She blinked. “Really?”

“Doesn’t absolutely mean it wasn’t him . . . But I have my doubts now.”

“I had some of my own. He told me it wasn’t him, and I’ve never known him to lie.”

What was to be done about it, though? Nearly nothing aside from hoping someone spotted that other truck . . . But there had to be dozens of dark, midsized, older pickups around town, to say nothing of the county at large. Not so much needle in a haystack as needle in a needle factory.

“You didn’t eat lunch,” Casey said, setting the mystery aside. She’d been too nervous, earlier.

“No, and I’m starving.”

“Feel like a trip into town? Grab something at the diner?”

She considered it. “I guess I could, now.”

“Course you can. Celebrate your freedom—no more reason for house arrest that I can see.” Her ex knew where to find her now, and it seemed perhaps he wasn’t, in fact, crazy enough to stalk her.

“Okay, then. Let me just get Mercy’s stuff together.”

“Great.” He accepted the baby so Abilene could head upstairs. She returned with a diaper bag, and they swung by the kitchen and chatted with Christine, filling her in about the meeting while Abilene fixed a bottle.

“It’ll feel nice to get yourself off the rez for an hour or two, I bet,” Christine said.

“Maybe a little. No offense.”

She smiled and waved the thought aside. “It’s no fun feeling trapped, especially with a new baby. When Miah was tiny, I used to look forward to my sister visiting, so I could get a little time to myself. I remember driving into town and just wandering the aisles of the drugstore, elated just to be someplace else. Anyplace else. I’d offer to take her now, in fact, except the vet’s coming in twenty minutes.”

“No, it’ll be good for her to get a change of scenery, too,” Abilene said, and kissed the baby’s head, with her palm on Casey’s shoulder. His face went warm and he was glad everyone was focused on Mercy.

“Dinner’s at eight,” Christine said, turning back to the laptop open on the table.

“Would you tell Miah where we got to?” Casey asked. “I owe him a beer and a talk.”

“No problem.”

Abilene took the baby and they headed out.

“I wonder when my car will be fixed,” she said as Casey was unlocking his Corolla.

“I’ll ask my brother. Hopefully this weekend.”

“And when do you think I could go back to work?” She got the baby strapped into her seat. Casey’s car would look weird without it, he realized, once Abilene was driving again.

“Let’s hold off until after a couple more meet-ups, okay? But if the next two or three go well, and we can get you some childcare sorted out, I’d say there’s no point in waiting. But . . .”

“Yeah?” She buckled her seat belt, eyeing him.

“Maybe stick with babysitters you know really well, okay? Just to start. Just to be safe. Me, or maybe Kim.” Raina had the time and was equally trustworthy, but he couldn’t picture her taking care of a baby. He tried imagining Duncan’s attempt as well, and nearly laughed aloud. Though perhaps the two of them together might be able to survive it, some night when Casey and Abilene were both closing. He’d be tempted to videotape it, just to see Duncan’s expression when faced with a filthy diaper.

“I miss work,” Abilene said, once they were moving.

“It misses you. Or Duncan and Raina miss the two of us, I’m sure. Though before you say it,” he added, noting her darkening expression, “don’t feel bad. It’s only a week, and I’m sure they’re more than happy to help while things settle down for you.”

“Everyone’s been so nice about it all.”

He shrugged. “It’s what friends do.” And he was proud to count himself a part of that group, he realized, after all those years of only looking out for number one.

“You’re a very generous motorcycle club.”

He laughed. “And you’re very generous, even applying that term to us. Bikes just happen to be the thing we all bonded over when we were kids. The bunch of us are well overdue for a nice, long group ride, too.” Duncan made things tricky; he rode just fine, and being with Raina, he ought to be invited on such an outing. But if he went, Miah likely wouldn’t. Church would come up with a million work-related excuses, no doubt, so maybe some weekend soon they’d just have to trick him into it. He seemed to be getting over his shit with Raina, at least.

“You could come,” Casey added. “Ride with me.”

“That’d be the most exciting thing I’ve done in ages, if I could find a sitter.”

“Confronting your gunrunner ex not thrilling enough for you?” he teased.

“The most exciting fun thing.”

The speed limit dropped to thirty as the town materialized around them, homes and businesses growing dense as the rural route morphed into Station Street. It gave Casey a funny feeling and made him nearly wish he was working that night. He was in the mood to listen to the gossip, to pour drinks and take in the smells and sounds of the bar, the same smells and sounds from his childhood. Lubbock had been hot, but not like here. Not dry like northern Nevada, not half as dusty. Even Vegas hadn’t smelled quite like Brush County did, like clay and sage, and distant fires, come summer. No place felt quite like home, he thought, as familiar buildings slid into view on either side of the road.

“Hey, it’s your shitbox,” Casey said, nodding to the auto garage. Vince had both bay doors wide open and was standing by Abilene’s Colt with a wrench in his hand. Casey honked. Vince waved. “You’ll be back on the road before you know it.”

“I hope I can make all of this up to you guys someday,” Abilene said. “Especially your brother, for the money he gave me, and now my car. And you, of course, for a million things.”

“You don’t owe me crap.”

“I beg to differ.”

Casey assembled his feelings, trying to get his mouth to go someplace soft and sentimental here in this car, as he’d managed in bed with her.

“Everything I’m experiencing, because of you and the baby . . . It sounds stupid, but it means a lot. I’ve never been for anybody what I’ve been for you two. And it’s hard and it’s exhausting, and I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, but I like it. I feel useful in a way I haven’t before. So you don’t owe me a thing. You’ve given me plenty, trust me.”

He was relieved to turn into the diner’s lot and cut this conversation short. Nice as those things were to say, they also made him feel insanely naked. Which was fine when you were under the covers with somebody, but something else entirely out here in the larger world.

He got the car seat out and lugged the baby into the diner while Abilene held the door. He registered a mix of pride and awkwardness, carrying her in, and was pleased not to recognize any faces as they entered and scanned for a booth. Having been away for nearly ten years, he was always getting grilled by old neighbors and classmates about what he’d been up to, and he never had enough answers. Now, to get spotted with a woman and a baby in tow . . . ? He didn’t have the energy to explain.

Once they were settled, an older waitress came by. Abilene had worked here for a few months the previous year, and there was the requisite fawning over the baby before coffee was on the way.

Casey didn’t need to see the menu; it hadn’t changed since he’d been a kid. He ordered a cheeseburger and Abilene got soup and a sandwich.

He hunkered down on his elbows and smiled at her. “Your first taste of freedom in almost a week.”

She nodded. “Feels good. Smells even better.” She held his gaze, then looked to the window, her smile goofy. “What you said, in the car . . .”

“It’s all true. That’s all we need to discuss about it.”

“It was sweet,” she said, meeting his eyes once more. “That’s all. I don’t think anybody’s ever said something that nice to me before.”

“Their loss.”