They all sank into their own thoughts for the next few bone-rattling miles. Then the road noticeably improved, and Starr shifted into fourth gear without prompting. Beside her, Kylan began to snuffle, turning his face into the collar of his coat. Starr didn’t say a word, just flipped on the radio and turned the staticky country station loud enough to mask the noise.
If Mary noticed, she gave no indication. She made no movement or sound whatsoever until the pickup bumped from gravel onto pavement. Then she slid her hand from under David’s and straightened. “Pull over, Starr. You shouldn’t try to drive this thing in town.”
Starr pulled over, and she and David swapped places. As he slid behind the wheel, Kylan swiped an arm across his eyes, trying to erase the signs of his tears. David took his cue from the women and pretended he didn’t see. Starr scooted across the seat, wrapped one arm around Mary, and put the other hand on Kylan’s shoulder, forming a tight little nucleus that left David firmly on the outside.
Right where he belonged. So why did he care?
When they passed the old gas station on the main drag, the street people were still huddled in front, half-a-dozen dogs milling around them. By contrast, the casino and adjacent hotel looked surreal, the parking lots an oasis of brightly lit, pristine concrete. David parked next to Starr’s compact Chevy and killed the headlights.
“You need anything tomorrow, let me know,” Starr said with one last squeeze of Mary’s shoulders.
Mary worked up a weary smile. “We’ve got another day of curriculum training at the college, so I won’t be at home.” She tapped Kylan on the shoulder. “Walk her to her car.”
“But it’s right—”
Mary smacked him harder.
“All right. I’m going.” Kylan slouched out of the pickup.
David didn’t pretend not to watch as the kid cowered like a whipped pup while Starr read him what appeared to be the riot act. Then she relented, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing her face close to his. He nodded at whatever she whispered in his ear. She patted his damp cheek and then kissed it for good measure before shoving him away toward his pickup.
“Did you apologize?” Mary asked when Kylan climbed into the passenger’s seat.
“I tried, but she was too busy yelling at me. She said if I ever pull anything this stupid again, she’s done with me.” His eyes filled with tears. He tried to sniff them back. “I din’t know that was where they was going, Mary. And I forgot about your brothers. Honest. I din’t mean to—”
“I know.” That was it. No It’s okay or I’m fine. Her tone suggested that life would be considerably less than okay for Kylan when they got home.
“Should I follow Starr to be sure she gets home safe?” David asked as the girl backed her car out of the parking slot.
“That would be nice.” Mary tilted her head back and closed her eyes, as if the little bit of conversation had worn her out.
David saw Starr safely into her driveway, then circled back to the main drag and pointed the pickup west out of town.
“How come your trailer is parked here?” Kylan asked as they turned into the driveway.
“David and I had dinner. We, uh—”
“Had things to talk about,” David cut in. Geezus. She acted like she was confessing to adultery instead of huckleberry pie.
Kylan grunted. The pickup barely came to a complete halt in front of their house before he was out the door, slamming it behind him.
“Thank you for driving and…everything,” Mary said stiffly, pushing her door open but not getting out. “I, well…it’s good you were there.”
She kept her head down, undoubtedly embarrassed that he’d seen her flashback, or whatever that was she’d had.
“Want me to stay and knock some sense into Kylan for you?” David asked, only half joking. Not that he would ever smack a kid, but looking at Mary’s pale, drawn face, it was hard not to want to give him a good, hard shake.
She laughed, the sound thin and brittle. “Thanks, but no. I can manage.”
“Are you sure?” David unbuckled his seat belt and twisted around to look at her straight on instead of in the mirror. The shadows in her eyes had crept down to darken the circles beneath them. “You look whipped. Maybe you could leave it until morning.”
She shook her head. “We’ll both be better off if we have it out before we go to bed. I won’t be able to sleep for a while anyway. I need to…unwind.”
Chase the demons back into their hidey-holes, she meant. David wanted to say he understood, but of course he didn’t. The worst thing that had ever happened to him was nothing compared to what Mary had been through. And no way in hell was he leaving her and the kid alone out here tonight. What if Kylan took off again?
David turned off the pickup. “I think it’d be best if I stayed.”
“Here?” Her eyes widened.
“In my trailer. Just in case.”
“We don’t need a watchdog.”
“Then humor me. I’ll sleep better if I’m close by.” He flicked off the headlights and stepped out into night air that felt like it had lost twenty degrees since sunset. “Do you mind if I check out your tipi? I’ve never seen the inside of one.”
She shut the pickup door, her brows drawn together as if trying to figure out what weird game he was playing. Finally, she shrugged. “Go ahead. There’s an electric lantern to your right just inside the door.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I’m just going to—” She gestured toward the house.
“Okay.”
Good night seemed stupid, considering, so he said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”
She gave him another of those searching looks, then nodded and turned to walk to her house. Her strides were slower than usual, as if she dreaded the confrontation to come. She paused a beat with her hand on the doorknob, shoulders squaring and chin coming up. Battle mode. David doubted Kylan would appreciate the butt-kicking he was about to receive, even if it was for his own good.
The tipi loomed, ghost-white in the darkness, but David went the other direction first, to check on Muddy. Just a quick peek in the barn, because he still had trouble believing the horse would be there. But he was—square, solid, his eyes slitted with annoyance at the intrusion. In contrast, Frosty nickered softly in welcome and stuck his head over the stall gate in search of the horse treats Adam liked to feed him and insisted David keep on hand.
“No luck tonight, buddy,” David said.
Frosty nuzzled his hand to be sure and then sighed, disappointed. David scratched behind his ear in consolation. He would miss Frosty. The gray might not have Muddy’s talent, but he was a lot better company.
David propped his elbow on the stall gate, combing his fingers through Frosty’s long, silky forelock as he replayed the scene out there on Freezeout Ridge. Christ. No wonder Mary was so prickly and overprotective. She’d watched her brothers die. A person didn’t get over something like that. Then tonight, Kylan had come damn close to repeating history, making all her nightmares come true.
Which begged the obvious question… What would the kid do when David took Muddy?
Somewhere not far away, a coyote howled, setting off an eerie chorus of yips and yowls that hit a crescendo, then faded into silence, leaving only the soft snuffle of horses breathing. David listened to the night breeze sifting through the trees while he probed at his emotions. Seeing what he’d seen, knowing what he now knew about Mary and Kylan, had set him back on his heels, that was for sure. But was it enough to change his mind?
Not about leaving Muddy. That would never be an option. But the reward? How much was his peace of mind worth? A hell of a lot more than five grand. Still, the sour taste gathered at the back of his tongue when he considered paying Mary off. It felt wrong deep down in his gut.
Not unjust, he realized. Not unfair. Wrong.
Wrong answer. Wrong move. The money and a new horse weren’t what Kylan needed. Not in the long run. Or even the short run. Certainty shot through David’s veins, hot and heady as bourbon. He didn’t know the right answer, not yet, but the reward money wasn’t it. He felt it the same way he’d known he couldn’t collect the insurance money for Muddy, no matter what it cost him. Instinct? Or a helping hand from the old boys upstairs?
An idea that had been floating around tried to take root in his head—one that might solve all their problems—but David shook it loose. It was way too risky, especially after what had happened tonight.
David stared at Muddy as if the horse could somehow give him a clue. Muddy rolled his eyes back until the whites gleamed, yawning as if to say, “Are you still here?”
“Yeah, yeah. I can take a hint.” David gave Frosty a final scratch and then double-checked the stall latches before he left.
Not that he was paranoid or anything.