Smith didn’t want to talk about himself and his life. Not yet. “So why did Angela leave the house to Cash and not you?” he asked Reid.
Reid glanced away, and Smith saw Cash dart a concerned look at his younger brother, who answered, “I don’t know. We think maybe it was because she missed Cash’s dad so much, and Cash apparently looks just like him. Allen something.”
Cash snored. “She used to call me her ‘All-in.’ But I think she meant to say Allen. She never saw me at all.”
Smith saw the wounds Cash couldn’t hide, and it confused the hell out of him. Angela had kept them while she’d thrown him away. But even an absent mom had to be better than a bitter, hateful woman who spouted venom with every breath.
He cleared his throat. “The woman who called herself my mother was her sister. Margaret Ramsey raised me as her own.”And she hated me more than anything in this life.
“That would match what she said in the journal we found, where she mentioned Meg a few times.” Reid shared a glance with Cash.
Evan asked, “Did Margaret ever mention Reid or Cash?”
“Meg didn’t tell me she wasn’t my mother until I left the Corps eight months ago.” And he still didn’t know how to feel about the revelation. Relief or sorrow that he couldn’t even claim the one tie he had to family? “She’d mentioned my perfect cousins all my life, but that’s it. I only knew you guys were amazing and could do no wrong.”But she did say that my real mother hadn’t wanted me. She apparently had an ideal family and didn’t need me to ruin things.
“Perfect? That’s a load of crap,” Cash said. “Angela’s perfect family only existed in her mind. None of us mattered. Hell, I moved out at sixteen. I don’t think she ever noticed.”
Reid nodded. “I still wonder if she had some mental illness that was never diagnosed. Her journal is a little off.”
Smith wanted to read it but knew better than to ask.
Cash stood and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You should read it. To see what we’re talking about.”
Reid left and returned with it in hand. “Here.” He handed it to Smith.
Smith didn’t want to touch it, but he took the book. “I’ll get it back to you.”
“Take your time. We’ve read the thing.” Reid grimaced. “It’s… You’ll see.” He paused. “In it she mentioned having a son. Riley.”
Smith blinked. “Riley’s my middle name.”
Cash studied him. “Did you come to us for a job to check out us? ‘Cause no way in hell I’m believing a coincidence brought you to us.”
“Since I’d just left the Corps, I was at loose ends. Seemed a good time to meet you.”
Reid nodded.
Evan watched him a little too intently. “So, what was Meg—your aunt, I guess—like?”
Smith had mistakenly shared a few details with Evan not so long ago, but he’d be damned if he’d share his pathetic life with Reid and Cash. Not now, maybe not ever. At least they’d had each other. He’d had no one. Rage that he’d lived a lie never quite left him, and it reared its head again. “Look, all this catching up was just swell.” They couldn’t miss that sarcasm. “But I have work in the morning. I’ll see you guys later.”
He left, not looking back, and heard Reid tell Cash to let him go.
Yeah. They had each other and Evan for support.
Smith didn’t have anyone. And he told himself he liked it that way. Because what was the point in wishing for something that would never change?
Chapter Three
Eight days after first moving into her new efficiency apartment, Erin continued to wonder about her new part-time employer. She had no idea how a person who looked so sweet could be so cantankerous, ornery, and downright bitchy. And Erin hated the B-word.
“I said I don’t like onions,” Matilda Cartwright, her seventy-nine-year-old employer and landlord, griped for the fifth time that afternoon.
“Yes, I know, Tilly. That’s why I didn’t put onions in the casserole.” As she’d mentioned the previous four times.
Erin had understood Smith’s warnings from the get-go. Her twenty-minute interview with Tilly had warned her the woman would be a challenge. She stood an inch or two shorter than Erin. And if Tilly weighed a hundred pounds, it would be a miracle. Yet she ate as if she was the size of Smith.
Thoughts of Erin’s “savior” had stayed with her throughout the week. Smith Ramsey left a lingering impression. Granted, he’d been bigger than any man she’d ever dated. Harder, stronger. Meaner too. And distant. Since last Wednesday, she’d seen him only in passing even though he lived right next to her.
