He and Jake had rambled from the mountains on the west to the coast on the east and the oceans of the south. An old man had told them that the water in the south was eating away at the land, one tide at a time. They’d laughed at both that and the old man’s insistence that there were miles and miles of territory that had simply disappeared.
But later, at night when the stars were winking at him, Sloan remembered the earthquake and how one minute there was dirt under his feet and the next minute the earth split in two.
He’d felt that way when he saw Reese. The earth under his feet fell away. He’d told that to Jake, who’d laughed and said one pretty pussy was as good as another. They’d heard about Reese all the way in the northeast, heard about a camp that was willing to take in anyone so long as they could fight, no matter what kind of baggage they brought to the camp.
Sloan’s baggage was Jake. After the quake, the two boys had become a family. Jake was the risk taker, pushing Sloan beyond his placid existence. And Jake relied on Sloan to be there to pull him back off the edge.
But Sloan hadn’t realized his friend’s madness was escalating, otherwise he never would’ve brought Jake to Foxworth.
Ah, or maybe that was bullshit. Maybe he still would’ve done it. God knew he’d been tired of wandering the free land, constantly looking for a new place to bed down.
After Jake’s death, Reese said she’d needed him—and those words were enough to keep him bound by her side, a guard dog for all eternity.
Was he wrong for wanting more? And what was that night with Rylan all about? There was a lot of Jake in Rylan. A certain irrepressible humor. An infectious recklessness. In fact, if Sloan was honest, he’d say that Rylan had all of Jake’s best traits and none of the darkness.
The only thing he didn’t like about the man was this creeping feeling he had that he was losing Reese to him. But was he really losing her? Or was Rylan the key to winning her?
Fuck, he didn’t know anymore. There weren’t any answers in the cracked tar or the dirt. None in the still air either. Empty-handed, Sloan returned to town in a foul mood.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Bethany greeted him cheerfully when he slid into a booth at the restaurant.
He swallowed back a caustic remark about how she was the only one. “Thanks,” he muttered.
She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “You in a bad mood because you didn’t get to play vigilante?”
Bethany was going to make a great mother. She was already adept at making Sloan feel like a stupid kid. “Just worried,” he replied. Then he forced himself to stretch out his legs and found a ghost of a smile somewhere, which he pasted onto his face.
She rolled her eyes and yelled over her shoulder. “Graham, we’re going to need a cow.”
The grizzled chef stuck his head out of the kitchen window and gave Sloan a chin nod.
“Make it extra chewy,” Bethany called. “Give him something to work on.”
That summoned a more genuine smile from Sloan. “Am I that bad?”
“Your thundercloud of a face is dark enough to blot out the sun,” Bethany confirmed. She straightened with some difficulty and reached over to squeeze his shoulder. “Don’t worry, sweetie. Everyone’s going to come back in one piece.”
He wondered how she could say that when her man had gotten shot in the middle of the town square, not more than a few dozen feet from where she was standing now. But as she turned away, he caught a glimpse of her own darkness. Bethany was putting on the best show she could, but she was clearly terrified.
Sloan felt shame crawl over him. Sticking around Foxworth and protecting people like Bethany and Graham and the kids was a worthy task, and he was an ass for griping about it.
He quickly reached up to squeeze Bethany’s hand before she could walk off. “You’re right. It’s going to be fine.”
Her expression softened again. “Of course it will.” She waddled back to the kitchen a little lighter on her feet.
When she returned a few minutes later, it was with his food. She groaned as she set the plate of burger and potatoes in front of him. The burger was small and the mound of potatoes was huge, but Sloan knew from experience that the starchy vegetable would be spicy and delicious. None of that mattered, though.
“You okay, honey?” He pushed the plate aside and looked up at her in concern.
Bethany placed a hand at the base of her spine and arched as much as her swollen, awkward body would allow. “I’ll be better when this baby’s out of me. You know,” she said, leaning against the booth seat across from him, “Reese told me a while back that in the city they have these machines that tell you what a baby’s sex is before you have it.”
“That sounds like some voodoo magic bullshit.” He grinned. “I can tell you exactly what you’re going to have.”
“Yeah?” she challenged. “What?”
“You’re having a pumpkin.”
“Just one? Because I look big enough to be having an entire field of them.” She rubbed a hand over her huge belly.
“I don’t know about an entire field. Maybe a small patch.”