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“I’m not sure you can.”
“The sheriff kicked him out of their place,” Michael said. “Won’t let Josiah in to get his stuff.”
Elmer scowled. “That ain’t right on any level. You late with rent or something?”
“No.” Josiah couldn’t make himself repeat the hurtful things Seamus had hurled in his direction. “I never had an official lease with Seamus. Sheriff McBride. Legally, he can kick me out whenever he wants, and I guess he wanted to tonight. I didn’t do anything, I swear.”
“I believe you,” Michael replied. “But there’s gotta be some law that lets you get your stuff from that house, lease or not.”
“I don’t know.” He put his palms on the back of the sofa for balance, a little woozy from lack of food or water for the last few hours. “I’m so sorry to bring this to you guys, because I’m just an employee, but this was the first place I could think of that was safe. I’ve been here for two years but still don’t know many people.”
“This is a safe place. What do you need right now? Water? Soda? Whiskey? A sandwich?”
Josiah’s lips twitched, wanting to smile but he didn’t have the energy. “Juice or something would be great. It’s just... I’ve been homeless before and I swore I never would be again, and now this happens.”
“You aren’t homeless, Josiah.” Michael stood next to him, a solid, supportive presence without getting too far into Josiah’s personal space. “I said earlier you can rent the trailer outside. Not sure when it was aired out last, but it’s a roof and four walls. And we’ll get your stuff.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, hating how close he was to sobbing. Michael went into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a glass of orange juice. Josiah sipped it, grateful for the liquid and time to think things through. Elmer watched him with quiet sympathy, while his sharp eyes seemed to contemplate something. Michael hovered nearby, attentive but not overbearing. The two men made Josiah feel safe in a way he hadn’t in a long time.
“You’re both being so generous,” Josiah said after he’d drunk about half the juice. It helped his roiling stomach calm a bit, but he still craved a real meal. “I don’t want to keep putting you out. I can drive to that motel near Daisy for the night, and maybe we can talk about the trailer tomorrow.”
“You will not,” Elmer said in a tone that dared him to argue. The voice of a stubborn man whose mind was made up. “Tonight you’ll either sleep in the trailer or upstairs in the guest room. No need to waste money on a motel, especially not after this shock.”
“Are you sure?”
“Don’t say anything I’m not sure of. We’ve got the space—you just need to say yes.”
Josiah didn’t have any real pride left to defend by saying no, so he nodded. “Okay. Thank you. I, um, don’t have anything to make a deposit on the trailer rent.”
“Shush, we’ll worry about that tomorrow. Trailer’s got water and electricity. Michael can show you the thermostat so it isn’t too chilly.”
“I appreciate it. Truly.”
Josiah left his juice glass on the side table and followed Michael out of the house. He stopped by his car to grab his few belongings—the bag of snacks and his book—then met Michael by the trailer door. The thing was small but pleasantly cozy. A tad cold but they got the heater going enough to knock the chill off.
“This is more than I expected,” Josiah said after inspecting the tiny bedroom. “But I sincerely appreciate the room. Even if it’s only for a few nights.”
“You’re welcome. I can’t lie and say I know what you’re going through, exactly, but I can sympathize with someone else blowing up your life. Not giving you a choice in the matter. Happened to me a few weeks ago. I wasn’t sure how I’d get through it. So I came home.”
“I don’t have a home to go back to.”
“Okay. But you know what you do have? Friends. Dad and I got your back, Josiah. We’ll get your stuff.”
“How?”
Michael’s mouth twisted into a smile both secretive and sinister. “Doesn’t matter. But we will. Promise.”
Scared and alone and not entirely sure this was a good idea, Josiah decided to believe in Michael’s promise. The older man hadn’t lied to him yet. Hadn’t done anything to make Josiah doubt his word or his intentions. But he’d believed the same things about Seamus once upon a time—a hero swooping in with a place to stay and lots of attention for an affection-starved man.
But Michael wasn’t Seamus. Josiah saw that in Michael’s eyes and smile. Kind eyes and a gentle smile that held no ulterior motive. No malice that would pop up without warning. While Michael did not have his complete trust yet, he did have some. Josiah latched on to that and said, “I believe you.”
“I’m glad. Come inside for breakfast around nine?”
“I can do that. See you in the morning.”
“Yeah. See you then.”
Michael tipped an imaginary hat at him, then left the trailer. Josiah gazed around, a little overwhelmed by everything that had happened in the last few hours. He locked the door, grateful to have even the flimsiest of barriers between himself and other people right now. On the rare occasion Josiah had slept in his “own room” Seamus never let him lock the door. Even if he had tried, Seamus had a key.
