After collecting the mail from the mailbox, Beck produced a key and opened the front door. The moment Riley stepped inside she began to cough. Now she knew why they weren’t staying here: The lingering reek of cigarette smoke coated your throat with every breath.

  “Better than it used to be. She quit smokin’ over a year ago,” he said.

  As Riley inched farther into the front room, Beck tried to see it through her eyes: a worn couch, a matching chair, an end table. The floors were wood with an occasional throw rug and an old television sat on a stand in the corner. There were pictures on the wall, but they weren’t of family.

  This was Sadie’s self-imposed exile. If she’d been decent to him, he’d have come to see her more often. Family meant everything to him. Even when they hate you.

  Beck glared at the couch. That damned plaid thing was still there, mocking him. He could remember Sadie sprawled on it during her many drunken stupors and most of the time she hadn’t been alone. He made a mental note to burn the thing the moment she was gone.

  He pulled his eyes away from it and scanned the rest of the room. Nothing much had changed though the ashtray was empty, full of candy wrappers now. Maybe if he’d cut off the money for the smokes sooner she wouldn’t be dying.

  When Sadie was younger and owned a car she’d spent her time at one of the bars in St. Marys or down in Florida. Sadlersville didn’t have any watering holes, but that hadn’t kept her from being a full-time alcoholic.

  There was a deep frown on Riley’s face now, telling him she didn’t like what she was seeing. Damn, why didn’t you stay in Atlanta? He felt naked, like he’d stripped off all his clothes and she was seeing every one of his flaws.

  “You lived here as a kid?” she asked, her voice quavering.

  “Yeah. My granddaddy bought the house for Sadie when she got pregnant with me. I think he hoped she’d settle down, get married. Stop drinkin’.” He shook his head. “Just wishful thinkin’.”

  Riley paused to peer into the run-down kitchen and then moved into the hallway toward the two bedrooms. She halted at the second one.

  “Was this your room?”

  He nodded. At least when he was older and someone finally gave him a bed. When he was a kid he’d sleep on the bathroom floor, on top of the dirty clothes, because it was the warmest room in the house. But Riley didn’t need to know that.

  “I had a Chris Hemsworth poster too,” she said, smiling in recognition. “He made a totally hot Norse god.”

  Beck mumbled his agreement. He’d left the poster behind when he’d gone up north. He could have taken it with him, but there hadn’t been time to pack much. For some reason Sadie had never pulled it down.

  “I thought he was kinda cool,” he said. Maybe it was because the guy was strong, good looking, in control of his life—everything Beck had always wanted to be.

  Riley returned to the kitchen, took off her jacket, and laid it across a chair. When she checked out the sink, she grimaced at what she found.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “Not your fault,” she replied and turned on the water. “What are you going to do with the house once . . . ”

  “Sell it, I guess, once I get it cleaned out.”

  “I’ll help you,” she said, then began moving dirty dishes out of the sink onto the counter.

  “Riley, I . . . ”

  She turned toward him, her hands dripping. “It’s not that bad, Beck. A little messy, but not horrible. It’s just so sad, you know?”

  He knew what she meant, and it had little to do with dishes. The place had never been full of love like her family’s house. Even after Riley’s mom had died, her dad had made sure their tiny apartment was a home. Beck had no idea what that was like. Once he knew Sadie didn’t care about him, he’d made his own life, separate from hers. He never stepped away completely—he couldn’t do that—but tried to insulate himself from her as much as possible. She always found ways to hurt him.

  He scooped up a pile of mail off the couch, took it to the kitchen table and dropped them next to the other letters. He’d like to think it was because that was the best place for the sorting job, but in truth it had something to do with being closer to Riley.

  Laying his jacket over the top of hers, he pulled out a chair and sank into it. As she placed the clean dishes on a towel on the countertop, she hummed to herself. The song sounded like one of Carrie Underwood’s tunes and he couldn’t help but smile.

  Out of habit he studied each envelope hoping that one might be the one. He’d always dreamed of getting a letter from his father, and when he was a kid he ran to the mailbox every day as soon as the mailman came by. He was never sure if Sadie would burn any message from that source, so he hadn’t taken the chance. That letter never came, at least not while he had lived in Sadlersville.

  Beck silently cursed himself. He should have given up that fantasy years ago, but here he was, still scanning the envelopes like he had when he was a kid and could barely reach the mailbox.

  Looking up he found Riley scrubbing the counters. She was attacking the task with a vengeance, probably her way of burning off her disgust at the woman in the hospital. By the time he’d finished with the mail he realized Sadie was overdue on a few of the bills, including the one for the phone. In fact, it’d been disconnected, which told him the money he’d been sending her hadn’t been going to the right places.

  Another hassle.

  Riley was washing one of the cupboard doors now, up on her tiptoes. For a second he forgot his problems and settled back to admire the view. She really was a fine young woman. It was going to be the worst day of his life when she turned her back on him and walked away.

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  An hour later the kitchen was tidy, except for the floor and the stove.

  “Make sure I got these in the right piles, okay?” Beck said, pointing to the mail on the table.

  Riley checked through them, her fingertips wrinkled from the water. The tattoos on her palms were stark in their simplicity—black against pale flesh. She saw him staring at them.

  “You got them right,” she said, handing over envelopes.

  “Good. I’ve been payin’ them for some time so I can usually recognize them.”

  “Why would you pay her bills?”

  He blinked at the question. “Why not?”

  “Because she hates you?” Riley ventured.

  “Don’t matter. She’s family. Ya’d do the same.”

  Riley opened her mouth to argue and then shut it again. He was right—if her aunt Esther needed help, she would be there even though she couldn’t stand the woman.

  “I’ll go back to the hospital tonight, check on her,” Beck said. “She won’t stand me bein’ there too long, but at least I can see her for a time.”

  “Do you want me—”

  “No. I’d rather ya stay in the truck. Yer not used to her like I am.”

  “Okay.” At least for tonight. Eventually she’d have to confront the woman again and she’d want to be ready for whatever came out of Sadie’s mouth. Beck’s mom had worked her over once. The next time it wasn’t going down like that, even if the woman was terminally ill.

  Riley yawned, then apologized.

  “Yeah, let’s call it a day,” Beck said. “We’ll start sortin’ through the rest of this stuff tomorrow.”

  “Does she know you’re doin’ this?”

  “I’ll tell her tonight. That’s another reason I don’t want ya there. She’s not gonna be happy with this.”

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  As Beck walked toward the hospital’s main entrance, Riley fired up her phone, pleased there was decent service. In fact, she had more bars than in some places in Atlanta.

  “Hey, Riley, how is nowhere land?” Peter called out.

  “Bizarre, but I had the best hamburger evah at lunch today.”

  “Really? What’s it like down there?”

  “It’s a tiny version of Atlanta with a lot more y’alls. What’s weird is that everybody knows everybody and what they’re doing. Not like at home. Oh, and most of the town doesn’t like Beck because, well, they just don’t.”

  “Sounds like a blast. What are you two doing tonight?”

  “Beck’s visiting his mom right now. He’ll be tired by the time he gets out of there. We’ll probably find food and catch some TV.”

  “Demonland is on at eight. You don’t want to miss that.”

  “There’s so much wrong with that show I don’t know where to start.”

  “Then don’t,” Peter said. “Leave my delusions intact, okay? How are you and Beck doing?”

  “One minute he seems pleased I’m here and then the next he’s being an asshat. I’m cutting him some slack because of his mom—who is a real piece of work, by the way—but one of these times I’m going to go medieval on him.”

  Peter’s chuckle echoed down the phone. “Well, you’re missing some epic weirdness up here. Some reverend has announced he’s going to exorcise every single demon in Atlanta, all at the same time. Can you believe that?”

  “I saw that in the paper. All he’s going to do is piss them off and guess who will have to clean up that mess?” Me and the other trappers.

  A figure emerged from the hospital entrance moving at a brisk pace. “Ah, here comes Beck. He’s not looking good. I’d better go.”

  “Hang in there, Riley. Call when you need to vent. Or if you need bail.”

  She laughed. “I will. Talk to you later.”

  Beck climbed into the truck, slammed the door, and jammed the keys into the ignition. Then he banged his fist against the wheel. Once, twice, three times.

  Riley held her breath.

  “Why do I even bother with her?” he growled.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Hell, no.”

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  Once back at the motel, Riley followed him into his room, hoping that he might want to talk if given the opportunity. Beck dropped his backpack on the first bed and began stripping off his clothes like he’d forgotten she was there. Right before his jeans came off, she cleared her throat and that pulled him up short. He retrieved clean clothes out of the bureau drawer and headed for the bathroom. The door shut, then the shower came on.

  Realizing that a conversation wasn’t on the menu, Riley retreated to her room. She needed a shower as well. It was as if some thick choking tar had coated her skin since she’d met his mother and the house hadn’t helped either.

  What would it be like to live with her? It was a sure bet that nothing anyone did would meet with Sadie’s approval. Maybe that was what had sparked her father’s interest—the fact the young man had never had a chance. Now her dad had left Beck in her care, though Backwoods Boy thought it was the other way around.

  I promise, Dad, I won’t let him fail, no matter what.

  To her relief, the shower had decent water pressure. After she’d dressed, she sat on her bed and toweled her hair dry.

  Beck peered in at her. “We can go for pizza if you want.” He was back to using proper English so he was feeling better.

  “That works. I’m really hungry.”

  “I’ll order it ahead so it’s waitin’ for us. Anythin’ you hate?”

  “Green peppers,” she said. “They’re totally vile.”

  He dug on the nightstand for the card with the local pizza place’s number and punched it into his cell phone. Then hung up. To her surprise he brought the information to her.

  “Better if you order it,” he said. “Make it to go with yer name on the order.”

  She wanted to ask why, but his expression did not invite questions. Using her own phone she called the restaurant and put in the order, along with a request for a six-pack of soda.

  “Thanks,” he said, then stepped outside to make a call, as if he didn’t want her to hear what he said. It was another I don’t entirely trust you moment and her patience was wearing thin.

  “You are so jonesing for it, dude,” she muttered.

  Riley should have seen it coming because Beck gave her the money and sent her into the restaurant to get the order. After settling the bill, she gathered up the pizza and the plastic bag that held the soda. As the restaurant’s owner pushed open the door to help her out of the store, he spied Beck’s truck.

  “Hell, if I had known it was for that bastard I’d have never taken the order.”

  She glared up at him. “Why?”

  “Ask him. Maybe he’ll tell you where they are.”

  “They who?” The door banged shut behind her.

  Why won’t anyone say what’s going on?

  SEVEN

  Riley shifted the hot pizza box on her lap, the smell driving her crazy. Maybe after they ate she could quiz Beck about what the restaurant guy had meant.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Somewhere near the swamp.”

  Exactly where Cole had told her not to go with Backwoods Boy. He didn’t choose a picnic spot, but a road out in the middle of nowhere. If this hadn’t been Beck, she’d have been way nervous.

  “Where are we?”

  “We’re south of town on one of the roads near the federal park land. Okefenokee’s over that way,” he said, pointing west toward the setting sun.

  “Why here?” she said, unbuckling her seat belt.

  “Because it’s not in town,” he said. “I’ve had enough of people starin’ at me for one day.”

  Riley could relate. She opened the door and then peered down at white sand. That was different. Trusting he knew what he was doing, she waited for him to pull a blanket from behind the seat and then followed him to the back of the truck. There he fixed up a little place for them to eat on the tailgate.

  “Sort of like a picnic,” she said, trying to make the most of it.

  “Yeah,” he replied, but she could tell his heart wasn’t in it.

  She crawled up on the gate and then eagerly opened the box. Her mouth watered instantly. She scooped up a couple of napkins, a thick slice of pizza, and leaned back against the closed topper. Beck did the same. While she chewed, Riley checked out the scenery around them. Tall pine trees stood in the distance and in all directions were these strange plants with spiky leaves. They were about three or four feet off the ground, curiously uniform in height.

  “What are those?” she asked, pointing with her free hand. “They look like baby palm trees or something.”

  “They’re saw palmetto. They’re all over this part of the country.”

  “Why are they all the same size?”

  “Must have had a fire, burnt them all down. Now they’re growin’ back.” A half smile filled his face. “When I was eleven Donovan started taking me out into the swamp. He said it was high time I learned how to survive on my own since it was clear even to a blind man Sadie wasn’t goin’ to take care of me.”

  “What did you guys do?”

  “We’d take off for a weekend and camp, just the two of us. He taught me how to not get eaten by the gators, how to catch a snake, skin it, and cook it. Taught me all sorts of stuff. I really liked spendin’ time with him. He didn’t judge me like everyone else.”

  “That’s cool.”

  “Oh, and I won a fishing contest once. I caught a bowfin, a real big one. Donovan took a picture of it. I got thirty dollars’ prize money.”

  “What did you spend it on?”

  “Boots. A real nice pair. Never had any decent ones like that before.”

  “So, there was some good in your life.” Most of it seemed to be connected with the sheriff.

  “Doesn’t balance out the bad, though.”

  Riley heard skittering in the brush to her right. “Are there . . . any alligators around here?”

  “Might be, though they’d rather be closer to the water.” Beck grinned. “Yer such a city girl.”

  “Sure am,” she retorted, defiant. “I like buildings and pavement. I like stuff that I can understand. This”—she did a sweep of her hand—“is pretty, but I feel out of place here.”

  “I like the country,” he said, softer now. “It’s quiet and I can think. The city jams up my mind sometimes.”

  She popped open a can of soda and took a long drink. “So now that your mind is unjammed, tell me about Cole.”

  Instant frown. “Why do you want to know about him?”

  Riley couldn’t resist. “Because he’s totally hot and I want to run off with him and have his babies.”

  Beck’s eyes widened in surprise. “Riley—”

  “Look at you!” she said, playfully slapping his arm. “You’re easy to set off.”

  The frown didn’t retreat, but she could tell she’d made her point.

  “You don’t know him like I do,” he replied.

  “Well, now is the time to fix that. Tell me why you can’t stand him.”

  He huffed. “When I was in high school, I dated a girl named Louisa. Lou and I were real tight. Cole made sure to break us up. He dated her for a few weeks then dumped her, his way of sayin’ he could steal away any girl I cared for.”

  “Okay, so Cole is a total scumbag. I can go there. But that’s a long time ago, Beck. You’re still carrying a grudge?”

  “Yeah, I am,” he admitted. “Lou was special, and she was the only good thing in my life at that point. Now he’s eyein’ you and I don’t like that one bit.”

  Yup, he’s jealous. “Did you have any other girlfriends?”