“Uh, I don’t think it was a joke. That was pretty intense.” Ruby grabbed her hand and tugged Cordy to her feet. “Come on, we need to get you to the hospital.”
Cordy didn’t budge. “Where’s Chance? He’s supposed to be my coach.”
“Can I text him to meet us there?”
“No, I need to find him!”
“Okay, okay, let me call him.” Ruby held the phone to her ear for several moments. “No answer. I’ll text him to meet us at the hospital.”
“What if he doesn’t get it?”
“Let me call Quint.” This time Ruby got an answer quick. “Hey. No, I’m fine. No, seriously, this isn’t about me. Is Chance with you? He’s not?”
The look Ruby cut to Cordy was worried.
“Where is he? Cordy’s going to have the baby.” A pause. “You don’t know where he is? It’s the middle of the goddamn day! Fine, if you see him, tell him Cordy’s having this baby. No, I don’t need you to come out. I’m okay.”
She hit the End Call button with more force than necessary.
“He doesn’t know where Chance is?” Cordy asked.
“No. One of the ranch trucks is gone. Quint figured Chance took it to go… somewhere.”
Cordy’s entire body went cold. She was going to have this baby alone. She’d thought she was strong enough to do that. But after Chance had been there for her all this time, she realized she wasn’t.
Cordy needed him, and he wasn’t here.
Mr. Ulker at the Old Timers’ table cleared his throat loudly. “I don’t mean to interrupt you having your baby there,” he said, “but I saw that ranch truck in town today. Just about an hour ago.”
“You did?” Cordy was ready to leap over the tables and shake the information out of him. “Where?”
“The Red Dog.”
A hush fell over the entire Donut Palace.
“But…” Cordy couldn’t understand. “…it’s only one in the afternoon.”
“That place opens at ten,” Ruby said grimly. “Jack says it’s to catch the lunch rush.” Ruby tugged at Cordy’s arm. “Come on, let’s get you to the hospital. I’ll text him.”
“No.” Cordy pulled away. “He’s not getting away with this. He promised me he’d be with me…So I’m going to drag him out of there.”
twenty-two
Cordy had never beenin the Red Dog before. The place had the worst reputation, and the exterior lived up to every nasty thing she’d heard.
The sign was missing the D in Red, and the O in Dog had been X’ed out by some graffiti-writing teenager ages ago. The door was propped open, but it sagged so badly on its hinges Cordy doubted it could shut anyway.
When she walked in and saw the industrial carpet on the floor, she couldn’t repress her shudder. There must have been several decades of spills in that carpet, which would never come out. Although the lighting was dim, she could still see the years of neglect on the walls and furniture.
This wasn’t a place where people came to have fun. This was where you came to drown your sorrows.
Behind the bar, Jack, the owner, was eyeing her skeptically. “I think you might be in the wrong place.”
Cordy walked up to him, remembering that he was her colleague. She’d bartended in worse places than this, although not by choice.
“Is Chance Kessal here?” she asked. “Because if he is, I’m in the right place.”
Jack’s mouth tightened. “I know who you are. I don’t want a scene.”
