Chapter Nineteen
Nicki was in her bathroom the next evening, trying to wet away the funky dent a ponytail elastic had left in her hair when she heard her phone chime.
Please be Miah.
Please don’t be a teacher.
She slipped it from her pocket and checked the screen. “Hallelujah.” She dried her fingers and hit ACCEPT. “Well, hello.”
“Hello yourself. You busy?”
“Not especially,” she said, regarding the damp mass of curls perched like a drowned cat atop her head. “Just making myself beautiful.”
“Job done, then.”
She laughed, smiling at her reflection. “Nice, Romeo. How’s that footage coming?”
A sigh. “Slow, but steady, I suppose. I’m through most of Saturday’s, between last night and this afternoon. It’s boring as fuck, if I’m honest. And I don’t know if it’s smart or not, holding out hope that I might actually recognize somebody.”
“Sure.”
“The worst bit is, I’m so tired from work, and my head’s so screwed up, I keep catching myself thinking, ‘Do I know that guy? Is that face familiar? Could he have been one of the property scouts?’”
She groaned her sympathy. “I’ll bet.”
“But I’ll see it through, don’t worry about that.”
“I wasn’t worried. Well, no dramatic updates—that’s too bad. Is, uh, is that why you called?” Because I sure wouldn’t mind finding myself on your couch again.
“Not entirely . . . Can I be frank?” Miah asked.
“Always.” Though as she said it, a little panic sent Nicki’s nerves skittering. People asking to be frank rarely have good news to break. What if he didn’t want to see her anymore?
But he banished her fears with three hushed little words. “I miss you.”
She was thankful they were on the phone—her grin was massive and far from dignified, her pleasure a full-body flush. “Oh. I see. I have to admit, I miss you, too. Are you someplace public? Why’d you whisper it?”
“I dunno. Guess you make me shy is all.”
Swoon. “I’m strangely happy to hear that.”
“Wish I could see you again. Like Tuesday night, I mean, or yesterday afternoon . . . But I better focus on the security video.”
She slumped, but he was right. “Yeah, you better. Wish I could help.”
“Wish you could, too. Wish you could come over and we could watch it together, but I have a strong suspicion we’d wind up naked with nothing to show for the evening.”
“Nothing?” she said, making her voice sharp.
He laughed. “Nothing upstanding, I mean.”
“‘Upstanding’ sounds like no fun compared to horizontality, you’re right.”
“Soon, though. Before you realize I smell like a stable and run for the foothills,” he added. “You working right now?”
“No, I just got off. I’m home to get changed, then I’ve promised to take Matty to Benji’s. His class is doing a unit on debate and he’s really nervous about his turn on Monday. I promised I’d help him practice over a basket of fries.”
“That sounds fun.”
“Fun as homework gets, I’m hoping. You, um . . . If you need dinner, maybe you could come, too. You know, like an accident—‘oh, funny running into you here’ . . .”
“Hm. You know, that’s not a terrible idea. Plus my mom’s socked under with work—I could bring her home something, save her the trouble of cooking. When?”
“We’ll probably get there in about a half hour.”
“You’re on, then. I look forward to bumping into you.”
“Me too.” She was literally bouncing on the balls of her feet now, she noted, catching herself.
“And Matty,” Miah added.
“Just don’t get him going about cowboy stuff again—I need him focused.”
“Shame. What’s his debate topic?”
“He told me but I can’t remember. Something to do with the environment, I think?”
“Guess I’ll find out for myself. See you in a bit.”
“See you.”
They hung up, and Nicki studied her phone’s glowing screen, the name emblazoned there. Jeremiah Church. She longed to change his contact to read plain old Miah, but the thought felt as right as it did incriminating. Or dangerous, like she might jinx it all, admitting to her phone that her feelings for him went so far beyond those of a concerned officer of the law.
She gave up on her hair, strapping it back once more, and headed for her room.
The sad truth of this evening was, getting Matty to do any sort of schoowork was like pulling teeth, and tonight’s dinner was basically a bribe.
It had never been like this, back in Chicago, she thought, unbuttoning her uniform. Matty hadn’t ever been a star pupil, but he’d looked forward to school and taken it fairly seriously. His friends back home had been a smart group, and he’d always wanted to keep up with the pack.
Back home, her brain echoed. She plucked a black sweater from a hanger, and a berry-colored collared shirt. Is that how I feel about it, too? She supposed it was. Chicago was home still. This house and its rooms, this town and its roads, they might be familiar now, but they weren’t home, and she was beginning to suspect they never would be. Maybe Matty knew what she wasn’t ready to admit to herself—that this graft wasn’t going to take.
You never know. Middle school had only just started, and that sucked for every kid. Plus he was barreling toward puberty, and that was bound to dampen a boy’s interest in academics. He’d make friends in time, and so would she. Except . . .
Except she didn’t feel as though she was making much of a difference here, and that was the only reason to stay in her line of work. All things considered, this change was feeling less and less like an adventure and more and more like an impulsive mistake.
She changed into the sweater and some jeans and went to knock on Matty’s door. It was ajar, so she pushed it in. He was sprawled on his belly across his covers, laptop glowing and lighting his face bluish-white.
“You about ready?”
He didn’t look up, fingers busy.
“Mathias.”
“Almost. Just lemme finish messaging Isaiah.”
“Five minutes.”
“‘Kay.”
“Did you walk Hershey?”
“Uh-huh.”
She left him be and headed back to the bathroom, touching up her makeup. She picked up her eye shadow compact, then frowned. Wait, no, silly. Like Matty would even notice, let alone think she was getting fancied up for a man. She smoked her lids and put on a fresh coat of mascara, dabbed perfume behind her ears.
Fuck, you smell good.
She shivered, smiling at her reflection. “Dork.”
Her mom was in the kitchen, a pot bubbling away on the stove—yesterday’s chili.
“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” Nicki asked.
Her mom turned from the cupboard with a bowl. “I am very sure. I love you and I love my grandson, but a couple hours to myself sounds too good to pass up. I’m going to make myself a gin and tonic and call your Aunt Bitty.”
“Give her my best.”
“I shall. You look very nice, you know.”
“It’s just eye shadow.”
Her brows rose.
“It’s literally just eye shadow. Sad how I’ll take any excuse to wear some, though.”
“Not seeing your friend from the other night, then? You smell awfully nice for a barbecue joint.”
“‘Friend’ is the key word, Ma, and Matty is my sole dinner companion,” she fibbed. “I’m all gussied up for a date with a ten-year-old and a basket of French fries.”
Her mom pursed her lips in that way that said, I won’t pry, but I want you to know I think you’re full of shit. “Suit yourself.”
“I will, thank you.”
Matty appeared in his jacket and shoes, backpack slung over one shoulder.
Nicki kissed her mom’s cheek. “See you in a bit. I’ll bring you dessert if there’s anything good.”
“You look nice,” she said again. “Have a good time.”
“What am I,” Matty asked, “chopped liver?”
“You look dashing as ever,” his grandmother proclaimed, smoothing her hands over his hair. “And I want to hear your opening argument when you get back.”
“Okay.”
“Team affirmative!” she hooted, fists in the air, then turned to stir the chili.
“It’s just a stupid assignment,” he muttered. “Not homecoming.” He headed for the door and Nicki followed, smirking back at her mom.
She pried into the comings and goings of Matty’s social circle back home on the drive, and pulled into the bar’s lot just as the sun was swallowed up by the high, pointed peak to the west.
Benji’s was busy, Saturday-night drinking not fully underway yet, but a big and bustling dinner crowd.
All the better for Miah to join our table, she thought, snagging the last free one.
“What do you want to drink?” she asked Matty.
“Root beer.”
She squinted at the chalkboard menu. “Basket of fries, and what else? There’s a pulled pork sandwich special. I might get that.”
“Can I get a bacon cheeseburger?”
A year ago she’d have told him no, knowing he’d eat three bites then declare himself stuffed, but he’d changed, in that respect. The kid could probably sock away an entire steer and still have room for pie.
“Sure,” she said. “You get your notes out and I’ll order.”
She walked to the bar, finding an unfamiliar face—a woman about her age, with dark, wavy hair and no deficit of décolletage.
“What can I get you?” the woman asked, making change and passing it to another customer.
“The pulled pork special, a bacon cheeseburger, a basket of fries, and a root beer.” She scanned the bottles lined up on the shelves behind the register. “And a glass of red wine. Whatever’s cheap and not too sweet.”
“How do you want that burger done?”
“Medium well.”
“You got it.” The bartender tapped on the register’s touchscreen. “Twenty-one fifty.”
Nicki handed over her card.
The bartender swiped it. “You work for the BCSD, right?”
“I do, yeah. Patrol deputy. Nicki,” she added, and offered her hand.
The woman shook it. “Raina.”
Nicki’s stomach gave a little lurch. “Oh, Raina. You used to own this place.” And the man I’m stupid over used to be pretty stupid over you.
That changed Nicki’s scrutiny in a beat. She hadn’t known who to picture, but Raina wasn’t it. She was . . . Well, she was far sexier than Nicki would have imagined. Not to say that Miah couldn’t land an attractive woman, of course, but his style struck Nicki as more understated. Raina wore snug jeans and an equally snug tank top, and she was all clavicle and hips and tattoo ink and that just-got-fucked hair. Nicki was just thankful she wasn’t wearing her uniform.
Like it’s even common knowledge, that we share a lover. Weird how it felt like it should be, though. Like she wouldn’t mind shouting it from the rooftops.
“My dad opened the bar,” Raina said, dark eyes moving around the room. “I kept it hobbling along, but my boyfriend and his partner gave it its second lease on life. I don’t really work here anymore—just covering.”
“Your boyfriend—does he have an accent?”
She nodded, smiling, then laid Nicki’s card and receipt before her, setting a pen on top. “Tall, English, makes precisely negative sense in Fortuity?”
“I know the one,” Nicki said, signing. Very good-looking, but, yes, very misplaced.
“And you know a good friend of mine,” Raina said. “Or so I hear.”
“Oh?” She slid the receipt and pen back over.
“Miah.” Raina didn’t need to mention his last name, and her smirk said she goddamn knew it. “Casey thinks you two have something going on.” She grabbed a plastic tumbler, dragging it through the ice bin behind the bar.
“I’ve never actually been introduced to Casey,” Nicki said, dodging.
Raina shrugged, filling the tumbler with root beer. “He’s a dumbass, so I won’t take it as gospel . . . But if there’s any truth to it, just treat Miah right. He’s special. One of the best men I’ve ever known.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“For a Republican,” she added dryly.
Nicki laughed. “I hadn’t even thought to ask. We’re just friends,” she clarified, though every time she said so, the truth of that technicality grated on her worse and worse.
Raina grabbed a wineglass next and pulled the rubber stopper from an open bottle of red. Her pour was generous. “If you see him,” she said, setting the glass before Nicki, “tell him to get his ass in here more often.”
“If I see him, I will.” You might get your wish sooner than you know.
“Food should be about twenty minutes—it’s a busy night.” She plucked one of those table signs out from under the bar—a metal stand resembling a spur, with a plastic card pinched at the top, number fourteen.
“No problem. Thanks.”
Nicki left a few bucks on the counter for a tip and carried the drinks and sign back to the table. Matty had index cards and printed pages spread out across the scuffed wood. He was studying them very carefully; perhaps to avoid noticing that a few people were likely studying him.
Nicki knew the feeling. Most of the attention was neutral or curious, not hostile, but it put a person on edge all the same. Wherever they wound up after Fortuity, she could admit she intended to make sure it was well populated with brown faces.
“Root beer,” she said, tugging a napkin from the table’s dispenser and setting Matty’s soda on it.
“Thanks,” he muttered, eyes on a card.
“So, what’s Team Affirmative arguing in favor of?” she asked, but before she could answer, a shadow fell across the table. When she glanced up, there was Miah. Her heart gave a funny, pleasant wobble.
“Oh, hello.”
“Hey, Nicki. Hey, Matty.” He looked to Matty’s mess. “What’s all this about?”
“Hi, Mr. Church. I have to get ready for a debate thing, for school.”
“Oh yeah? I bet you’re good at that. You busted my balls enough when I put you to work last weekend.”
Matty’s smile was shy but unmistakably pleased. “No, I didn’t. Don’t get me in trouble.”
“You want to join us?” Nicki asked. “We just ordered.”
Miah went through the motions of scanning for a free perch, then shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
“You can help me grill Matty.”
“That sounds like an irresistible invitation. Lemme just order some food of my own, and you’re on.”
Nicki watched him as he did, curious what the body language would be like between him and his ex, knowing what little she did. Only that they burned hot and he didn’t cool off quickly, once it was over. Thankfully Nicki had never wasted much energy on jealousy.
And she wouldn’t be wasting any tonight—Miah and Raina seemed friendly but perfectly comfortable, perfectly casual. Nicki turned back to Matty before Raina might get a chance to catch her watching.
Miah returned shortly with a glass of beer. “Okay, so what’s this debate about?” he asked.
Matty looked up. “It’s about what rights the public has or doesn’t have when it comes to using publicly owned land.”
His eyebrows rose. “Like ranchers, you mean?”
“All kinds of people. But yeah, grazing and recreation and stuff.”
“I see. And are you for or against?”
“I’m for. I mean, that’s the side I got assigned to.”
Nicki looked to Miah. “You must have some strong opinions on this matter.”
“I do indeed. But I can see the arguments for both camps—I can’t imagine a rancher who wouldn’t. I mean, eighty percent of the land in Nevada is owned by the government. You couldn’t come in and start an operation as big as Three C in this day and age, no matter how much money you have—the space just isn’t there.”
Nicki frowned. She hadn’t known that. It reminded her too much of the mystery surrounding Don Church’s murder, and she wasn’t prepared to parse that in the same evening she enjoyed the undeniable—if secret—pleasure of her son interacting with the man she’d fallen for.
“So you think it’s cool for people to just show up and take over?” Matty asked Miah.
“Well, I didn’t say that. That’s happened not all that far from here, as you probably learned while you were researching.”
“They brought a load of guns and stuff,” Matty said. “I don’t see how it’s okay to just show up with guns and be bullies about it.”
Miah nodded. Matty’s distaste for weapons probably wasn’t wasted on him; they’d both lost male role models to bullets. “You finding it hard to argue for it, then?”
“Yeah, kinda.”
“That’s what makes debate so challenging, sometimes,” Nicki said. “Or being a human, for that matter—trying to understand the other side and how they feel about things.”
“I don’t see what there is to argue,” Matty said, pouting. “How’s it okay to march in like you own the place like that?”
“Well, maybe set aside what those people did, and think about it from another perspective.”
“Like whose?”
“Well,” Miah said, sitting back in his seat and sipping his beer. “Imagine you’re one of my ranch hands, and you’ve saved up enough capital to start your own small cattle ranching operation . . .”
Nicki tuned out of the actual lesson, lost simply in watching Miah and Matty work through the argument together. Her ex-husband was a good man in many ways, but she’d always wished he’d been more involved when it came to Matty’s schoolwork, more willing to push, to figure out what needed to be done, as opposed to just telling the kid to buckle down. It did funny things to her heart the way Miah treated Matty like a pint-sized man. He spoke to him in that golden way that made a kid feel respected, and like a grown-up expected more from them than they were used to. That way that made a child want to live up to those expectations. She wished she was better at that herself, but it was hard, as a mother. Even when he turned forty, Matty would still be her baby boy.
The food arrived shortly, and though the outing was dominated largely by Matty’s assignment, Nicki enjoyed every second of it. The kid could use a strong male figure in his life on the local level. It only felt a little dangerous that that man should be the same one the kid’s mom was currently stupid over.
Long after the sandwiches had been obliterated and the glasses drained, Miah checked his phone’s clock. “Oh, jeez. I better order my mom’s dinner and get on my way.”
Nicki checked her own phone. “Yikes. It’s nearly eight. Please, don’t let us keep you—we should be getting back, too. It may not be a school night, but I go on duty at six.”
“You know, Matty, if you felt like coming by Three C again, we sure could use your help.”
The kid’s face lit up brighter than the Fourth of July. “Yeah?”
“Raf said you were indispensible. Any weekend when you’ve got all your homework done ahead of time, just have your mom call me.”
Matty looked to Nicki and she nodded. “Emphasis on the homework being done,” she said, beaming Miah a thank-you for that intuition.
“That’d be awesome,” Matty said. “I’ve got Friday off. It’s some teacher training day.”
“That could work.”
“I, um . . .” Matty went shy for a moment. “I had to write a paper for my history class, about the West. I wrote about black cowboys.”
Miah said, “Oh yeah?” just as Nicki said, “You did?” This was news to her. Matty had gotten so cagey about his school life.
He nodded. “I learned all about them on the internet, after you told me. I haven’t gotten graded yet—I only handed it in yesterday—but it was a whole page longer than it had to be. I bet I’ll get an A. Or at least a B,” he amended, a glimmer of defeat tempering his proud expression.
“That’s a pretty great topic,” Miah said.
“I know. And nobody else in my class picked it, I don’t think.”
“I’ll be crossing my fingers for you. Let me know how you do.”
“Thanks.”
Nicki had to work quickly to fight off the funny little tears stinging her eyes. Probably ovulating. Calm it down, girl.
Miah and Nicki both headed to the bar while Matty got his things packed up. She ordered a slice of pecan pie to go for her mom and Miah ordered ribs and a side salad.
“Thank you,” she said, softly, but not so softly as to look conspiratorial. “For talking him through all that.”
“My pleasure. He’s a smart kid. I admire his perspective, but I think he’ll do just fine, arguing his side.”
“Me too. Or I do now, anyway. I’d forgotten what his topic even was—handy you came by.”
“Very local. I like it,” he said, smiling. Raina handed his card back and he signed his receipt. “And I won’t lie—I was pretty pleased to hear about that paper he wrote. That he chose to write about cowboys.”
“A hundred percent down to you.”
He eyed the taps. “Wish I could hazard another drink, but what with a deputy present . . .”
She smirked. “Probably wise.” She dropped her voice. “I wouldn’t mind another glass of wine, if only we were someplace a little more private.”
He swallowed. “If only.”
“Someplace with a dozen sets of eerie glass eyes watching our every move.”
He laughed. “Point taken. Hope you weren’t too traumatized, city girl.”
“Not too traumatized, as I suspect you may have guessed . . . And I would like that, when you’re done with the surveillance videos. I’d like it a lot.”
“So would I. I’ll let you know as soon as I finish.”
“You mean you’ll let me know as soon as you spy the culprit and bust this case wide open.”
His smile waned. “I’m not getting my hopes up, and I’d advise you to do the same. Not that I’m not grateful for what you did.”
“Of course not. And I feel you. It’s hard to walk that line between optimism and foolishness.”
“Like a tightrope,” he said, nodding.
“Pecan pie,” Raina announced, appearing with a cardboard takeaway box.
“Thanks.” Nicki took it. “Well, we better get home. Thanks again, Miah. How very fortuitous, finding you at our table.”
“No doubt,” Raina murmured, smiling to herself as she poured a pint. There was slyness to her tone, but no ill will.
“You’re welcome,” Miah said to Nicki, only missing half a beat. “It was fun. And any chance to school a city kid on the intricacies of life in the badlands . . .”
“Sure. Anyhow, give your mom my best. See you around.”
“You too. Night.”
They let their gazes linger just long enough. Just long enough to convey two boatloads of longing and desire, and not a millisecond longer.
She’d have paid a small fortune to freeze the world, if only to kiss this handsome, intelligent, guileless man square on the mouth. At the same time, there was a deliciousness to the yearning that engulfed her as she mustered the strength to turn away.
When we do get our chance, we’ll be lucky if a single stitch of clothing survives the ravishing. She’d be smart to pack a spare outfit.
There really wasn’t anything quite so attractive as a man who treated your child right.