“Very true.” Miles shot him a thoughtful smile. “It’ll be weird not seeing you every day, too. You’ll have to visit one weekend or something.”
That was Miles’s very unobtrusive way of inquiring about Shawn’s plans while Bentley Ghost Town was shut down to tourists, so the actors and other folks who worked there could spend the upcoming holidays with their families. Mack Garrett, the owner of Bentley, had decided to close up starting the Monday before Thanksgiving, and then open again the final week in January. The break coincided with the closure of the nearby dude ranch Mack’s grandfather owned, and where Miles’s boyfriend—nope, fiancé now—worked as head cowboy.
Miles was excited to have lots of time with his guy. Shawn just saw a great, gaping maw of empty time waiting for him. Maybe he could drive into San Jose and pick up some temporary kitchen work to keep himself busy. God knew he’d need the money. Despite Mack offering a competitive salary, Shawn had meds to pay for, no insurance plan, and he had to send a good chunk of every paycheck home to help keep Granddad afloat.
Shawn didn’t have the luxury of two months camping with a lover, riding horses, and being lazy. Not that Miles hadn’t earned the break from real life, especially after the last few months of dealing with an abusive ex.
“We should definitely get together for lunch or something,” Shawn hedged, uninterested in revealing to his boss that he’d been homeless for the better part of two years now. “It’s not like we can’t text or chat on the phone.”
“Yeah. You can come up for movie night or something.” Miles slid the burger onto its waiting bun. “Movies, popcorn, and drinks at Mack and Wes’s place. We usually do it a few times a week so we can all catch up, and you’re free to join us.”
Shawn swallowed an irritated grunt, unsettled by the timing of these offers of friendship outside the saloon. Why had Miles waited until now? Pity? Shawn could entertain himself just fine, thank you. But Miles wasn’t being overbearing or trying to pressure Shawn into anything. He was...being a friend.
“I appreciate it.” The printer spit out a new ticket, and Shawn fetched the small slip of paper. “Two Hangtown Fries, hold the oysters in one, and a side of corn fritters.”
Miles repeated the order and hit the small bell so Annabelle knew the burger order was ready. Then he reached for the eggs he needed for the Fry, while Shawn got to work on the fritters. In the eight months since the ghost town and saloon opened, their crew had created an easy, balanced work relationship, and they rarely had issues with getting food out. Okay, so maybe once Shawn accidentally made a batch of pies with salt in place of the sugar, but those mistakes were rare.
And funny, with the distance of time. In the moment, Shawn had been terrified he’d be fired on the spot, and he needed this job. He loved this job. He even loved the tiny bit of acting he got to do during the noon holdup in the saloon, where he had to pretend to be scared of the “thieves.” The cast and crew who kept the ghost town going had become a kind of family all their own, and he was so grateful to have that in his life again. It had been five years since he’d truly felt accepted anywhere.
By four thirty, the last of Shawn’s pies and biscuits were gone, so he helped Miles with side dishes for the final hour that tourists could order food. Most of the prepared hot line was empty when the last ticket of the season came over the printer. Miles blinked hard as he plated another Hangtown Fry with a side of fritters, as if grieving the end of their first work season here in the Tango Saloon.
Shawn’s own chest tightened. He wouldn’t be coming in tomorrow to cook, he’d be coming in to clean and shut things down. They looked through the last of the food on hand, fried up the end of the fritter batter, scrambled the leftover eggs, and Shawn used the last of the flour and butter to toss together a simple batch of cheddar biscuits.
A few at a time, cast members came through the kitchen like a small buffet and got food. Miles had suggested this to Mack last week, so they used up everything they could. Plus, free dinner as a thank-you for everyone’s hard work.
Mack and his boyfriend, Wes Bentley, were among the last people to come through the line, and there wasn’t much left. Wes was also Miles’s best friend, and the pair hugged for a while, both men probably sad to see the attraction they’d helped build temporarily shut down. Shawn’s own grief was less acute, tempered by simmering anxiety over his next paycheck. Shawn also hadn’t been there at the start of the ghost town, only coming on as a cook about a week before they opened.
“You sure we can’t help you guys clean up tonight?” Mack asked. “No one else has to drive up to do anything tomorrow, except me and some paperwork. Megan already closed up the general store for the winter.”
“After Mack so generously bought the last of the consigned bread and canned goods to give away to the cast,” Wes added with a lovestruck smile for his boyfriend. “Just when you think he can’t get more generous.”
Mack simply grinned.
Before Shawn could insist he didn’t mind cleaning tomorrow, Miles shrugged and said, “I’m cool doing it tonight if you guys are volunteering. In terms of supplies, there’s some flour, sugar, and baking powder folks are free to adopt, and I think some milk and half-and-half in the fridge. Forage away once we’re done.”
Shawn’s stomach sank but he didn’t contradict his boss. Instead, he started cleaning the line in a practiced, familiar way. Annabelle stuck around to help, and with five of them working, it didn’t take long to scrub the place down, unplug equipment that wouldn’t need to run, and scrounge up every last bit of stray food. Miles took a final trip out to the compost pile with the bus bin, which he then carefully washed and dried.
Annabelle hugged them all before she left, her eyes full of tears. “See you next year,” she said as she walked out the kitchen’s back door.
Their quartet left a few minutes later, slowly walking through the deserted town to the attraction’s main entrance and gravel parking lot beyond. Shawn’s feet grew heavier with each step toward his home for the next two months: a rusty hatchback that vibrated like crazy over fifty miles an hour and sometimes didn’t have heat.
His entire life was in that car.
After a handshake from Mack and hugs from both Miles and Wes, Shawn slid into his car and sat there. Watched the trio of friends climb into Mack’s pickup and trundle out of sight. Mack and Wes lived in a cabin off the road to the ghost town, and from there, Miles would drive an ATV back to the ranch where he lived with his own boyfriend. No one would care if Shawn stayed here for a while.
Not as if he had anywhere else to go, or anyone waiting for him to get there.
Except he couldn’t linger long. Mack’s cabin was out of sight of the road, but headlights and an engine too late at night might arouse suspicion, so Shawn turned his key in the ignition.