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“We will. And maybe you’re the man for the job. But I got other things to consider here. Like, why Benji’s? Why not the diner?”

“They’re staffed. So’s the truck stop by the off-ramp.”

“And it really has nothing to do with the fact that your ex also happens to work here?”

Ware crossed his arms on the tabletop, leaned in, spoke plainly. “I’m not looking to make anybody uncomfortable. I’m not looking to keep an eye on her, or get into her life any deeper than I have to for her to let me see my kid. I just need work, so I can help her take care of that baby, and you’re just about the only place in town that’s hiring. Trust me—you’re not my favorite man in this county. I got no beef with you—you’ve been good to her, and to the baby, far as I can tell. But I still don’t like you.”

“I’ll live.”

“I was hoping it’d be your fancy-pants partner who’d be here when I came knocking, trust me. But I need money, and I need a job. An honest one. If you paid me a fair wage, I’d work hard until I could find something else. All I want is an application. If Abilene’s okay with it, and your partner’s okay with it, and you’re okay with it, great. If not, no big deal.”

“That’s a lot of ifs.” But the guy was being undeniably rational, and calm and civil, and motherfucking humble to boot, and Casey couldn’t say the idea was terrible. Abilene could use the child support, no doubt, and a fair-minded biological father in Mercy’s life. Treat him decent, he might be more inclined to do the same for the girls.

Plus that keeping-an-eye-on-people shit—that went both ways, didn’t it? The enemy you know, and all that.

“I’ll talk to Abilene,” Casey said, “and if she’s okay with it, I’ll talk to my partner. And if he’s okay with it, you and me will talk again. Why don’t you give me your number?” Casey took out his phone and saved the digits Ware gave him.

“Thanks,” the guy said, a touch gruff. Not rude, but a little annoyed. And understandably. Who wanted to come asking after a job from a man he’d only just last week nearly gotten into a fistfight with? Plus, depending on how much Abilene had shared about her current situation, he might already know, or could guess, that she and Casey were sleeping together. That lowered his own hackles some, and he felt a little bad for the guy. After all, Casey knew exactly what Ware was missing out on. A great woman and a great child. At the moment, he was closer to both of them than Ware had been allowed.

“Whatever happens with this place, and a possible job,” Casey said, “good luck.”

Ware shrugged. “Can’t say short-order cook is topping my list of career aspirations, but I’ll take whatever comes. Especially around here.”

Casey nodded. Had to sting. In Ware’s apparently now former field, it sounded like he was a respected and feared commodity, and probably had done well for himself, financially. Before the feds seized whatever they may have. Now, to be looking for a gig slinging barbecue just to make child support happen . . . ? Yeah, he didn’t envy that.

Ware stood and slid the chair back under the high top. “Thanks for your time.”

“Sure.” He walked him to the door.

“Give her my best,” Ware added gruffly, his back to Casey, expression surely stony as always.

“I will. Later.”

He locked up behind Ware, feeling confused but calm. Hell, he’d been feeling confused about him ever since Miah had said that the old pickup now swinging out onto the street wasn’t the one from the night of the first creeper incident.

Ware seemed okay. Cold, maybe, but not sneaky. He might be a criminal, or a recovering one, but at least he was an open book about it. More than Casey could claim to be. Plus, the guy was broke, had found out he had a child out there in the world and an ex who’d been more than happy to avoid him, yet he was determined to see the both of them, determined to pitch in. He could easily have disappeared from Abilene’s rearview for good, saved himself the stress and the money, but he hadn’t. That was something. That was a lot. He might not be Father of the Year, but that baby could do way worse, all things considered.

He could have just taken off. Taken off, as Casey had last night, the moment things got serious. Could have taken off like Tom Grossier did, only he hadn’t. Hell, he was fighting to make himself a place in his child’s life, humbling himself for the chance, changing. Going straight, because he knew the payoff was worth it.

Last night was my chance to do the same. Casey’s chance to finally prove to himself he could set his precious freedom aside for once and embrace something worth committing to. It wasn’t as though freedom had ever made him happy, after all. It had lined his wallet, perhaps, but what was that worth, when you had nobody you loved to share the money with? Nobody to support or help out or treat? And he wanted to do all those things for Abilene, yet the moment she’d opened that door, he’d slinked off in the other direction.

Ware humbled himself, he thought. And he admired the man for it.

I could do the same. It wasn’t too late. He could admit he’d messed up, try to make this right. He had a chance to be the man he’d been wanting to become these last few months, quit running away from chances to grow up, and finally go running toward one.

He could, and he would.

He wasn’t going to fuck it up twice.

Chapter 21

Abilene passed a listless morning, nearly grateful that Mercy was fussing up a storm at every turn. It took her mind off her own discontent, whenever she had a spare second to remember how she and Casey had parted last night.

I told him how I felt, and he bolted. The old Abilene would have beat herself up over that, blamed herself for scaring a man away. The new Abilene would count it as a blessing, she imagined, because she had no room in her life for a guy who wasn’t ready to be what she needed. She couldn’t say that was much consolation, given how disappointed she felt, but she made it a goal to try to get there, mentally, in time.

It was nearly one before Casey got back to the farmhouse—and nearly the end of Abilene’s patience, which had been fraying steadily under the weight of her hurt feelings.

“There you are,” she said when he found her in the den, bouncing a red-faced and deeply annoyed infant.

“Here I am. And yikes. Somebody woke up on the wrong side, huh?”

She’s not the only one.

Want me to try anything?” he asked.

“Knock yourself out. She’s clean and fed and burped, and she slept almost nine hours straight through.”

“Well, that’s probably the issue, now, isn’t it?” Casey asked the sputtering, seething baby as he lifted her from Abilene’s arms. “You’re much too well balanced, aren’t you? No outlet for your tiny well of rage.”

“Something like that.” Abilene watched with mingled frustration and awe as Mercy quieted in seconds, face going placid, blue eyes glued to Casey’s.

“Show off,” she grumbled, though she was grateful for the quiet.

“That’s better, huh? How about I put you in your rocker?” He laid the baby in her seat, and Abilene held her breath, waiting to see if she started up again. Wonder of wonders, she looked as calm as could be.

“Hallelujah.” She dropped her head against the couch’s back.

“Your ex came by the bar while I was taking stock,” Casey said, sitting on the next cushion.

Her head snapped right back up. “He did?”

“Don’t worry—it was fine. He was after a job, actually.”

She blinked. “Really? What, bartending?”

“No, cooking, once the restaurant opens.”

“Oh. He did a lot of that in prison.”

“Said he valued his spinal health over a paycheck from the quarry, and I can’t say I blame him.”