“Sure.” Sam pulled out the bottles he knew they liked the best, popping the caps. As he watched, Cam remembered that Sam was Mia Devlin’s great uncle.
Interesting.
“I hear you have some new housemates,” Cam said, leaning on the bar.
“Oh yeah, and I heard you had a little problem with my grand nephews.” Sam lifted an eyebrow. “I’ve got my niece and her kids staying with me for a while. Says it’s to look after me, but I’m looking after them. Her asshole husband upped and left them high and dry.”
“He walked out on his kids?” Cam asked. What an asshole.
“Yep. Disappeared and wiped out their bank account. She lost their house and business because of it, so her and the boys moved down here.” Sam grabbed a cloth and rubbed it along the bar. “Good thing he’s hiding out somewhere, because if I ever see him, he’ll get a knuckle sandwich from me.”
Cam bit down a laugh, because Sam didn’t look like he’d win a fight against a fly. But the humor dissolved when he thought about Mia being abandoned.
Not your problem, he told himself. He wasn’t anybody’s white knight. He didn’t have a horse and his armor was rusty.
Yeah, so why did you stop to help her change her tire?
The memory of her leaning over the car rushed into his head again. Soft skin, blonde hair, slender neck. Taking a mouthful of beer, he tried to push the image away.
If he thought he had problems, it sounded like Mia Devlin had more. He wasn’t going to help with them. If he got involved he’d only pile more on. He was here to think about his next move, to make some life decisions. And they didn’t involve an abandoned wife with two kids who liked throwing footballs at cars.
Sliding a couple of bills over to Sam, he told him to keep the change, then walked back to the table with the beers.
And he didn’t wonder how her job interview went, or whether she was grateful for the fact he’d gotten her tire replaced. Nope, not at all.
“Next round is whiskey,” he told his brothers as he passed them the bottles. “Somebody has to get this party started.”
Chapter Seven
“I don’t see why we have to go to church,” Michael said on Sunday morning, wrinkling his nose as they walked up the steps. “We didn’t go every week in Kansas City.”
“We went at least twice a month,” Mia pointed out, as they walked through the open double doors and onto the parquet floor. The church was almost full, and the sound of conversations and laughter momentarily stopped her from walking. She hated being the new people in town as much as Michael did, but unlike him, she was trying to hide it. “Anyway, it’s the best way to get to know people. Sam said most people around here go to church.”
“Sam hasn’t come,” Michael muttered.
“Yeah, why isn’t he here?” Josh asked. “If everybody comes?”
“He worked late last night, remember?” Mia pointed to a half empty pew, and Michael sat, sliding down to make space for his mom and brother. “He needs some rest. And we can thank God on his behalf.”
“We don’t have anything to be thankful for.”
She lifted an eyebrow at her older son. “How about having a roof over our heads? A good week at school? You got on the football team.” She let out a mouthful of air, because being so damn positive all the time was exhausting.
“And Mom got a job. That’s good, too, right?” Josh beamed at them.
“Good if you never want to go back to Kansas City,” Michael muttered, taking the hymn book from the shelf on the back of the pew in front of them, and flicking through it. He’d been like this since she’d gotten the call from the distillery offering her the job. She’d taken it, of course. But rather than be happy for her, Michael had rolled his eyes when she’d made his favorite meal to celebrate – chicken pot pies with mashed potatoes.
She knew it was making it all real for him. That even though he’d gone out for football trials, he was still hoping he’d be back at his old school with his friends and team. But she was damned if she’d let that spoil her happiness, because getting this job was a good thing.
The service passed quickly, thanks to an entertaining sermon from Reverend Maitland, who made everybody – even Michael – laugh. When they’d asked for the children to come to the front for a song, Josh had happily gone forward, singing so loud Mia could swear she heard him at the back. He was settling in nicely. He’d already been over to a new friend’s house to play that weekend. And from the way he was talking to two of the kids as they walked back to their seats, he’d made a few more.
It was so much easier being eight than fourteen. She wished Michael had found life as simple as Josh did.
As they followed the crowd of worshippers, shaking Reverend Maitland’s hand as they left, Mia’s gaze landed on the one person she was trying not to think about.
Cam Hartson was standing on the lawn at the front of the church, talking to a woman who was holding a baby. He was dressed up, wearing a sharp suit and shirt, and his hair was styled differently. Maybe that was why she didn’t feel the spark she’d gotten before.
She was both relieved and disappointed. Because that spark was the only thing giving her life right now.
“I’ll be right back,” she murmured to the boys.
“Can I go play?” Josh asked, pointing at the town square where other kids his age were congregating.
“Sure. But keep within my eyesight,” Mia agreed. “You want to go, too?” she asked Michael.
“Nope.”
“Okay
