Chapter Twenty-Three
Grady needed a drink.He wasn’t the type to hang out at bars or drown his sorrow with Johnny Walker, but what happened today beat the crap out ofhim.
He was a damn dad. That was thebiggee.
He’d never wanted to be a dad. Hated being tied down. Didn’t need to make his mark on the world or have someone carry on his genes orlegacy.
He had a huge family, willing and eager to do the breeding—fill the world withHarts.
But now that he was a dad. Hot damn! He rather liked thefeeling.
Especially with a littlegirl.
The sweetest, cutest, little spitfire—Jessie. She’d insisted her dog would come back to her, and she wasn’t taking no for ananswer.
When she was reunited with Betsy, the happiness and relief glowing on that little face had Grady’s heart humming inharmony.
He and Linx sure made a perfectchild.
Except she belonged to someone else. She had adoptive parents, a family, and a home that didn’t includehim.
A boulder of pain crushed him as he strode through the swinging wooden slat doors of the Sixty MinersSaloon.
“Look what the dust storm blew in.” Paul leaned on his elbows over the counter. “What are youhaving?”
“Whiskey on therocks.”
“That bad, huh?” Paul jiggled a ball of ice into a rocks glass and poured some no-name bourbon over it. “Heard you put out a fire at yourplace.”
“Kind of hard not to when I was the first one on the scene.” Grady knocked the amber liquid back, burning his throat as the heat spread down his gullet. “Makes me misssmokejumping.”
“Like I said, don’t let me hold you.” Paul’s eyebrows lowered into a darkscowl.
Grady glanced at the bleak surroundings around the mostly empty bar. “This place isn’t hopping. Why are you hidinghere?”
“You know why.” Paul’s eyebrows lowered. “This was the last place Salem called home. She rented a room right upthere.”
He pointed to the ceiling. Like a lot of old-fashioned buildings, living quarters sat above thebusiness.
“So you bought all of it, and you feel at peace? Like her spirit’s restinghere?”
“Sortof.”
“She’s gone. You knowthat.”
“Thanks to you.” Paul’s voice roughened. “You jumped and you made it. Why didn’tshe?”
“Freak change in the wind,” Grady said. “The fire makes its ownweather.”
“Whatever you said to her got her confused.” Paul slammed a fist on the counter. “Why won’t you tellme?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Gradysaid.
“Matters to me. You know, closure and all that. Were you sleeping with her? I mean, like you say, it doesn’t matter now, doesit?”
“I never touched her after she hooked up with you.” Grady took a deep swallow of the whiskey, emptying it. He slapped the rocks glass on the counter. “Anotherone.”
“She was pregnant.” Paul whipped up another rocks glass and filled it. “Was ityours?”
