“How long you plannin’ on stayin’?” he asked in a dark tone. He adjusted his arms, and it struck me that he was powerfully built for a man who appeared to be in his forties.

I tried not to let him know he’d rattled me and gave him a flippant answer. “I guess as long as it takes for Wyatt to fix my car.”

“And how long’s that gonna be?”

I set the last beer in front of his companion, then put my hand on my hip and infused plenty of attitude into my stance. “Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe Wyatt will conference-call us both so we can find out together.”

He sat up so quickly his chair legs slammed into the floor. “This here’s my town and I ain’t gotta put up with your shit.”

I stared at him in disbelief, taking a half second to come up with an appropriate response. Ignore him or rip him a new one? It helped that I knew Max kept a baseball bat behind the bar.

But Max beat me to it.

“Hey!” he shouted, setting down the mug he’d been filling with a loud thud. Beer sloshed out over the sides and onto the counter. He placed his hand flat on the bar next to the mug, leaning forward with hard eyes. “This is your only warnin’, Bingham.”

Bingham’s face was a mask of contempt as he slowly lifted his hands up next to his head, showing Max his flexed fingers and empty palms. “I didn’t lay a hand on ’er.”

But the look in his gray eyes told me he was a dangerous man. It was easy to see that he didn’t like being issued orders—and liked following them even less. If the Drummonds were seen as some sort of authority in this town, it was little wonder he seemed challenging.

Max tilted his head ever so slightly, the small gesture banishing the good-natured, affable man I’d known for the past two hours. “I’m pretty damn sure I made myself clear just moments ago. Do I need to bring Tiny out to show you how to treat the staff? He’s busy as shit, gettin’ a mess of wings ready for y’all, but he’d be more than happy to oblige if you’re being disrespectful to Carly.”

Bingham held Max’s gaze for several long seconds as he slowly dropped his hands, and I had a wild fancy that Bingham was about to whip out a six-shooter for an Old West shoot-out. Instead, he gave me a sarcastic grin. “Welcome to Drum, new girl.”

“Thanks,” I said, trying not to let him see my shaking hands. I gripped the tray so hard I was surprised it didn’t break in half as I made my way back to the bar. I wasn’t sure what had just happened, but it had scared the shit out of me.

Max had his eyes on Bingham as he filled a mug, while Bingham’s gaze was still firmly on me. The beer overflowed onto Max’s hand, and he flipped the tap shut and set the mug on a second, half-full tray. He snuck a glance at me and murmured, “You okay?”

No. I was stuck in a one-stop-sign town with a potential maniac who obviously detested me, with no way to escape for several days. Oh, and I was hiding from two people who should love me. I was far from okay, but I’d be damned if I’d admit it. “I’m fine.”

“He’s in your section, but I’ll have Ruth cover his table,” Max said, shooting me a guilty look. “I should have warned you. Bingham has his good days and his bad.”

“I sure as hell hope this was a bad day,” I muttered.

Max made a face, letting me know he could get a whole lot worse.

Even so, something refused to let me back down. I was sick to death of bullies.

“He doesn’t scare me,” I said.

Max’s eyebrows shot up.

I lowered my voice. “Okay, he does a little, but I’m sure as hell not gonna let him know it.” An ounce of fear would be like blood in shark-infested water. Rose, the woman I’d lived with back in Arkansas, had taught me a lot about dealing with rough men. She didn’t let any of them run roughshod over her, and neither would I. Sometimes the only way to get respect was to demand it. No more kowtowing. Carly Moore would be fierce. “I can do this.”

He nodded slowly, a grim look plastered on his face. “Okay. But don’t antagonize him, and if you get into trouble, look my way. I’ll jump in immediately, and Tiny is literally three seconds away. He may be big, but he can move fast.”

“Thanks,” I said, meaning it. I’d worked a lot of jobs in my thirty-one years and never had a boss back me up like this. It was obvious he truly cared about his staff. He thought of them as family. It warmed my heart to realize I was part of that group, if only for a few days.

I picked up the tray and steeled my resolve as I headed back to Bingham’s table to finish handing out beers to the rest of the men.

An amused grin lit up Bingham’s face as he held his hands out at his sides. “And she’s back for more.”

I gave him a sweet smile as I served the other men sitting with him. “I can’t leave your friends thirsty just because you and I got off on the wrong foot.”

He didn’t say anything else and I moved on to the next table, but I could feel his eyes pinned to my back—or perhaps my ass—as I made the rounds to the twenty or so new guys.

I’d just handed out my last beer when the door opened again. Wyatt walked in, a cold breeze trailing in with him. A few flakes of snow clung to his dark brown hair and his brown jacket. His cheeks were tinged pink from the wind.

My breath caught at the sight of him. He scanned the room, and my heart skipped with anticipation…until his gaze landed on me. He stopped in his tracks, but it was clear he was anything but happy to see me—his expression hardened and he made his way to the bar as if on a mission.

“What’s Wyatt doin’ here?” I heard one of the men ask. “Can’t remember the last time I saw him here.”

“Dunno,” a second guy said, but he flicked a glance in my direction.

Me? While I could see that I was the variable here, why would Wyatt give two shits about me other than worrying about me stiffing him on his bill?

Max walked down to the end of the bar to greet his brother, but from the looks on their faces, it wasn’t a friendly reunion. So this was why he hadn’t paid a visit in some time. The brothers clearly didn’t get along.

I shot a glance to Ruth, who was watching with open interest. She gestured for me to join her by the food counter.

“Do you know what that’s about?” Ruth asked.

Although they were much too far to have heard us, the Drummonds both turned to look at me before facing each other again, Wyatt’s mouth pressing into a tight line.

“Holy shit, they’re arguing over you.” Her eyes lit up with excitement.

“I have no idea why they’d be doing that,” I said, trying not to panic. “Wyatt and I didn’t exactly hit it off, but I didn’t do anything to elicit him coming in and chewing out his brother.”

“Oh, I suspect you’re not the cause of it,” she said. “Just an excuse. They’ve been feuding since before Wyatt went to prison.”

That sucked the air out of my lungs. “Prison?”

She made a face, her gaze still on the two brothers. “DUI. There were a couple of other charges, robbery and breaking and entering, but the robbery charges didn’t stick because the only witness disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”