A Father's Stake Read Online Free PDF Page A

front—an old blue pickup truck and a very big motorcycle, painted patriotically in red, white and blue with an eagle decoration on one side. An eighteen-wheeler was parked off to the side.
    Grace slid out into the blanketing warmth of the afternoon, thankful she’d worn a short-sleeved white shirt and denim shorts with sandals. As soon as she stepped inside she was greeted with cool air. The space was larger than it had looked from the exterior, with low-beamed ceilings and worn Salito tiles underfoot. Western music hummed in the background.
    “Help you?” someone asked, and she looked toward a set of swinging doors to the kitchen. An older man, dressed in stained cook’s whites, smiled at her as he stepped into the room. He came to the counter and wiped his hands on a white rag. Lines fanned the edges of his eyes, and his gray hair was pulled back from a center part in a long braid.
    “I need some food to go,” she said, crossing to the counter and slipping onto the nearest stool.
    “Just name your poison,” he said as he passed her a single sheet menu protected by plastic.
    She realized it was about the same as the menus in most of the diners she’d worked in—sandwiches, burgers and fries, chili, even some pizza. “I’ll take a turkey sandwich on wheat, not toasted, with steak fries and the largest cola you have with lots of ice, please.”
    He nodded and crossed to a soda machine, packing ice in a large take-out cup before filling it with soda. He brought it back and set it down in front of her. “Thought you could use this first,” he said, and reached for a straw from under the counter.
    “Thanks.”
    He didn’t move to put in her food order. “Where you heading to?”
    “Wolf Lake.”
    “You’re too early if you’re looking for the casino or hotels that way,” he said. “Not even up yet, but they will be.” He shook his head. “So, what you got left is picking up some native art, or souvenirs, or maybe taking in one of the tours near the Rez.”
    She undid the straw and pushed it through the lid. “None of that,” she said, then took a sip of the chilled drink.
    Thankfully, he turned, saying, “Gonna get your food,” before heading through the swinging doors. Next thing she knew, he was pulling on a cook’s cap over his gray hair. He winked, then got busy with her order.
    She took another drink and glanced around. No waitress was in sight, and only five customers were at the tables near the front windows. The cook looked as if he was doing everything by himself, moving quickly around the kitchen. He came out with two plates of food for one of the tables, then hurried back into the kitchen, reappearing almost immediately with a large white bag. “There you go, Ma’am. Napkins and ketchup in the bag.”
    She paid, then grabbed the bag.
    “Drop by on your way out of town if you’re going this way,” he said. “I’ll get you some real food when you’ve got the time to sit and enjoy.”
    “If I come this way again, I’ll do that,” she said, slipping off the stool. “You know Wolf Lake very well?”
    He chuckled. “Heck, yeah, born and bred on the Rez, then slipped on down into town when I was, oh, around twelve. Been there ever since, except when I’m down here running this place. If you need a place to stay, my niece runs a bed-and-breakfast in town. Nice place, too, and reasonable.”
    “Thanks, but I have a place,” she said, hoping the house was livable.
    “Where’s that?” he asked, reaching for the white rag and starting to clean the counter.
    “On a ranch on the other side of town, from what I was told.”
    “What ranch?”
    “Wolf Ranch.”
    His hand stilled and his dark eyes looked right at her. “Wolf Ranch,” he echoed. “You sure you have that right?”
    “Yes, sir, I do,” she said.
    “You’re a friend or something with the new owner?”
    She had a feeling the man was upset for some reason, but his voice stayed even. “I am the new owner,” she