I've always wanted to be a dad. Stupid fucking dream for a man like me, someone who's terrified he'll turn into his piece of shit father. Someone who still wakes up screaming from nightmares about combat, about watching his best friend die, about the sound of his mother crying while his father's fists connected with her face.
Better to be alone than risk hurting someone I love.
The woman pays her bill and gathers the kid back into her arms. I watch her leave through the window, my hands tight around my beer bottle as she buckles the toddler into a car seat that's seen better days.
The Honda Civic looks like it might not make it another hundred miles. Rust spots on the doors. A cracked taillight. Everything about this woman screams trouble, screams complications, screams exactly what I should stay away from.
"You worried about her?"
Murphy's voice makes me turn. The old man is standing at my table, wiping his hands on his perpetually greasy apron, his weathered face creased with concern.
"No." The lie tastes bitter. "I'm not worried about her."
Murphy raises an eyebrow. "But?"
"But I'm worried about the kid. What kind of mother is driving around this late with a toddler? Where the hell are they going?"
"Betty's motel is closed for the night," Murphy says quietly. "Told her that. Girl looked like she was about to sleep in her car."
Fuck. "You think she will?"
"Seems like the type who does what she has to." Murphy shrugs. "Seems like she's been doing it for a while."
I drain the rest of my beer, my jaw clenching. A woman and a toddler sleeping in a beat-up Honda in the middle of Montana in late fall. The temperature's already dropping. It's not freezing yet, but it's close enough that a kid could get sick.
"You should follow her," Murphy says casually, like he's suggesting I try the pie. "Just check where she's sleeping. Maybe offer her a place to stay."
"At the ranch?" My voice comes out harsh. "You want me to invite a complete stranger to the ranch?"
"You got room, don't you?" Murphy leans against the booth, studying me with those knowing eyes that see too damn much.
"Wade and Sierra are gone for the week," I admit. "Romantic getaway or whatever Wade called it. Just a way for him to get out of work if you ask me." I take another pull from my beer.
"There you go." Murphy grins. "Perfect solution."
He's right. Wade and Sierra left this morning for some cabin in the mountains. A week of privacy, Wade said, though we all know it's really a week of fucking without worrying about thin walls and brothers who can hear everything. Their cottage is sitting empty, fully stocked, wasted.
"The others wouldn't—"
"The others would understand," Murphy interrupts. "You're all good men. Frank raised you right. You see someone who needs help, you help them. Especially when there's a kid involved."
Frank would've already been out there, already offering the woman a place to stay, a hot meal, whatever she needed. Frank never turned away anyone who needed help.
That's why he took in six fucked-up boys over the years. Why he gave us all a home when nobody else wanted us.
"Fuck." I stand up, throwing cash on the table. "If this goes sideways—"
"It won't." Murphy's grin widens. "You're a good man, Mason Reid. Even if you don't believe it yourself."
I grunt something that might be agreement and head for the door. My truck is parked next to the building, and I climb in, starting the engine and pulling out onto Main Street. The Honda is easy to spot, only other car moving through town at this hour.
I hang back, keeping my distance. The last thing I want is to scare her by obviously following. She drives slowly, like she's looking for something. Pulls into a park, then backs out. Checks the grocery store parking lot, sees the no overnight parking sign.
Finally, she settles behind the closed general store. Well-lit from the streetlamp but tucked away. Good sightlines.
I park on the street, far enough away that my truck isn't obviously watching but close enough that I can see the Honda clearly. Through the windows, I watch her climb into the backseat with the kid. See her arranging blankets and pillows.
She's really going to sleep in her fucking car with a toddler.
