Casey swerved to a hairy stop at the shoulder of the quiet highway and killed his engine, whipped the phone out. Private, as always.
“Yeah?”
“It’s Ware. I’m ready to talk.”
Casey laughed into the bright morning light, steam rising. “Oh, are you? That’s fucking hilarious, considering how shy you got last night.”
“’Scuse me?”
“Who told you where she was staying?”
“Listen, Grossier, I got no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just following your fucking orders here. You going to facilitate this shit or what?”
“You tell me which motherfucker told you where she’s at, and maybe we’ll find out.”
“Listen,” Ware said again, voice jabbing like a finger in the sternum. “I got fuck-all clue what you think I got up to last night, but whatever it is, you’ve got it wrong. Now, you tell me how this is going to work, and I’ll play by your rules. Just let me talk to her. I’m way better at threats than begging, but hey, I’ll pucker up and kiss your ass and say pretty please, if that’s what it’s going to goddamn take.”
Casey frowned, a touch upended. Stay cool. Don’t fuck up. Don’t mention the ranch. “Fine. A phone call. You call this number at nine o’clock sharp, tonight, and I’ll have her there.” Arguing with the guy himself wasn’t getting anybody any closer to figuring out his game, anyhow.
“Fine,” Ware spat. “Nine o’clock.”
“Fine,” Casey echoed, and ended the call. He bellowed a cuss up into the blue sky, resisted the urge to slam that fucking phone down against the asphalt.
Chapter 12
The sky outside the guest room was bright blue as Abilene’s eyes blinked open, the day already in full swing. Her stomach rumbled. Best to get herself fed before the baby got the same idea.
She dressed Mercy in a fleece onesie and lugged her out onto the landing, smelling bacon. No doubt any leftovers would be cold by now, any eggs already devoured, but a cup of coffee and some toast would be welcome. And some company.
Casey had woken her when he’d risen at five, but she’d pretended to be asleep. She’d strained for a muttered cuss, for any tiny sign that he might have regretted waking up in her bed, but nothing. He’d just slipped out quietly to take care of his errands, leaving an all-too-fleeting warm patch on his side of the mattress.
She smiled to herself as she came down the steps. Coffee was nice, toast was good, but neither held the skinniest little stump of a birthday candle to the feel of a warm man hugging you through the night. She wouldn’t get attached to the sensation, but if ever in her life she’d needed to feel that, this week was the time.
“Hey.” The voice made her jump as she passed through the den, and Casey sat up on the couch, revealing himself. Her shock must’ve shown. “Sorry. Morning.”
“Morning. You done with all your stuff you had to do?”
He stood, nodded. Man, that body already looked different—already felt like hers, calling to her from these few paces away. He closed the distance, stroking his hand over the baby’s head. Abilene knew exactly what that rough palm felt like, and yearned for a little taste of contact. Just a whisper of his fingertips across her cheek. Anything. Junkie.
“Glad you got to sleep in,” he said. “You ready for breakfast?”
“Coffee, for sure.”
He waved an arm to tell her to go ahead of him, and she did, feeling shy.
“Sit tight.” He gestured toward the kitchen table. “I’ll make it. Cream and three sugars.”
She smiled at his back, chanced flirtation. “Can’t resist a man who knows how I take my coffee.”
“You think that now, but I’m about to wreck your day.”
Her smile wilted. “What do you mean?”
He didn’t reply. He came back with a mug and set it at her elbow. Then he sat himself, his cool expression casting that warm glow right out of her, like a blanket yanked from her shoulders.
A million awful scenarios rushed through her mind, the worst of them undoubtedly being that he was about to tell her she needed to go somewhere else. Far from this lovely old oasis of a house, maybe even far from Casey. Maybe into an actual safe house, into protective custody, where no doubt some authorities would be wanting to know more about her identity and her past than she was willing to share.
“What? Tell me.”
Casey rapped the tabletop with his knuckles. Sighed. “He called.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t expected that, not after last night. Talk about gall. “What did he have to say?”
“He denied coming by, no surprise. I wanted to tell him to forget it all. Forget getting to see you after that—” He caught whatever cuss would’ve followed just in time. “After what he pulled last night. But I had to calm myself down. Remember that nothing about this is going to get any better until we know where he stands. And the fact is, he’s likely to be straight with you, not any of us.”
“Probably.”
“Maybe angry, maybe a little scary, but I’m willing to bet he’ll tell you what’s on his mind. You know him well enough to read between the lines? Sense if he’s upset enough to try to hurt you?”
“I’d like to think so . . . But I’ve never given him this big a reason to be pissed before.” She touched the baby’s head fretfully, wondering how bad a swear “pissed” was. Probably small potatoes compared to the stuff Casey routinely let slip.
“I told him to call again at nine tonight, and that you’d speak to him. It’s really the only option. You up for that?”
“No. But I’ll get myself there, all the same.” She didn’t dare give James any more cause to spill his concerns to Casey or anybody else. The illusion of her innocence had never been so crucial as it was now. Being brave was the only option, lousy as she was at it. There was so much more riding on all this than her reputation, she thought, jiggling the baby when she fussed. There was the safety of everyone around her, of course, but beyond that . . . She owed it to her daughter to be stronger. Owed it to her to be the protective female role model Abilene hadn’t had herself.
Casey swung his legs over the bench. “I’ll get a bottle warmed up.”
“Thanks.”
“You want me with you, when you talk to him?” he asked as he measured the formula.
“No.” No, definitely not.
She thought back to this morning and last night—to every time Casey had shifted in the night and roused her, every moment she’d gotten to spend next to him. She hadn’t felt that secure in ages. Maybe not since before the great scandal of her teen years. Maybe not since she’d been a little girl, totally oblivious to sex. Even then there’d been the specter of an angry God hanging over her . . . But, man, had she ever come a long way from those original sins, from stealing mints from her grandma’s purse or whispering newly gleaned swearwords to herself, trying on what it must feel like to be a bad kid. If only she’d known just how bad she’d turn out . . .
Casey heated the formula and passed it off, sitting close as Abilene coaxed the baby to suckle.
“You scared?” he asked her.
“Yeah. I am. But I can’t put it off anymore.” After she’d found out she was pregnant, she’d been so frightened of what James would say, of what he might threaten, she’d avoided him for far too long. It had been easy to, when he’d been locked up a hundred miles away. That wasn’t an option now—he knew where to find her. And it wasn’t an option going forward, not if she wanted to keep the promise she’d made to herself and be a better person for Mercy. The old Abilene ran and hid. The new one had to find the courage to keep her feet planted and face her mistakes.
“No matter what he says,” Casey said, gaze on the nursing baby, “you’ll feel better, after. Just having it done with.”