“Casey? What about him?”

“You two. What are you?”

“He’s my boss. And my friend.”

“Tell me straight—you fucking him?”

She bit her tongue to quell a reflexive lie. She nodded. “Yeah. What about it?”

“I just want to know who he is to you. Who’s coming in and out of my daughter’s life.”

Who she thinks her daddy is, Abilene read between the lines. “He’s a good man.” Or he was now, she trusted. What he might have been before . . .

“I know he wants you safe,” James said. “But I also know he’s been inside, and I don’t know what for.”

“Neither do I. And I don’t want to.” All she knew was that it had been during his time in Vegas, so probably something to do with gambling.

“He’s coming around our daughter, so I goddamn do.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Yeah, I am. Because everybody knows exactly what it is I’ve been up to. And that I’ve done my time. But what do you really know about this guy? Really?”

“I know he treats me good. And that he cares about the baby.”

James flinched at that. Had to sting, knowing a stranger had been filling those shoes in his absence. Sleeping with his ex, caring for his child. Whatever came next, and for however long the present situation was reality, those two men would have tension. Some real ugly, heavy tension.

“You’ll just have to get good with him,” Abilene said. “Because he seems determined to be there for me.” As her lover, just for now, but as her boss and friend long after they quit sharing a bed, she hoped. Though would Casey still be so devoted, if James told him the truth about her?

“It’s not about my feelings,” James said evenly. “It’s about what’s best for the kid.”

He’d cooled himself off, and she did the same. She’d owed him answers and handed them over. But in all fairness she owed him a little more.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “For keeping you in the dark. And for how I was when we split.”

“Not much to be done about it now.”

“Except to apologize. So I’m sorry. You know, I stole from you, when we broke up.”

“Three hundred dollars,” he confirmed.

It was technically three hundred and thirty that she’d taken out of his wallet, and he knew that, no doubt. She’d heard him on the phone with his customers, and he quoted people their debts right down to the penny, with interest. That he wasn’t hung up on the thirty bucks reassured her. It hinted that she was still a person to him, not a transaction.

“I’m sorry I took it,” she said.

“Don’t be, for fuck’s sake. That’s nothing. Just a final fuck-you, and I was happy to let you have the last word, if the payoff was me stitching my life back together in peace after you ripped it up.”

“I’m sorry, all the same.”

“You needed it more than me. Long as it went to groceries or rent and not dope, what the fuck do I care?”

“I bought a car with it,” she said lamely. The same heap she drove now. Two hundred fifty she’d paid, and used the rest for gas and a few meals. Not much of an investment, but it had been her first taste of freedom in months and months. It had carried her as far as Fortuity before the gas ran out. Dead broke and hungry, she’d asked the waitress at the diner if she could maybe get some food and wash dishes in exchange. She’d been offered a job instead, and here she’d stayed.

“So what’s next?” she asked him.

“What’s next is that I meet my daughter. And after that we figure out where you two’ll stay, and how to pay for it.”

“I can worry about that. I’ll be going back to work soon.”

“You’d never have needed to stop if you’d been straight with me.”

And here she stood, at the edge of what she feared most. Here she stood, ready to hand this man a knife and beg him not to use it on her. “James . . .”

“What?”

“I have a favor to ask you. A big one. One that matters way more than money to me.”

“So ask it,” he said, never one for a preamble.

“Please don’t tell anyone about how things were, when we met.”

He stared at her. “So you do get how fucked-up it was, then? You get exactly why I was so fucking eager to find you, make sure everything was okay over here?”

“I do, okay? Just promise me. Please.”

“You don’t want him to know how you were. He thinks you’re some fucking innocent little girl who got mixed up with a big bad man, doesn’t he?”

“Don’t gloat. Just promise me you won’t. If he finds out, it should be from me.” And the only circumstance under which she could imagine telling Casey the truth was if they somehow fell in love, got serious with each other. But with his criminal past keeping Abilene at arm’s length, and Casey’s own mysterious misgivings, she trusted that was a conversation she could keep on avoiding, likely indefinitely.

“You’re fucking right; you should tell him,” James said. “You want to be good for our daughter, you practice what you’re preaching. Be honest with a man for once in your life.”

“You want our daughter to know why you missed her birth?” she countered.

“No, I don’t. But I also know she’s gonna find out someday. Because she’s gonna ask, and I’m gonna tell her. Just like he’s gonna find out about you. So yeah, you better tell him, unless you want somebody else painting that pretty little picture for you.”

“I’ll tell him. When the time’s right.” She didn’t suspect any good could come of explaining to James that she and Casey were only lovers, only casual, not when he was feeling so vigilant about the stability of Mercy’s situation. She let him infer it was more than it was, if only to skirt a lecture.

“We both fucked this all up real bad,” James said at length, tone softer. “Parenthood, I mean. And I’m really goddamn pissed at you right now. For not telling me, then for trying to shut me out. For running to a load of strangers and making me out to be some kind of psycho. I did a lot for you, you know. I forgave a lot, overlooked a lot. You used me and I was happy to let you, and this is how you repay me?”

“You scared me, when we broke up. I thought you might even hurt me.”

He shook his head, looking ancient. “I wish I could say you knew me better than that . . . But maybe that’s too much to hope for.”

“And you didn’t handle this situation all that great, yourself. Coming around in the middle of the night, spying or whatever that was about.”

He sat up straight. “What, now? This the same crazy bull Grossier was yelling at me about?”

“You came by. Miah saw you.”

“Who the fuck is Miah?”

She sighed, exasperated. “The guy with the black hair. Your height. He and his parents own this ranch. And he saw your truck, chased you down the road. Don’t deny it.”

“I sure as fuck will deny it. I’ve never set foot on this property before today. I didn’t know where you were. And even if I had, I wouldn’t’ve been stupid enough to show up uninvited. Grossiers pack more guns than sense.”

She wanted to believe him, only it didn’t add up. Who else would show up in a black truck, the same week James had been released and was trying to get to her, and come snooping around the farmhouse?

Still, she trusted his expression, and she’d never known him to lie—lying was for cowards like the old Abilene, whereas James feared nothing.

But she couldn’t accept the coincidence. Not a hundred percent.

“Now,” he said, standing. “I want to meet my daughter.”

Chapter 15

Casey was planted in the rocker, with a clear view of the second-floor landing and Abilene’s door. His muscles were tensed, ears trained for the flare of voices. So far, nothing but a dull murmur, no discernible words. Then, after what felt like three hours but was probably closer to thirty minutes, the door opened above. He gripped the arms of the rocker, resisting the urge to jump to his feet.