Katie laughed out loud. “My Rhett is a teeny Yorkie. I’ve been dog-walking for the dearest woman here in town, but this weekend will be my last days, and then I’ll go to work.”
“Okay! You got me!” Lila said. “I had visions of that old Deliverance movie in my head, and you had been bewitched by backwoodsmen and moonshiners.”
“No, but there is this really sweet single father who lives across the street from me. He has twin daughters who will be in first grade this year, so they may or may not wind up in my room.”
Lila frowned. “We’re teachers. We’ve seen every family mess and the children caught up in them. What’s his name? Why is he a single father? Is the mother in the background raining hell down on his life? What does he do?”
“His name is Sam Youngblood. His wife died giving birth. He’s the chief of police in Borden’s Gap. I am seriously safe in every respect, except from myself. I don’t want to get attached. I don’t want to fall in love again for fear I’ll be dumped.”
“Shut up! Does he like you?”
Katie sighed. “I think so. They’re the ‘friends’ I just ate supper with tonight.”
“How old are the girls?”
“Six, and he’s done an amazing job raising them. They’re funny, smart, precocious because…twins…and they grilled me like a burger tonight.”
Lila laughed. “Then, sister, I only have one piece of advice: enjoy the ride for as far as it goes. No what-ifs. No maybes. Just today. Every day.”
“Yes, I know you’re right,” Katie said. “But I so do not want to get my heart broken again.”
“Maybe he feels the same way,” Lila said. “Maybe this Sam fellow is afraid of loss just like you’re afraid of rejection.”
Katie blinked.
“I never thought of it like that.”
“That’s why you have me,” Lila said. “I love you. Call me. Don’t make me always be the one calling you. It makes me feel like a stalker.”
Katie burst out laughing. “Okay. I’m sorry. I’ll call you Monday evening after my first day at work.”
“Deal,” Lila said, then giggled and disconnected.
Katie was staggered by the news that the man Mark had worked for all those years had been a pusher for some local drug kingpin. She didn’t feel sorry for Mark. She didn’t feel anything. He was where he was because of decisions he’d made, and he was none of her concern.
***
It was the middle of the night, but Sam had just taken a load of sheets and clothes from the washer and put them into the dryer.
The noise they’d heard as Katie was leaving was the girls upending Fishy and his fishbowl in the middle of their bed, and tipping over the table it had been sitting on in the process.
Sam had rescued the fish and the bowl, then had to strip their bed down to the plastic mattress pad, grateful he still had it in place. But everything, including the girls and the bedclothes, was soaked.
The girls were okay until they saw the look on Daddy’s face. That’s when they burst into tears. It had taken hours to put their room back together and settle their world back on its axis. But the crash had been traumatic for all concerned. Fishy was still alive, but Sam was dreading tomorrow for fear he’d wake up with Fishy belly-up in his fishbowl.
So Sam was in bed, watching TV with the sound turned down and waiting for the clothes to dry. And in spite of all that drama, he couldn’t quit thinking about Katie McGrath. He’d had the best time with her that he’d had in years. The girls were curious about her but definitely accepting of her presence, only he was scared.
He’d never loved anyone in his whole life but Shelly. But he also knew she would be the first one to tell him it was time to let her go.
The thought made his heart hurt.
But Katie made him ache in a way he thought he’d never feel again. He knew way too much about her life—about her past. And getting jilted only months ago? What if he fell for her and she wasn’t over Mark Roman? What if Roman’s betrayal had done such a number on her that it was unlikely she would trust again?
He didn’t want to fall for her, then lose her.
But he couldn’t help thinking…hoping…that maybe she was afraid, too. Afraid of yet another rejection in her life.
So it came down to Sam.
Did he want to take a chance on her, if she was willing to take a chance on him?
He took a deep breath, then sighed. His chest ached, and there was a knot in his stomach. He had this innate need to protect, and if ever there was a woman who needed to know she was safe—that she was loved—it was Katie.
He turned off the lamp beside his bed, turned off the TV, and slid down into his bed.
To hell with wrinkled clothes.
He was too tired to care about them.
All he wanted to do was sleep.
***
Mark Roman was going home—to Kansas. His family knew everything. He’d talked to them for hours. And after all was said and done, instead of blaming or judging, they just told him to come home. It was all he needed to hear. They’d given him permission to fail.
The house he’d shared with Megan had been stained by lies, drugs, and death. He’d already contacted a Realtor to put it on the market. He didn’t want to live there anymore and was spending his nights in a downtown hotel.
His lawyer was running interference for him with the legalities that had arisen after Megan’s and Walt’s demise. Everyone was lauding him as a hero for doing the right thing, but in his mind, he’d caused Megan’s death. Even though none of it would have happened had they not been involved in illegal activities, his spirit was yoked by guilt.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, learning he was inheriting anything from the Laniers felt like blood money, and he wanted no part of it.
He drank himself to sleep every night, with the nightmare running in a loop in his head.
If he hadn’t turned Megan in, she would still be alive.
And if Megan was still alive, Walt wouldn’t have run away and wound up dead.
And if neither of those things had happened, then Mark would never have known Craig Buttoni existed.
But he had, and they did. And his sense of decency had brought down the house.
He wanted out of Albuquerque. Where people didn’t associate him with any of it. He didn’t want to be a hero. He didn’t want any aspect of earned money from drugs, and when he sold his house, it would release him from the last thing tying him to this city.
He poured another shot of whiskey into his glass and tossed it back like medicine, then followed the burn all the way to his belly. He was wondering where the hell his food was, because if room service didn’t get here soon, he’d be too damn drunk to eat it.