“That’ll be hard to do if I’m living with him.”
“About that…” He held my gaze. “That’s a bad idea.”
“Why?” I asked, telling myself to listen to him before I jumped to any judgments. I’d just met Hank this morning and he’d been stricken by shock and grief. Maybe he was the devil incarnate and Wyatt was about to warn me. But I doubted it. Sure, Hank had been on the cantankerous side a few times, but I’d seen the sorrow in his eyes. He’d loved that boy with his entire being, and a man who loved that fiercely wasn’t evil.
“Do you really want me to spell it out for you?” he asked, his face hardening.
I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him a saucy glare. “Apparently I do.”
His jaw tightened and he took a step closer, looming over me. “He’s a harmless old man. Leave him alone.”
That wasn’t the response I’d been expecting. Especially after he’d been so kind to me earlier. I’d thought we’d come to an understanding, and it hurt more than it should to find out I was wrong.
“What exactly do you think I’m going to do to him?” I asked, my temper flaring. “We went over this already. I didn’t kill that poor boy. I may be a stranger in town, but that’s no reason to assume I’d kill a child in cold blood.”
He hesitated and said, “No. I know it wasn’t you.”
That fanned the flames of my suspicion. “How do you know it wasn’t me?”
“Because I saw you after he died. You were too upset for it to have been you.”
“You didn’t just show up here at three in the morning for nothing. What exactly do you think I did? What exactly are you accusing me of?” Another question lingered on my lips, unsaid: Did you find my gun?
“I don’t know, Carly,” he said in exasperation. “Don’t you think it’s mighty coincidental that your car was broken into the same night Seth Chalmers was shot in front of your motel room?”
I did. We both knew it likely wasn’t a coincidence, but he thought I’d done something wrong. He didn’t know my only crime was seeing something I shouldn’t have.
“Sometimes there are coincidences, Wyatt, and apparently this is one of them.”
“I’m going to go pick up Hank tomorrow morning,” he said in a grim tone. “I’ll bring him home and get him settled. Then I’ll schedule some of the women in town to drop in on him every few hours to make sure he’s okay. You don’t need to concern yourself with him. I’ll stay over at his house until he gets his service set up.” When he saw my gaping expression, he said, “You’re an outsider, Carly. You don’t belong here, and you definitely don’t need to be stayin’ in his house, stirrin’ up trouble.”
While I was logical enough to realize he wasn’t completely off-base, I wasn’t about to back down. I’d made a promise to Hank, and my arrangement was with him, not Wyatt. Besides, I wanted to look for the evidence Seth had mentioned.
But before I could say anything, Wyatt turned around and strode past a shocked Ruth, who’d returned in time to overhear every ugly word. From the look of him, he thought he’d just laid down the law and there was no reason for rebuttal.
Fuck that.
“I’m going to pick him up, Wyatt Drummond!” I shouted after him. “And I’ll be staying with him too, so you might as well climb off your tiny high horse and deal with it!”
The customers’ chatter came to a dead halt.
Wyatt stopped at the front door and turned back to face me, giving me an expressionless glance, then walked out.
“Ruth,” I said, still staring after him. “I’m gonna need to borrow your car tomorrow morning.”
She was watching him too, and while I’d worked up my temper, Ruth’s glare was full of hate. “I’ll make sure it has a full tank of gas.”
Chapter Fifteen
I had no idea what time Wyatt planned on picking Hank up, but I was up by six and left at the same time Franklin did. Ruth assured me she’d catch a ride to work. I suspected Max himself would pick her up.
Ruth had given me directions, which I’d written down since I didn’t have a GPS to guide me. I’d taken a travel mug of Franklin’s coffee out of desperation but could only force about half of it down. When I walked into Hank’s room, he was sitting upright in bed. His face lit up the moment he saw me, and he sent a smug look to Wyatt, who was sitting in the chair next to the bed, his chin in his hand, his elbow propped on the chair’s arm. He must have beaten me by a few minutes. Had he hoped to check Hank out before I arrived?
“Good morning, Hank,” I said, approaching his bed. “Are you ready to go home today?”
“I can’t get out of here fast enough.” He pressed the nurse’s call button multiple times.
“I told you I’d give you a ride,” Wyatt said insolently, dropping his arm and sitting up straighter.
“And I told you that Carly was comin’ and I’d wait for her.” He pressed the nurse’s button a few more times.
“Yes, Mr. Chalmers?” a nurse asked over the intercom.
“My ride’s here and I want to get the hell out.”
“As I told the equally impatient man in your room, we just had a shift change. You’ll have to wait for us to finish your discharge paperwork.”
“I want to eat lunch in my chair in my own home, so hurry it up,” Hank said.
The nurse didn’t respond.
“I told you I was comin’ to get him,” Wyatt said in a cold tone, directed at me.
“And I promised Hank that I would do it,” I said. “I made a promise, and I don’t break them, Mr. Drummond.”
He raised his eyebrows. “So you’re callin’ me Mr. Drummond now?”
“If you’re going to accuse me of things I haven’t done, then I think formality is appropriate.”
Hank glanced from Wyatt to me and back again. “Did you accuse her of something?” When Wyatt didn’t answer, Hank said, “What do you think she’s gonna do? Rob me?”
“I don’t know,” Wyatt said, his voice a growl of frustration. “And that right there is the problem. None of us really know her.”
Hank’s gaze found mine and he gave me a sad smile. “Oh, but I do, boy.”
Tears filled my eyes, and I reached for his hand and squeezed it. Wyatt was right. Hank barely knew me, and vice versa, but we shared a secret that drew us together in a way that went beyond normal relationships.
Hank dropped my hand and turned to Wyatt. “Carly’s stayin’ with me whether you like it or not, so deal with it or get the hell out.”
Wyatt gave him a defiant glare, yet there was something deferential about it, which caught me by surprise. I’d seen him tell off his brother and stare down hard men at the tavern. But Wyatt was kowtowing to Hank, and I wanted to know why.
A nurse came in a few minutes later, looking exasperated. “I know you’re in a hurry to go home, but we had to get all your paperwork in order, Mr. Chalmers.”
She turned to me and Wyatt. “Which one of you is Mr. Chalmers goin’ home with?”