Tucker sat down beside her and propped his forearms on his knees. “So you work in a bar?”

“Ever since I was twenty-one. Until then I did waitress work,” she answered. “How much did you hear?”

“I got there when Lucy was offering you a job to quit working in a bar,” he answered.

“Sounds like you heard most of it, then. I’ll be working at a bar on Friday and Saturday nights. I understand that you drink a little on weekends.”

He got to his feet. “I’m going to get a couple more cookies and another cup of coffee to take upstairs with me. And, honey, I drink a lot on Saturday nights.”

“Just so long as we understand each other.” Jolene stood up and headed toward the kitchen. “Right now we could take fifteen minutes off and call it a midmorning snack.”

“Got chocolate syrup?” He followed her into the kitchen.

“For the cookies, the coffee, or the milk?”

“Milk, and then I dip my cookies in it,” he answered.

The ladies had called him a tortured soul. Jolene stole glances at him as she got out the chocolate syrup. It was a shame that he’d lost his wife so suddenly. He might never get over it, but she sure wasn’t looking forward to dealing with another weekend drunk—like her mother or that last worthless boyfriend.

Tucker never would’ve figured Jolene for a bartender. Maybe an elementary school teacher or even a bank teller. She wasn’t big enough to be a bartender, for one thing, and she was way too cute. The drunks would have her in tears in minutes.

Surely she worked somewhere like the Southern Comfort, a bar at the country club over in Tyler. He could visualize her in a place like that. Melanie’s dad had a membership there, and Tucker had gone with him to that place one time after a game of golf. That night a tall redhead had been working the bar, and she’d been flirting with a man in a three-piece suit. He remembered it well because the man had taken off his wedding ring and shoved it into his pocket.

He looked down at his own ring and felt yet another wave of guilt. Every time he and Jolene were in the same room, something warmed his cold heart. He wouldn’t betray Melanie by letting another woman take her place. Melanie had always told him to remove his own ring when he was working with tools, but he just couldn’t do it. He looked down at his ring now and felt another wave of guilt.

“You sure are quiet,” Jolene said.

“Thinkin’.” He finished his milk and carried the glass to the dishwasher. “That was a crazy bunch of old ladies. One’s religious. One’s kind of fussy, and the other one owns the local bar.”

“They were Aunt Sugar’s best friends from the time she was a little girl, way back before they bought antique stores and inherited a bar.” Jolene poured two cups of coffee and handed one to him. “Dotty’s husband, Bruce, died years ago. None of the four, including Aunt Sugar, ever had children. I think that’s why they were so close, and why Aunt Sugar’s going off on this long, extended trip has left a hole in their lives. She kind of held the group together, especially after Dotty kept running the bar even after her husband died. I wouldn’t be surprised if Lucy isn’t on her religion kick from missing Aunt Sugar as much as the fact her latest boyfriend died not long ago.”

Tucker’s brow wrinkled in a frown. “She’s still dating at her age?”

“Lucy likes men”—Jolene’s shoulders raised in a shrug—“but Aunt Sugar going away can’t be easy. They are all in their late sixties, so this is a drastic life change.”

“Did your aunt live right here her whole married life?” he asked.

“Not just her married life. Her whole life—period. Her grandparents owned this property. When they passed on, they left it to her father. He’d just gotten married, and he and his wife had Aunt Sugar that next year. They opened the inn up for business right after she was born. Grandpa nicknamed her Sugar when she was a baby, and it stuck. When he died he gave this place to Sugar and the equivalent of its worth to my mother.”

Jolene’s soft, lilting voice soothed Tucker, so he kept asking questions. He wasn’t really interested so much in her past. For all he cared, she could read the Bible or even the phone book to him. “How’d your mama feel about that?”

“She never liked this place, so it didn’t bother her one bit. She and Aunt Sugar had always kept in touch even if they weren’t good friends, mainly because of me—or at least that’s what Mama said,” Jolene answered. “You ready to go back to work? I’ve got enough energy to help you get that last piece of furniture out of the room and then we can pull up the carpet.”

He put their dirty dishes in the dishwasher. “You got brothers or sisters?”

She shook her head. “Nope, and my folks are both gone. All that’s left of my family is me and Aunt Sugar. Daddy went with a heart attack when I was sixteen, and Mama . . .” She hesitated for several seconds. “Mama got addicted to pills and alcohol. She overdosed when I was twenty.” She headed out of the kitchen.

The pain in her voice mirrored what he felt when he thought about his precious Melanie. He could hear the hurt and pain in Jolene’s tone, and a fresh wave of guilt washed over him, but at least he wasn’t hurting anyone by his weekend binges.

“By blood, this place should be all yours.” Tucker followed her as they climbed the stairs.