Lynn closed the door to the motel room and walked to her car. Her luggage held in one hand, the Dream Catcher and purse in the other. Walking to the rear of the Saab, Lynn sat her luggage down and put the key in the slot and turned it. As the trunk opened she took notice of the lights by the highway. 'Grill' lit up like a beacon in the night to an empty stomach.
She put her suitcase in the hatch and closed it. She raised the Dream Catcher up and took a glancing look as she walked to the passenger side of the Saab. Stroking the feathers and contemplating where the lost feather could be. She left the clean up crew a big mess in her attempt to find it.
She counted the feathers one more time. "123 ... 456 ... 78," Lynn sighed then put the Trinket in the seat and shut the car door. She turned on her heels and followed the scented trail of food.
The Last Chance Bar and 'Grill' was a service station, truck stop, cafΓ© and motel combination. Lynn slid into a booth towards the back where it was mostly vacant. A few 'truck' drivers sat at the 'bar' and drank coffee and flirt with the petite young Native American waitress.
She walked over towards Lynn with a pad in hand and a glass of water. The two truck drivers lightly whistled as they got the 'wiggle' while she was walking away strut, a big tip encouragement.
The waitress set the glass of water down and then pulled the menu from the stand where it is kept on each table. Lynn smiled and took the menu from her hand.
"Thank you," Lynn said then began opening the menu.
"Can I get you anything to drink?" The waitress asked, standing there smiling.
"Uh, no water's fine, thank you." Lynn replied then scan the country cooking' gourmet list.
"When you're ready to order, just let me know!" She said then walked away. The truckers were in verbal wait like wolves unable to resist howling at the moon.
Lynn had pretty much decided on the chef salad but was thumbing down the list in case something grabbed her appetite's eye. Her scan of the entire 'grill' gripped her vision when she saw a wall with a lot of old Indian paintings and pictures. Some pictures were blown up in size like that of the Railroad and trains, an old ghost town, caves, silver mine and collection of local memorabilia. Local High School banners and team pictures.
One painting caught Lynn's eye. Old Indian women with long gray hair in braids over her shoulders and one feather from her hair. Her sunken smile was the give away. Lynn was sure it was the woman whom had sold her the Trinket.