“I figured . . . It isn’t James.”
Casey shook his head. “Doubtful. Not unless he’s a peeping tom as well as an arms dealer. C’mon, let’s get back where it’s warm.” He shut the door and they returned to the den. The fire had cooled to a pink glow and Casey fed the hearth a couple fat logs while Abilene settled once more on the couch. She kept the baby in her lap, feeling uneasy.
“I hope no one got hurt . . . I wonder what on earth it could be about.” Not her, she prayed, though it seemed unlikely.
Casey sat on the end of the couch, facing her, hugging his knees. “Maybe a thief. Times are tough, and there’s plenty of expensive equipment here. Or maybe some creep with designs on one of the girls.”
“‘Creep’ is an understatement, if they came armed.”
“True enough.” His gaze softened, settling on the baby.
“I feel like we should be doing something.” She bounced Mercy, more to soothe her own nerves than to calm the baby’s. There hadn’t been any more shots, at least. That was something.
“We stay put, keep the baby safe,” he said. “Fill Christine in if she comes down. Fingers crossed she managed to sleep through it.”
At that, they both fell quiet for a minute or more, the crackle of the fire dominating the still room. Her heart slowed a little, as moments passed with no further shots.
“That phone call you got earlier,” she said gently, wanting a distraction. “Was it what you’d thought it was?”
“Yeah. I’ve got a follow-up conversation tomorrow; then after that, it should be all cleared up.”
She pursed her lips, then spoke the truth. “I wish you’d tell me what it was about.”
Casey sighed, shoulders rising and falling. “I will, once it’s all settled. Right now . . . Whatever comes of it, it’s going to change things for me. Majorly. I’ll tell you once I know if they’re going to change for the better or the worse, but before then, I think I’ll keep the worrying to myself.”
“I’m worried all the same. You make it sound like you’re waiting on a cancer diagnosis.”
His smile was weak and he didn’t meet her eyes, and that only made her fret more. It was crazy how attached she’d grown to this man since last summer, and then in earnest, just this past week. Not dependent, for a change—not attached out of survival, as she’d become with way too many guys. Rather, emotionally tied up.
It was a strange space to be in with a man, caught in the no-man’s-land between friends and lovers. Serious lovers. If it weren’t for the baby, all she’d need was some minuscule sign that this could be real, and she’d be head over heels for him at the snap of his fingers. In it deep and fast and reckless, as she hadn’t been since she’d been fifteen, and mixed up with her very first love. She hadn’t fallen for James this way, nor any of the other men between her first love and Casey. Those in-between guys . . . she’d needed them too badly to fall.
Real, giddy love required surrender and trust and a touch of wonder, and such things were luxuries she hadn’t been able to afford during her toughest years. Now, though . . .
Even amid the recent drama and the upheaval of new motherhood, even unsure how she’d make ends meet or where she’d live, her heart felt treacherously ready to tumble for this man.
They’d both spaced out, and the sound of the front door opening made Abilene jump. Miah appeared shortly. He looked tired and annoyed. Footsteps followed and his dad stalked through the den, heading toward the office with his phone in his hand, looking too cross for chitchat.
“No luck?” Casey asked Miah.
He shook his head. “Nothing. Jason chased him, but the guy was armed.”
Abilene’s hand flew to her lips.
“Jason’s fine—they were sky shots, he thinks, but he quit following all the same. Said he heard a vehicle start up down the road and take off due west, but that’s about it.”