“No,” I said, my brow wrinkling. “Sorry, I think I’m making this into a bigger deal than it needs to be, so let me get to the point.” I gave him a tight smile. “Obviously I didn’t know Hank before his leg was amputated and Seth was killed, so I have no idea what his life used to be like. Did he leave the house much? Did he hang out with friends? He just sits at the house all day long, mostly by himself and…I’m just worried that he’s lonely.”

He leaned his hip against the side of the truck, the tension leaving his face. “He didn’t leave much the last six months or so before the surgery. He was dealing with the sores on his foot and ankle, which made it hard to walk and drive. I’d been spending time with Seth and Hank since Barbara died, but I went out there more in those last few months.”

My chest tightened. While I hadn’t outright made Hank choose between me and Wyatt, he’d chosen anyway. “I took you from him.”

“Hey,” Wyatt said softly, pushing away from the truck and closing the distance between us. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“He chose me over you, and you were the one who’d been there for him for months.”

“That’s not it, Carly. He didn’t approve of the way I was treating you. There’s a difference.” He grimaced. “He didn’t just tell me to stop comin’ round. We had a discussion about it. He knew I was keepin’ things from you, and he told me to come clean. I told him I was protectin’ you, but he insisted that you deserved the truth. It was after the Lula mess that it all came to a head. He said I was hurtin’ you and that I needed to stop comin’ round for a while.”

Hank had given up part of himself to make me happy. While I loved him for it, I hated that I’d put him in that position.

I turned away, running a hand over my head.

“I think you remind him of Barb,” he said softly. “How she was before she started using drugs. She had this sweet, generous spirit. Just like you.”

I knew I should counter that statement somehow, especially since I wasn’t feeling very sweet or generous. It felt like I kept hurting the people I cared about—Marco, Hank, and even Wyatt to some degree.

“But you’re different than her,” he said. “You’re stronger. I think Hank wishes Barb had been more like you.”

I spun around to face him. “You’re sayin’ I’m his substitute daughter.”

“Yeah.”

I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. Being a daughter had never worked out very well for me, and it made me feel Hank’s affection for me wasn’t for me, per se, but for the role I filled.

He studied me with a look of consternation. “That’s a compliment, Carly.”

It sure didn’t feel like one, but I wasn’t here to discuss me. This was about Hank and his happiness.

“I just want Hank to be happy,” I said, “and I’m gone more often than I’m home, which means he spends hours and hours alone. My goal is to restore some of his independence. He should be able to take care of himself and become less dependent on me.”

His body stiffened slightly. “Are you thinkin’ about leaving Drum?”

I propped a hand on my hip. “What makes you ask that?”

“It just seems like you’re paving the way to make your departure.”

“By trying to give Hank his independence? It’s more like I’m the Eugene to his Rapunzel.”

He blinked hard. “What?”

“Obviously you haven’t seen Tangled ten million times,” I said, thinking back to my teaching years. “I’m not leaving Drum”—no, his father had seen to that—“but I think we should encourage him to drive and go places.”

“We?”

“I don’t have foggiest idea of how to make his car more accessible to him, and once it’s properly equipped, he’ll need to learn how to drive it with the new additions.”

“You want me to teach Hank how to drive.” The corners of his lips lifted a little. “Do you have any idea what kind of grief I’ll get when I suggest such a thing?”

“Yeah, I know,” I said with a sigh, “but I’m askin’ you to do it anyway. I’ll be happy to pay for whatever needs to be done to his car—”

He jolted, his back ramrod stiff. “I’m not takin’ your money to help Hank,” he said in disgust.

“I’m sure if the car needs to be altered—”

“I’m not takin’ your money,” he said, less angry this time. “But I will make a trade.”

“What kind of trade?”

“You have dinner with me.”

“Excuse me?” I stared at him in disbelief. “You’re using your friend to try to win me back? If that’s your goal, this is the absolute worst way to go about it.”

“Then make it breakfast or lunch, and it’s not so I can win you back. Hank’s not going to yield unless he thinks you’re comfortable having me around. If he knows we’re spending time together, he’ll welcome me back over and I can hang out with him in the evenings again.” His mouth twisted to the side. “I miss the old fart.”

Dammit. He had a point, although I couldn’t help thinking he also hoped to wear down my defenses. Nearly three months ago, he’d told me he thought we belonged together, and that had been four months after our three-week-long relationship. I suspected he hadn’t suddenly given up on me, especially since I still saw the wistful looks he shot in my direction at the tavern when he thought I wasn’t looking. If I’d learned anything, it was that these Drummonds all played the long game.

“No dinner. I’ll spend an hour with you, although I can’t tell you when. I have to work until closing, and I’ll probably be covering the lunch shift tomorrow since Max fired Molly.” I glanced over at Junior’s empty bay. “Where’s Junior?”

“The baby’s sick, and he’s going to watch her while Ginger works the lunch shift.”

I grimaced. “Seems like Junior makes more than Ginger.”

“You’d be surprised; besides, we didn’t have a car for him to work on this morning.” He paused. “What about breakfast tomorrow?” he asked. “You can come to my place. I’ll make pancakes and this time you can eat them.”

His house was the last place I wanted to go. He was sure to get the wrong idea. I considered suggesting Watson’s Café, but then the town would get the wrong idea. “Come over to Hank’s. You say we’re doing this for his benefit, so it makes more sense for him to see us together rather than hearing about it.” Plus, he could chaperone.

“But I planned to cook for you, not the other way around.”

“Then you can cook for the both of us,” I said. “But you can’t make real bacon. Hank really shouldn’t have it.”

He watched me for several seconds, and I was starting to squirm when he said, “Okay. I’ll be over at seven-thirty. I’d make it later, but I’ll need to be at the shop by nine.”

“That’s fine.” I’d have to leave Marco’s house early, but if Wyatt only stayed until nine, I’d have some time to work on the case before I had to be at the tavern. “When can you start looking at Hank’s car?”