Crushing guilt ate at Deke like a festering wound destroying his flesh one cell at a time.

He couldn’t do anything by half measures. Instead of a straight-on frontal attack by his conscience for having broken his promise so easily, so fucking quickly, he also got slammed from behind for enjoying his fall.

Disentangling himself from Evie before dawn had been the hardest act of his life. At some point during the night, she’d lost her T-shirt and shorts. Having all that sweet, trusting warmth cuddled against him had been worth the sharp, burning ache in his injured shoulder.

For nearly an hour, he’d lain awake, listening to the rain and fighting an almost overpowering need to sink balls deep into her. He’d grown so hard and heavy that he hurt from lack of release.

Ripping away from her, he’d thrown on his clothes from the day before and left his beautiful temptation naked and untouched. The long walk in the rain had helped, but it hadn’t taken the edge off. He was afraid only one person could right him again.

He slid a pen beneath the metal clamp of the clipboard, waiting for more patients to arrive. He’d been using pockets of downtime to check in with Keone. So far, he hadn’t gathered much intelligence to convey to his second-in-command. The boy with the bear claw had been his most significant discovery, which wasn’t all that impressive.

Two cars crept into the parking lot followed by a pickup with a rusted-out fender. Deke hovered near the Med Mobile, waiting to see who would reach him first.

An older woman with a head full of gray hair that grazed her shoulders, rail-thin body that disappeared in profile, and razor-sharp backbone that had the stamp of military exited an ancient Oldsmobile. The Taurus next to her swarmed with a disconcerting amount of small bodies and high-pitched screams.

The pickup backed into a stall, away from the other vehicles, a masculine silhouette its only occupant. Deke waited for the driver to emerge. He didn’t. A plume of smoke crawled out the window and dissipated in the breeze.

The image reminded him of similar sighting at Haden’s Hollow. Now that he thought about it, the bearded man hadn’t approached the Med Mobile then either. Had he dropped someone off and waited in the truck? Had he been killing time? Waiting for a friend? Or had he been observing someone? Him?

Setting the clipboards down, he started for the truck. He got to within twenty feet of his quarry before the truck’s engine roared to life and the guy sped away.

“What’d you want with Frank Cleamer?” the old woman asked when Deke returned.

Deke filed the name away. “Thought he might be shy about coming up to the Med Mobile.”

She snorted. “That boy doesn’t have a shy bone in that skinny little body.”

He refrained from giving her toothpick-frame a once-over. “Why’d he take off?”

“You storming across the lot probably spooked him.”

“I’m not that scary.”

“Bobby, watch for cars! Willie, stop trying to trip your little brother.”

The family from the Taurus had spilled into the lot and the hive had dispersed in all directions. Deke tore his gaze away from the harassed mother back to the gray-haired spitfire who was eyeing him from head to toe.

“You could be one of those comic book characters what’s on TV nowadays.”

“The good guys aren’t scary.”

“But the villains are.”

Deke smiled. “I’m going to have to warn the ladies that they have a handful coming their way.”

“I’m not here as a patient.”

“No? What can I do for you, then?”

“Our rainy night has given way to a beautiful day, and some folks from town have put together an impromptu get-together. As thanks for stopping here and fixing our sick, for nothing more than a thank-you, we’d like y’all to join us for a nice BBQ dinner tonight.”

Shit.

He’d already come across a second cousin on his Mama’s side, this morning. No doubt Sally had already told her mama about sighting the gov cuz, and Aunt Gertie’s curiosity would’ve been piqued enough to ring up her sister.

If they’d left yesterday as planned, he could’ve avoided his family’s looks of betrayal and questions he couldn’t answer. But they hadn’t left, and the Southern boy in him could never turn down genuine hospitality.

“That’s real kind of you, but we never know when we’ll finish up. We’d hate to keep y’all waiting.”

“It’s nothing fancy. City Hall gave us the Roundhouse pavilion for free, and most everything will be simmering in crock pots. Come when you’re able.”

“I’ll speak to the ladies, but I doubt they’ll refuse a home-cooked meal. We’ll do our best to make it there by seven-thirty. How’s that sound?”

“Whenever. I’ve got nothing better to do these days than wait for death. It’ll do my heart good to keep an eye out for a full-bodied bourbon, like you.”

He bent down to kiss the woman’s cheek. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Rita Sampson.”

“See you tonight, Mrs. Sampson.”

“Rita. Never did like my husband, not even when he was alive. Now I’m stuck with the old goat’s name.”

She marched back to her vehicle and drove off. In many ways, she reminded him of his own tough-as-nails grandma. He missed her. Besides his mom and sister Dara, she’d been the only other one who’d been upset by his dad’s ultimatum. Dylan had seemed unhappy about the situation at first, but his calls had dwindled to a semiannual come-bail-me-out-of-trouble.

If his cousin Sally hadn’t managed to stir up enough interest about his presence, Rita’s BBQ would finish it off. Nobody passed up a potluck in these parts. Except for his dad. The old man wasn’t much for social gatherings on a good day. If he got wind his traitorous son would be in attendance, he’d for sure avoid the event. And where Mitch Conrad didn’t go, his wife Iris didn’t go.

A cannon-sized head plowed into his stomach, the impact knocking him off his feet and onto his back.

“Willie! I told you to stop tripping your brother.” The woman from the Taurus kneeled beside him, a crusty-nosed infant in her arms. “Are you all right, sir?”

The Med Mobile door swung open, and Evie appeared, concern emblazoned her features. In one big sweep of her intelligent blue eyes, she assessed the situation. Concern faded to amusement.

He rolled to a sitting position, which put him eye-to-eye with the towhead who had rammed into him. Fear made the boy’s eyes as big as baseballs. Not so with his older brother. The unrepentant Willie snickered behind his grimy, nail-bitten hand.

Ruffling the younger boy’s blond head, he said, “I’m fine.”

“Tell the man you’re sorry, Bobby,” the boy’s mother said.

“Sorry, sir.”

“Willie,” she prompted.

The older boy stared at him a full five seconds before murmuring something under his breath. Could have been an apology, or a demand for Deke to go to hell. He couldn’t be sure.

“Apology accepted.” He got to his feet, and Bobby’s eyes grew wide as he tilted his head back and back and back to take in his victim’s full height. “Why don’t you two be good boys and do your mama a favor by sitting down?”

The youngest scrambled over to the row of bag chairs Deke had set out to create an outdoor waiting room area. Willie crossed his arms.

Cooing to her infant, the woman was unaware of her eldest son’s defiance.

He peered at Evie. She crossed her arms in perfect imitation of the boy’s stance, her grin fighting to break free.

What the hell was he supposed to do? If he’d acted that way in front of his mama, he would’ve spent the next week cleaning toilets and brushing the dog. How did parents teach kids respect these days?

“Do you like to gamble, Willie?”

“Sure.”

“Two out of three. Rock-paper-scissors. I win—you sit down over there and be quiet until your mama’s ready to go. You win—?”

“I get a twelve-pack of beer.”

“Try again.”

“A gallon of cookie dough ice cream.”

“Deal.” He rested his fist in his palm. Willie followed suit. “On the count of three. Ready?”

Willie nodded.

“One, two—” they pounded their fists into their palms, “—three.” He ended with his hand flat and Willie’s fingers splayed into a V.

“I win!” Willie announced, bouncing on his toes.

“Not yet. We have two more to go.”

This time, Willie did the count. “One, two, three.”

He kept his hand fisted and Willie stayed with the scissors.

“One for one.”

Willie scowled. The count came faster this time. Rock to rock. Tie.

Paper to paper. Tie.

Paper covers rock. Two to one. Game to Deke.

“Again,” Willie demanded.

“That’s not how it works, Sport.”

Willie shoved his hands into his pockets, staring at the ground.

“Did you forget the terms of our deal?”

Silence.

“A man pays his debts—and honors his mother.” When Willie’s feet stayed planted in place, he pushed harder. “Of course, you’re not quite a man yet. What are you? Ten?”

“Twelve!”

“Ahh. Not a boy, but not a man.” He rubbed his chin, already hearing the sandpaper scratch of newborn whiskers. “I wonder what decision you’ll make? The boy’s or the man’s?”

Willie glanced between him, his mom, and little brothers. Ego warred with honor. He left them in suspense a moment longer before shuffling over to a chair and plopping down.

His mother mouthed a “thank-you” as she accepted the clipboard.

“Bobby, Steve—go sit next to your brother. Behave yourselves while I take Clara inside to see the nurse.”

The younger brothers dutifully sat on either side of Willie.

Evie stepped aside to allow the mother entrance, a soft, proud smile on her breath-stealing face. Her approval wrapped around his chest like a warm blanket. Already he wondered what he could do to make her smile at him like that again.

After the ladies went inside, he ignored the boys and turned his mind to the guy in the rusted truck. Frank Cleamer. The name didn’t ring a bell, but he’d been away from Rockton for over a decade.

A few minutes later, the Med Mobile door opened, and the mother waved to her son. “Steve, you’re next.”

Willie continued to sit with his chin tucked into his chest and his hands stuffed into his pockets. The deal said nothing about not pouting. He gave the kid points for keeping up his end of the deal, though.

When the last boy was summoned into the RV, he jogged across the lot to the pharmacy-grocery store to purchase four quarts of cookie dough ice cream. He dropped the bounty into the passenger seat of the Taurus. With the vehicle parked beneath a tree, the kids’ treat shouldn’t melt too much before they finished up.

Out of all the things Willie could have asked for, he’d chosen ice cream, which told him little of it reached the boy’s belly. A kid should be able to enjoy a scoop of cookie dough from time to time—no matter how much gray the punk added to his mom’s hair.

Five minutes later, the brood left, but not before a chorus of cheers erupted from the vehicle. He kept his back to the commotion, a grin on his face.

“What’s all that about?” Evie asked, stepping down beside him.

“Sounds like they’re ready to go home. What’d you do to them?”

“The normal poking and prodding. Nothing that would create any excitement.”

“We’ve been invited to dinner.”

“By whom?”

“Rita Sampson and friends.”

“Rita?”

“Spokeswoman for the good people of Rockton, who wish to thank you and Lisa for your generosity.”

“Why? This is our job.”

Did she really not understand the value of her work? “These are proud people, Evie. They might not be able to pay you, but they sure as hell can feed you.”

“We’re happy to help where we can. They needn’t go through such trouble.”

“They don’t see it as trouble. They see it as a way of giving thanks.”

“But I don’t have a dish to take.”

“We’ll stop at the store.” He moved close, framing her cheek in his palm. “What is it? Why are you making excuses not to go?”

Rather than answer, she nuzzled into his touch, and guilty need stabbed him in the gut.

“Tell me.”

“I don’t like to be in the spotlight.”

“Aren’t you the outgoing Steele? The one who flits around at all the social gatherings?”

“I’m the Steele who likes for everyone to be happy. Sometimes I have to step outside my comfort zone in order to make that happen. But I never like being the focus of everyone’s attention.”

“You won’t be. Lisa and I’ll be at your side.”

“I had hoped that—” her gaze roamed the parking lot before resting on his again, “—you and I could have some more alone time.”

“Evie, what happened last night—”

“Please don’t tell me it was a mistake,” she burst out. “I think I can handle almost anything but awful follow-up.”

His mind scrambled for a new word. Giving in to his desire had been a mistake, one that caused him significant guilt and untold joy. No word existed for such conflicting emotions.

“I don’t regret what we did, but things just got a whole lot more complicated.”

“How?”

Sugarcoating the truth wouldn’t make this situation any easier. It might get him off the hook for a few days, but the bite in the ass would eventually come. All the Steeles appreciated straight talk, no matter how unwelcome. Evie was no different.

“My uncontrolled actions planted a seed within your heart. A seed of hope. Hope where none should exist.”