Page 27 of Finding His Redemption

“What?”

“Nothing.” He took off his hat, ran a hand through that wild hair of his, and looked in the direction of the cabin. “Yeah, that’s him. Stay clear unless invited. He’s about as sociable as a cactus.”

“So what’s his deal?”

“Evander?” River scratched at his chin, considering, then settled his hat back on his head. “Like I said before, he’s the only man who ever quit Valor Ridge. Comes around town sometimes, but mostly stays out there.” He nodded toward the cabin. “Other than that, I don’t know much about him. He does wilderness retreats, though I don’t know why anyone would pay to spend time in his company. Dude communicates exclusively in grunts and death stares.”

They kept their distance from Cole’s property as they followed the fence past the cabin. The hellhound lifted its head and tracked them, its sharply pointed ears twitching. Cole himself didn’t pause or wave. He just kept splitting logs, the ax rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Soon the trail bent back toward the ranch, and River’s mood lightened as if they’d passed through some invisible checkpoint. “Anyway, the real fun around here’s not the work, it’s the shit you get up to when you’re pretending to be a citizen again. You ever go into Solace?”

Jax hesitated, then decided his escape attempt was probably common knowledge by now. “Yesterday morning. Nessie’s Place.”

“She’s all right,” River said with a nod. “You ask me, the only reason half the men here haven’t offed themselves is Nessie’s bakery. Her muffins are almost as good as sex.” He shot Jax a look. “Did she feed you?”

“Just coffee and eggs while her kid told me all about fire trucks.”

River barked a laugh. “That kid’s her pride and joy, but he’s weird as hell. Kind of a mini genius. Obsessed with those trucks and dinos and absorbs information like a sponge. He once recited the entire periodic table to Walker, and Walker just nodded along like he understood any of it. Little dude will probably be president someday, assuming he survives the school bus.”

Jax pictured the kid’s animated face—the big brown eyes and wide smile—as he’d explained the five functions of a fire truck.

Would Oliver get bullied in school?

He wasn’t sure why that thought put a pit in his gut, but it did. Some part of him—the part he didn’t trust, didn’t even like—wanted to protect that weird little kid. And wanted to protect the woman raising him.

But it wasn’t his problem.

Besides, a woman who looked like that probably already had someone to stand up for her and the kid. Someone like the boy’s father.

Except he hadn’t seen a ring.

And if she had a man in her life, wouldn’t she have called him for help when her tire went flat?

“Is Nessie married?”

River cocked an eyebrow. “Nah. She used to be, but she left the guy before moving here. Nobody knows the details, but rumor is he was an abusive prick. She doesn’t talk about it. You sweet on her already?”

“No.” The denial came out too fast to be believable, so he followed it with a casual, “Just wondering what her story is.”

River’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Bullshit. If you’re into her, you better move fast before X gets there first. Or Boone.”

“Boone?”

River snorted. “Oh, yeah. Big guy’s got a thing for her, but he’d bite off his own tongue before saying so. He’s basicallyallergic to feelings. And X… well, X is X. Good luck out-charming him. And, c’mon, you’ve seen him. Like Shemar Moore’s younger, hotter brother. Guys don’t get much straighter than me, but he makes me question that.”

Jax grunted, but something sour twisted in his gut. Boone and X. As if he could even compete.

Not that he wanted to.

Nessie was just… kind, that was all. Kind to strays, and he happened to be the stray du jour. He didn’t want anything from her. Didn’t want to complicate her life with his own mess.

They passed a washed-out section of fence. River dismounted, dug spare wire and tools from a saddlebag, and tossed a pair of gloves to Jax. “Here. Let’s not get tetanus, huh?”

Jax studied the gloves. The fingertips were worn slick and gray from use. Not prison issue. No numbers, no big black “PROPERTY OF.”

“You ever fix one before?” River asked.

He pulled on the gloves and shook his head. “Never had much reason to.”

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