Because he was selfish, and dangerous.
But what was selfish about risking his own skin, helping Miah hunt down the man who’d killed Don? He’d willingly told the authorities he’d snooped in a closed crime scene. He could’ve been investigated, maybe even gotten busted for all those jobs he’d pulled in Texas. He could have gotten killed going after Bean with Miah, had the man been carrying his own gun that morning. A selfish person wouldn’t have done either of those things.
A selfish man wouldn’t be helping a woman move, once he knew he had no chance of getting in her pants again.
And a selfish man wouldn’t have sunk his life savings—shadily earned or not—into a foundering business in a last-ditch attempt to preserve something authentic in a community soon to be beset by outsiders.
He had been selfish. There was no escaping that fact, yet since he’d come home he’d been anything but. Even that dumb-ass move, considering taking one last job . . . Even that, he’d wanted to do for her. She believed that. For all his faults, all his crimes, he wasn’t a liar, she thought, watching as he sandwiched the crib’s mattress between its sides, screwdriver tucked into his back pocket.
“Be careful.” She held her breath as they headed downstairs, worried he might trip and break his neck trying to carry it all at once, but they reached the ground floor without injury.
They found Miah alone in the den.
“Did Vince head out?” Casey asked him.
“Yeah. I told him to after he’d finished his beer. I need to get outside, check on how the hands are getting on with everything.” He eyed their loaded arms. “Need help?”
“Nah,” Casey said. “It’s only a couple trips.”
Miah got up all the same, no doubt eager for a distraction. “I can at least take her off your hands while you get the convoy organized,” he said, gesturing at the baby.
“Oh yeah. That would be helpful.” She set down her suitcase and got the sling off, and handed Mercy over. “Thanks. We’ll be quick.”
The two cars were loaded inside ten minutes, and Casey stayed outside, trying to get the Colt’s trunk to shut around the crib’s cumbersome corners. Abilene went back in to give the guest bathroom a final sweep, then downstairs, where Miah was settled back in the rocker with the baby propped against his chest.
“We’re fixing to head out . . . I’m sad I won’t be able to say good-bye to your mom,” she told him. “And tell her thanks for everything. All of you. I can’t say how much it’s meant.”
He opened his mouth. Closed it. She waited patiently, and at length he looked her in the eye and said, “Sit for a sec.”
She perched on the couch arm. “Yes?”
“Casey said you guys are . . . Well, that you had been something, but now you’re not.”
She flushed, but nodded. “Yeah. That kinda sums it up.”
“That’s all I know about it, that and the fact that he said he f—that he messed something up,” Miah corrected.
“It’s not quite that. There were just some things in his past that I couldn’t get on board with.”
Miah nodded. “He sorta filled me in, too, after the fire. It’s fucked up—I won’t lie.” He shot the baby an apologetic look for the cuss. “Sorry. But anyway . . . I mean, maybe my opinions about it are skewed, given how shady my best friend is, but I hope that if you two were something special to each other, that you’ll be able to forgive him, sometime. That’s completely your choice, obviously, but I just wanted to say, he’s changed.”
She nodded, hoping that was true. He’d been a bad man before he’d come home, but he was trying to be better now. Maybe not quite nailing it, but trying.
“More changed than you could possibly know,” Miah went on. “I grew up with the kid, and sure, he’s changed a lot since he was twenty, but he’s also changed a ton in just the past few months. Since he met you.”
Unsure what to say, she simply held his gaze, wondering what was next.
Miah sighed. “I’m such a wreck just now, I’m probably not even making any sense. But just know that . . . that he’s different, because of you. The Casey who came back to Fortuity would never have bought that bar, or agreed to stick around for his mom, or done everything he has for you and the baby. Something’s changed in him, and while I can’t say exactly what did it, I have no doubt you’re part of it. He’s gone from self-serving to damn near selfless in the last six months. He’s far from perfect. We all are. But he really is trying.”
“I know. But it’s still a lot to process.”
“I’m not saying he’s right for you or anything, and I won’t pretend I know exactly why you had to end things. But if it was good, and it was real, and all you need is to forgive him . . . I don’t know what I’m saying, except that good things don’t come along every day. And sometimes the ones that do are worth working for. None of my business, obviously. But for the first time since I’ve known that man, he deserves some credit.”
She felt her throat tightening, tears brewing, and found her fingers reaching for her cross. She was half-surprised to find something there to clasp once more.
She nodded. “He does. He’s been amazing to me, and I don’t want him out of my life. Or hers,” she added, nodding to Mercy. “But he can’t be the one for me, I don’t think. It’s too much to explain, but it’s as much about me as it is about him. I’ve made the same mistakes, again and again and again in my life. And it’s time to quit making them.”
Miah looked sad to hear that. “I think he feels the same way.”
That had the tears officially threatening to fall, so she rose and started getting the sling back on.
Miah sighed. “I’m sorry. That was none of my business.”
“He’s your friend. It’s fine.” Just hard, so hard to hear, when she was already having such a difficult time committing to the decision she’d made. She took the baby back and settled her in the cotton straps.
Miah’s face was so full of pain, she thought. She and Casey not working out was trivial compared to what his family had just suffered, but it must hurt all the same, knowing yet another good thing had been lost.
“Give your mom my best,” she offered, feeling lame. “Take good care of her, like she did for me and Mercy.”
He nodded. “Always. It was nice having you guys here.”
“Good luck with everything.”
“You, too.”
And with a quavering smile, she turned and headed for the front.
Casey was leaning on the hood of his car, looking at his phone. He tucked it in his pocket when the clatter of the closing door announced her arrival.
“Got everything?”
“I think so. Sorry to dawdle—I had to say good-bye to Miah. Say thanks and all that.”
“Course.”
He helped get Mercy into her car seat, and they each climbed behind their wheels and headed for town.
She eyed the farmhouse in her rearview. She’d been here just over two weeks, yet it had felt like a major, formative phase of her new life. Saying good-bye to Miah had been hard, but it was the next good-bye that she truly dreaded. Saying good-bye to Casey, this afternoon. He’d still be her boss, and hopefully her friend, but he’d so very nearly been so much more. She’d be saying good-bye for now, but also good-bye to everything they’d been for each other, this past week.
Will I greet him in a few months, when I come in for my shift, and still feel all this? All the longing and the sadness, the regret that they couldn’t have been more?
Miah’s words echoed. He’s different, because of you.
And she was different because of him. She had more faith in men than she had before, maybe ever. Faith that she could attract a guy who’d treat her well, respect her, worry about her, and be kind without expecting a thing in return. Maybe she’d managed to fall for yet another criminal, but she’d picked a good one, for a change.