“Heya,” he offered, and headed for the fridge, after a beer.
“Hey.” She had a mixer in one hand and a big bowl of steaming, boiled potato chunks before her on the counter. The baby was in her rocker beside the table, those wide blue eyes gazing up at a menagerie of colorful, dangling animals.
“My mom put you to work?”
“Sort of. She seemed stressed-out, so I told her I could make dinner. Well, I mean, she’d already had the meat all seasoned and ready to go. I just put it in the oven and peeled some potatoes.”
She’d done more than that. There was gravy simmering on the range, and when he peeked in the oven there was a pan of vegetables roasting on the shelf above the beef.
“Smells like heaven,” he told her.
“I hope so. Should be ready in about twenty minutes.” She glanced at the oven clock. “I hope Casey’s back in time.”
“Oh right, he’s at his mom’s place, huh?” Miah twisted his bottle open and took a long drink. Goddamn, beer never tasted so good as when you were ready to collapse.
“Yeah,” Abilene said, her voice almost too casual, somehow. “And some other errands, I think.”
“You been feeling okay, on your own?”
She nodded. “I’m not worried about James anymore. If I was on my own all night, I might be anxious, but not for any good reason, you know?”
“Wish I could say I did know.” Miah took a seat. “But this bull with whoever’s been sneaking around has me pretty keyed up myself. One of our hands had to go and stay with her folks until it’s resolved. The whole thing’s got her real uneasy.”
Abilene frowned, dropping chunks of butter in with the potatoes. “I could see that. I mean, the guy was creeping around the bunks, right? And with a camera? Gross.”
“No doubt.”
“Pardon me,” she said. “I’m gonna be noisy for a minute.”
Miah scooted down to the end of the bench, watching the fidgeting baby and sipping his beer while Abilene whipped the potatoes. Man, did this kid have tiny feet. And fingers. And fingernails. Everything, miniature. He wondered how long it’d be before he found himself with a daughter or son of his own. A few years, at least, but he was starting to believe it would still happen, sooner or later. He was over his ex, finally. When he’d still been mired in that heartache, meeting someone new, someone he could love enough to start a family with . . . It had seemed all but impossible.
But time healed all wounds, they said, and he felt ready to move on. Best way to get over one girl is to get on top of another, Vince had told him. That wasn’t Miah’s style. Simply to have a crush on somebody would be a welcome change to his daily life. If only that somebody would turn up. Fortuity didn’t exactly draw the bachelorettes in with its promises of gainful employment and exotic nightlife. He might just be grateful for the casino after all, if that was what it took to bring some new blood to town.
His mom walked in just as Abilene finished with the mixer, followed shortly by his dad. No Casey, but around here dinner waited for no man.
Miah told his folks about Kat’s departure, and about the property scout. The former was sad news all around, and inconvenient to boot, but the latter . . . With a beer cooling his blood and good food in his belly, the whole thing struck him as a touch funny, in retrospect.
“That much?” His mom gaped when he passed her the card with the figure on it. “That’s even more than the first guy’s offer. What’s he know about this place that we don’t?”
“Sure he knows something,” her husband said bitterly. “Probably has some tip about whatever new highway’s bound to be coming through or some horse crap like that.”
“Even if that was true,” Miah said, “it’s not like anybody’s going to make us rich—not with whatever compensation a road would bring. Not enough to justify that number.”
“Maybe somebody’s found gold in the creek,” Abilene joked.
“They’re about a hundred and twenty years past the trend,” Don said, dismissing the idea with his fork. “All we’re rich in here is land. Land that we haven’t wrecked, unlike some of the so-called modern cattle operations I’ve seen.”
He was getting het up, and his wife shot him a look. “Don.”
“Mark my words—this is no dude ranch they want to put in. It’s either some slimy insider deal, some highway scheme with a load of slot parlors and service stations and strip joints, or else it’s some industrial outfit, after our range. MacPherson’s, maybe. I’ve been hearing rumors that they want to go large-scale grass-fed for years now—”
Miah’s mom butted in. “Don, not only is this all beside the point; it’s incredibly boring for Abilene to listen to.”
Abilene shrugged, seeming amused by the whole thing. “She’s right, though. If you’re never going to sell, who cares what they’re after?”
“True enough,” Don said sagely. “True enough. If we ever sell, it’ll be from a natural disaster. A complete dry-up or a massive outbreak. A true catastrophe, not just because some sweaty shit from God knows where shows up, waving his boss’s wallet around.” Too late, he realized he’d sworn, and apologized to their guest.
“I’d love to know what the deal is, though,” Miah said, and speared a wedge of carrot. “Can’t say I’m not curious, the way they’ve come on so strong these past couple weeks.”
“The casino’s starting to look like it’ll actually go through,” his mom offered. “Have you driven by the foothills lately? The heavy equipment’s all come back, plus we got a notice in the mail with a blasting schedule from the Silver State people.”
Miah smiled dryly. “I’ll hand it to the new contractors—they’re more courteous than Virgin River ever was.”
His mom nodded. “Or gun-shy, anyhow. And either way—whether they’re ethical or just trying to cover their butts—you won’t catch me complaining. If there’s got to be a casino, this is looking like a vast improvement, so far. No one can argue that.”
Miah smiled grimly. “No, I guess not. Though it sure would be nice to wake up and realize the whole damn project was just an awful dream.”
• • •
Once dinner was over, Christine ushered Abilene from the kitchen, telling her she’d done plenty for one night and to go take it easy while the rest of them dealt with the dishes.
She was only too happy to comply. Mercy had been suspiciously calm all evening, and was now due to boil over at any minute. Sure enough, she went into a fit no sooner than Abilene had started up the steps to the guest wing. It took a good hour to meet all her needs and settle her back down, but at long last she seemed to have wailed herself into exhaustion. Maybe she’d even make it two for two, and sleep through the night again.
Abilene got settled in bed, though she wouldn’t sleep herself, yet, not until Casey was back. A glance at the clock beside the reading lamp told her it was ten of ten. If he didn’t show by eleven, she’d text him. She didn’t want to appear too needy, but at a certain point, worry would kick in. Worry for him, and worry at the prospect of facing a night without him nearby, in case there was another prowler incident.
For now she’d read and try to not fret too much about what could be keeping him out for so long, when all he’d said was that he needed to take a phone call and check on his mother—
She turned at a soft rap on the door.
“Come in.”
Casey’s voice. “It’s only me.”
Only. Only the person she wanted to see most in the entire world. “Come in.”
She sat up straight, flinging the magazine she’d been browsing under the bed. It was an old copy of Glamour that she’d “borrowed” from the pediatrician’s office more than a month ago. She’d bring it back next time Mercy had a checkup, but for now, it felt like a lifeline to the outside world. Or actually, no—to the past. To simpler times. She’d had subscriptions to about five of those dumb magazines when she’d been fourteen, fifteen—sent to her grandma’s house, since her dad would never have approved of all that makeup and such short skirts. She’d pored over them the way she once had her Picture Bible, fantasizing that someday she’d be skinny and fashionable and have a cell phone and kiss boys.