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He hated sneaking around, and all he could think about was what Ginger would say if she found out. They’d been getting along well since the mishap with the parole officer, and Nate really didn’t want to mess things up between them.
Good luck, he told himself as he checked out with a tube of six bath bombs. It seemed like everything Nate touched blew up at some point, and he anticipated the same would be true with Ginger. He just didn’t know if it would be sooner or later, and if he’d have his heart intact when all the pieces came crashing down.
* * *
Nate hadhis hand in Ginger’s, their mid-morning stroll down a remote road lined with trees about halfway over, when his phone rang. His heartbeat tripled for a second, and he released Ginger’s hand to pull his phone from his back pocket.
“I don’t think it’ll be…” He cut off when he saw Lawrence’s name on the screen. “It’s my lawyer.” He came to a full stop, because he was used to having conversations with his lawyer in private. Even the prison didn’t listen in on legal calls.
He was just glad he hadn’t said Ted’s name. He still hadn’t brought up the idea of having Ginger request another inmate from River Bay to come to the ranch, though his friend behind bars had called twice more.
Three weeks had passed since that initial phone call and his first meeting with his parole officer. Two and a half since he’d left the envelope of money in the locker at the mall. A few days later, he’d found the empty briefcase leaning against the old post that held up the mailbox at the end of the lane that led to the ranch.
It was as far as Nate could go on the ranch, and he’d been volunteering to get the mail each morning ever since Oscar had texted to say he’d returned the bag. Nate hadn’t breathed properly until the next day, when he’d found the bag. At least Oscar—or more likely, someone low on his totem pole—hadn’t come down to the house.
Nate had called him standing next to that mailbox and told him to never, ever come to the ranch again. Ever.
Oscar had laughed, but Nate wouldn’t back down until he agreed he wouldn’t come again. Next time, he agreed to leave the briefcase in the locker, where Nate would have to retrieve it before he went to the bank.
How he was going to do that, he had no idea. He couldn’t even think of another reason he needed to go to the mall, though his mind ran around the problem morning and night.
“Lawrence,” he said while Ginger turned around and kept walking. He faced away from her, back the way they’d come, the sun already hot today. It was almost June, and Nate had lived in Texas his whole life. It would be hot from now until at least October. Probably November.
“I found Jane,” Lawrence said, never one to mince words. “She’s in Jamaica, and she’s not interested in returning to the United States.”
Nate frowned, because he couldn’t imagine what kind of mother wouldn’t want her child. “She knows Ward is gone, right?”
“She didn’t know, and I had to tell her,” Lawrence said, and he didn’t sound happy about it. Nate wasn’t sure why. The man seemed to thrive on delivering bad news. “She asked where Connor was—but she called him Conway—and I said Ward had named you the legal guardian. She said great.”
“Great?” Nate shook his head, pure disbelief flowing through him. “That can’t be true. Shehatedme. And secondly, she knows I went to prison.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Lawrence said. “I asked her if she planned to try to get custody of Connor, and she said no. She had no interest in coming back to the US, and she hoped you’d take good care of Connor, because Ward would want that.”
Nate struggled to make sense of everything his lawyer had said. In the end, he said, “All right. Thanks, Lawrence.”
“Sure thing. Hey, how are things on the ranch?”
Nate turned around again and found Ginger down the road about a hundred yards, perched on a tree stump and looking his way. “Great,” he said. He still hadn’t kissed her, and he wondered what he was waiting for. They seemed to find plenty of time to be alone, without the chance of interruption. She sure seemed to like him, and he definitely liked her. In his mind, though, a barrier existed, and he needed to find a way past it before he could lean toward her and hope he didn’t crash and burn.
Nate had lived so much of the past six years on hope alone, and he knew it could sustain a man as easily as it could consume him whole.
“Really great?” Lawrence asked. “Or is this one of those times where you tell me everything is great, but you’ve just gotten beat up by the punk kid who still has a chip on his shoulder?”
Nate chuckled, the laughter just right there beneath his tongue. It had never come that fast before, and Nate sure did like the appearance of it. “No, this isn’t like that,” he said. “It’s really great here. I’m figuring things out slowly, and I actually like the reentry program.”
“Good,” Lawrence said with plenty of surprise in his voice too. “You were skeptical.”
“That I was.” He started walking toward Ginger. “But I actually like the cowboy hat, and working with the horses, and I don’t know. There’s something soothing about this place.”
“I’m glad,” Lawrence said. “Your paperwork was sorted. Will you let Ginger know?”
“Sure,” Nate said. “I should see her later.” Hey, a minute or two was later, wasn’t it? He grinned as he kept walking toward her, the cowboy boots he’d thought he’d never get used to now the most comfortable shoes he’d ever worn.
“Thanks. Well, I hope we don’t have to talk a ton in the future.”
“You’ll take care of all the actual release stuff, though, right?” Nate asked, a moment of trepidation overcoming him.
“Absolutely,” Lawrence said. “But that’s four months from now. We’ll talk then.”
