Gundown by Ray Rhamey Page B

total asshole.”
    She couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Total.”
    He nodded. “So I didn’t want to leave it like that. Where can I take you?”
    “A motel, I guess. No, the bus station. I left our bags.”
    “Let’s go.”
    She stepped past him and sat on the rear seat. She thought about how much cash she had. “You know a cheap place we can stay?”
    He nodded. “I’ve got a spare room you can use, too.”
    She frowned and started to get out. “Yeah, right. Guys are all the same.”
    He laughed and held up his hand to stop her. “I’m not thinkin’ what you’re thinkin’ I’m thinkin’. My cousin lives with me”—he smiled—“and he’d think it was a hoot, the idea of me hittin’ on a woman, even one pretty as you.”
    It took her a few moments to realize he’d just told her he was gay. She had to get a grip. She couldn’t go around thinking all every man wanted was her brown ass. She sank back into the seat and the cabbie shut the door. She said, “Thank you, uh . . .”
    “Franklin Emerson.”
    “Thanks, Frank.”
    “Franklin.”
    She laughed. “Right. Chloe, this’s Franklin, our new friend.”
    Chloe peeked up and dimpled a little smile.
    “And I’m Jewel.” She took a closer look at the guy. Go to his house? Well, she kinda liked him. He was working hard on the promise thing. As she watched, his knees sagged ever so slightly. Man was beat. On top of that, she had her stopper. She could handle him.
    She smiled and said, “So let’s go get our bags.” Franklin got behind the wheel and started out.
    Jewel cuddled Chloe close, relaxed, and felt a rush of gratitude that she was okay; there was nothing like danger to your baby to remind you what was important.
    Franklin’s home looked like an old farmhouse plunked down on a residential street. It sported touches of gingerbread, and a broad porch wrapped the front and one side. Jewel especially liked the porch swing hung from chains, partly screened from the street by a wisteria vine that grew across the front. Tall maples and oaks shaded the house and yard.
    Jewel felt right at home in the living room, mostly because the furniture was early Goodwill like hers had been. She wondered what had happened to it. She should have told Juana to take whatever her family could use.
    Franklin helped her and Chloe get their bags in. A hallway led to four bedrooms: a tidy one that Franklin said was his, one with a musky scent coming from it—his cousin Earl’s—and two unused but clean rooms with single beds and small dressers. Franklin said, “Sometimes I rent rooms to actors in town to do a play.”
    Jewel was quick to say, “Let me know what, I’ll pay.”
    “You get a couple days to look around.” He grinned and tousled Chloe’s hair. “And squirts stay for free. Don’t take up much space. Make yourself at home.” He pointed to his room. “I’m takin’ a nap.”
    After Chloe and her rubber ducky had enjoyed a playful bath in an old-fashioned tub with feet, Jewel tucked her into bed in the smallest bedroom for a nap. Then she surrendered to exhaustion and collapsed on the porch swing. A quiet hour went by, and then Franklin joined her, two beers in hand. She accepted one, and they sat in restful silence.
    The rumble of a busted muffler interrupted the quiet when a red pickup truck pulled into the driveway and stopped behind Franklin’s cab. A shirtless, blond young man, tan, lean, and muscled, bounded out of the truck and trotted up to the porch.
    Franklin smiled. “Jewel Washington, meet my cousin Earl.”
    Earl hopped onto the porch and took Jewel’s hand. His blue-eyed gaze flicked to her scar and then took in the rest of her, then came back to look her in the eye. He smiled. “A pleasure.”
    Jewel was surprised to find herself liking the way Earl looked at her. She said, “Me, too.”
    Franklin said, “Beer?”
    “Like to, but I got a meeting.”
    Franklin said, “Where you heading?”
    Earl glanced at Franklin.