Page 19 of Waiting in Wyoming
Her family could be a bit weird sometimes. Meyra was used to that, too, and she loved each and every one of them.
She made it back to the inn in time to see another set of guests arriving—two women and two little girls. She helped get them checked in. They were also from Finley Creek—apparently, Brandt’s sister knew them.
They had been getting lots of guests from Finley Creek lately. Most of them did know Charlotte or Brandt, so it did make a little bit of sense. Or they were the cops coming up there from Texas.
About the drugs that were being found in Wyoming now.
Drugs that people had died over.
Meyra shivered when she remembered what those drugs were causing. People were dying. Even in Masterson County. They thought that the men who had attacked Brandt were involved with some of those drugs, too.
It just kept getting closer. Reiterating the truth—no one was really safe anywhere.
She ended up working the desk again that evening—she and Dylan had somehow ended up covering Abby’s shift when she had called off next, but they had decided to hang out at the desk together instead of taking two half shifts. She liked being with Dylan, and when Daisy joined them, they had a lot to talk about.
Meyra was tired, but it was a good tired—the kind you felt after a long, uneventful day. She was still at the desk when a man walked up, wanting a room.
Daisy took him and checked him in quickly.
Then, they were going back to Dylan’s room—Dylan had something she was worried about. Meyra was going to figure out what it was.
“I’m going to spot-check the dining room,” she told Dylan as another man walked in the front doors, looking tired and rumpled and everything a few minutes after a set of DEA agents checked in, too. “I’ll meet you upstairs in ten minutes.”
“Great. Bring the rest of that cake you made. That cake was awesome, and I really need cake right now.” Dylan looked at the man for a long moment, almost as if she knew him. Then she turned back to Meyra. “Man, everybody does start to look the same after a while in this biz, doesn’t it?”
“It does. But I kind of like it. The routine of it.”
“Yeah, I guess this is the place real Talleys belong. Safe and secure at the inn forever.” Dylan shrugged, but Meyra wasn’t stupid. Sometimes she got the feeling Dylan didn’t feelsecureat the inn at all.
Well, how could she? Dylan had been shot in the kitchen right down the hall. No wonder she looked a little scared there sometimes, right?
14
Dylan had seenthe man before. She was almost one hundred percent certain of it. But since she was now a little Talley Inn-keeper, she wasn’t entirely certain where. She just did her clerky duty and checked Mr. Wade King in quickly, putting the middle-aged businessman in the bank of rooms reserved for middle-aged businessmen who asked for business-class discounts. Just down the hall from the DEA agents who had looked around with condescension in their eyes. Buttheads—but she’d been polite like she was supposed to be.
She was getting so good at this front desk thing. And the dining room thing, and the housekeeping thing—though that was her least favorite part, she was a bit too short to stretch well when making beds. Okay, so she was a lot too short, but she dealt, she dealt.
Did she feel any realconnectionto the inn that had been in her father’s family for just shy of one hundred years yet? Well, not really. Dylan was happy her three baby sisters, Devaney, Dahlia, and Dorie, were connecting with their newly discovered older sisters and cousins now. They were lonely, those three.And having a real family, besides just each other and their wackadoodle pair of parents was important to them.
But for Dylan, this place just didn’t feel real. Like where she was supposed to be.
“Why the long face?” the man asked. She’d thought he was occupied with his registration. Apparently not, and, well, they were supposed to be cheerful, helpful, and welcoming. At all times.
Well, maybe Dylan Geraldine Brown-slash-Talley just wanted some time to brood occasionally? Was that really too much to ask?
“I’m just thinking of some family things. Issues with family that I don’t know all that well. Families, Mr. King, I have learned, can be super, super complicated.”
He laughed a bit, then adjusted his hat. It covered his eyes a little, and he kept his head turned at a slightly awkward angle. She suspected he’d had a stroke or something at one time, too. He hadn’t really even met her eyes, either. “That they can. I have four girls around your age, uh, Dylan. And the world is far more complicated for them now than when they were in school. But it eases up when you’re older. I can promise you that.”
“I hope so. But, well, I have discovered I am the impatient type. Enjoy your stay, Mr. King. Thank you for choosing the Talley Inn.”
After she checked him in and then checked the updated guests-still-not-there list, Dylan was ready to turn everything over to the cousin in charge of the night world. Marin worked eleven-thirty until one-thirty, five nights a week, running reports and audits, that kind of thing.
Dylan was good with Marin. That cousin was very accepting of all of Dylan’s quirks. Marin and Meyra and Daisy—she clicked best with them.
Darcey, Dixie, Miranda, Dusty, and Charlotte—they were a little on the scary side, those five. And Dylan suspected she got on their nerves sometimes. Pesky little Dylan kind of thing. It came so naturally to her, after all.
“Anyone check in?” Marin asked behind her. Dylan turned. There her cousin was—tall, a bit too skinny, incredibly beautiful. Her hair, the exact same shade as Dylan’s, looked gorgeous. Dylan’s looked like a kitchen scrubby sponge or something. Maybe she should try straightening it again. Grow it out, straighten it, and pray to the hair gods that she somehow ended up looking likeMarinjust a little bit?