weaker than noodles, she forced a smile to her lips but it felt so fake when everyone looked at her with such genuine happiness for her.
“Thanks, guys,” she managed in a shaky voice.
Still on her makeshift soapbox, Zahara caught her eye and Ivy looked up at her, unable to feel angry or mad at her sister but furious at herself. “We’re proud of you, little sis. I’m proud of you.”
And there went the last piece of resolve she had. Steamy puddles of tears slipped past her defenses and she felt the drops hit her sleeves. Damon silently passed her a hanky. First, she stripped in front of the whole town and now this. Could this day really get any worse? She patted at her tears as she gathered herself. Green lettering on his hanky caught her eye, and she smoothed over the cotton edges as she read the Savage name embroidered in a pretty script. Alaskan men were such a different breed.
The ones she knew were egotistical assholes anxious to play God. She’d almost fallen into that and someone died for her thinking she could save them. That she could somehow play God for them. How stupid. The weight of how disappointed Zahara would be settled on her chest. Ivy raised her chin and flashed her sister a grateful smile. “Enough of the sappy stuff, who wants drinks?” Clutching the neck of a whiskey bottle in her right and Vodka in her left, she poured shots as fast as glasses scooted down the polished wood.
Nothing would get the attention off her quicker than tossing booze around.
Damon turned with his back to the crowd and dipped lower for only her to hear. “I don’t know what is going on, but I know something is bothering you. If you need to talk...” He trailed off with a tilt of his head.
With half her attention on the patrons, she almost missed the sincere look in his eye. As if he wanted her to trust him. Lured deeper, she spent a second too long looking into the depths of his eyes. That second almost cost her. She opened her mouth to tell him but quickly shut it. People earned trust. Trust didn’t come freely or fast. She smiled up at him. “Thanks,” she offered and shrugged him off, “but I’m fine. Just caught me off guard is all.”
She put the twenty from the generous old man in the tip jar at the corner of the bar where Damon now busied himself again.
Anxious to get the topic off herself for good, she returned to what the old man at the counter had said. “Hey, what did the old man mean by it’s been four years since anyone else stood behind this bar anyway?”
Damon tipped his chin to acknowledge her question. But his frown was a red flashing light when he didn’t answer. True Ivy style, she bulldozed past the yield sign that warned of an avalanche and the ground was made of glass.
They’d worked most of the night passing booze and sliced lemons but not much talk. Granted, neither had too much of that to spare with drink orders coming in like fast food orders.
Pain, clear as the night sky beyond the front windows, rolled over his expression and stayed there if one knew what to look for. His hands slowed as he mixed a whiskey sour, the ribbons of amber liquid a mirror to the razor-sharp shards of color in his irises.
Her heart filled with the sorrow she recognized in his gaze instantly. Damn. What was wrong with her? She sighed wearily and planted her hands on the bar. “Look. Sorry. I get it. It’s none of my business,” she retracted fast in a low voice so no one else could hear.
He flicked her apology away, shaking his head. “Pay no attention to Theron Cougar. He’s just nosy with nothing better to do but whittle away his day out at his farm or get drunk.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could speak, she was interrupted by the scraping of the stool on hardwood.
“Good race today,” a voice boomed as the dark-haired man who owned it approached through the throng of people hugging the bar. He smelled of pine, which she now associated with Savage Ridge, strong cigars, and good whiskey. Broad shoulders encased in soft denim shouldered between two guys, and Ivy smiled when she caught a glimpse of old worn jeans outlining a well-kept body of an older man.
Ivy raised her gaze from the frothy foam of the beer at the end of her tap and slipped a practiced, patient smile in place.
He burst into raucous laughter and greeted several handshakes with a smile that brought out the delicate lines around his eyes. Savage senior, she reasoned. The father of the Savage crew.