Barbara finished her wine and began clearing away the plates. Mike pushed back his chair so he could get up and help her, but the moment she disappeared into the kitchen, Larry finally gave him some attention—in the form of a cold stare. “Lucky?” he said through gritted teeth. “Lucky, Mike?”
“Don’t start, Dad,” Mike said. “You don’t really know her.”
“I don’t want to know her. And I can’t believe you’d bother making nice to her, either.”
Josh spoke. “Maybe we should wait a few days to talk about this.”
Larry ignored him. “After everything your mother’s done for you, how could you knowingly hurt her? And start the whole town talking about it, besides?”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, and I certainly wasn’t trying to start a scandal.”
“Excuse me if I find that a little difficult to swallow. You slept with her, didn’t you? What were you thinking? Do you have any idea how many men she’s probably been with?”
Mike felt a muscle twitch in his cheek and couldn’t help the hard edge that entered his voice. “I know exactly how many men she’s been with, Dad. She’s been with one. Me.”
“You don’t really believe that.”
“She’s not what you think,” Josh said.
Larry glared at Josh as malevolently as he’d been glaring at Mike. “Whose side are you on?”
Josh’s eyebrows shot up. He’d never been asked to choose between his parents and his brother before, and Mike didn’t want him to have to choose now. “Stay out of it, Josh.”
“I think we should all let it go,” Josh said. “No one’s perfect. And Lucky told me herself she’s leaving town in a month or two. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“You don’t see anything wrong with what Mike’s done?” Larry said.
Josh scowled. “He cares about her, Dad.”
Larry shook his head in disgust. “You two stand together on absolutely everything. But this is one time you both should’ve stood with us.” With that he tossed his napkin onto the table and stalked out of the room.
As Mike watched him go, he was tempted to follow him and finish the argument. But he knew it wouldn’t make any difference. He hadn’t planned on getting involved with Lucky. He hadn’t planned on caring about her. But Josh was right—he did. And he was sure his father wouldn’t approve.
“What’s wrong?” Barbara asked as she returned for more plates. “Where’s your father?”
One look at the empathy in Josh’s face, and Mike figured it was time to go. “I guess he’s not comfortable with the company I’m keeping,” he said and headed for the door.
MIKE SPOTTED Gabe’s truck outside the Honky Tonk on his way home and decided to stop. He needed a beer and some time to think. After what he’d learned about Gabe’s father, he also felt he should connect with his best friend, make sure Gabe was still okay—as okay as Gabe ever was since the accident.
“How’s it goin’?” Mike asked, approaching the table where his friend sat, nursing a beer.
Gabe gave him a rueful smile. “From the rumors spreading all over town, I’m probably a hell of a lot better than you are.”
“You heard about me and Lucky, then.”
“Everyone’s heard about you and Lucky. You told Orton, for God’s sake. He might wear a uniform, but he’s the biggest gossip in town.”
“I had to tell him.” Mike waved to the bartender, indicated he’d have a beer, too, then sat across from Gabe.
“Why?”
“Because Jon and Smalley were saying crazy things about her.”
“So you rode to the rescue.”
“I told the truth.”
“Too bad you didn’t take my advice and stay away from her.”
“Your advice came a little too late,” Mike said, but he suspected it wouldn’t have made a difference, no matter when Gabe had warned him off. Mike had known from the beginning that he should stay away from Lucky. He just hadn’t been able to do it.
“What do your folks have to say about the situation?” Gabe asked.
“What do you think?”
“I’m sure they’re not happy.”
“My mom’s in denial. My dad’s mad as hell.”
“What about Josh?”
“Josh is playing the middle man.”
“And Lucky?”
Mike scrubbed a hand over his face. He’d told her he’d call as soon as he found his mother, but he couldn’t do it from his parents’ house. The situation had been too volatile, too tense. Excusing himself to give her a call would’ve been like tossing a match into a puddle of gasoline.
He could call her now, he supposed, but he didn’t want to feel the craving he felt every time he heard her voice. He couldn’t go from his father’s accusing words—After everything your mother’s done for you, how could you knowingly hurt her?—straight into Lucky’s arms.
“None of this is fair to Lucky,” he said.
Gabe took another drink of his beer. “My mom actually likes her.”
Mike chuckled. “Your mom likes everybody.”
“She said you and Lucky came by earlier. What was that all about?”
“I met someone from Pocatello who might be willing to make a campaign contribution,” Mike said, spinning the lie as quickly as possible, then hiding his face in his beer.
“You think he might be a heavy hitter?”
Someone played “Long Black Train” on the jukebox, and Mike felt as though he’d gotten on a long black train to somewhere. He just didn’t know where. “Sounds like it. I guess we’ll see,” he said. “What are you doing in town so late, anyway?”
Gabe toyed with the matches in the ashtray, turning them over and over between fingers callused from maneuvering his wheelchair. “Trying to decide whether or not to go home.”
“Why wouldn’t you?” Mike asked. “You love that lonesome cabin.”
“I don’t know.” Gabe sighed. “Something’s going on with my dad. It’s driving me crazy. He hasn’t been himself for a couple of weeks now.”
Mike tried not to fidget uncomfortably. “What does he say when you ask him?”
“He says he’s fine. But then he adds little comments he doesn’t typically make.”