Page 9 of Bad For Me (Rock Canyon, Idaho 5)

“That sounds just like him. He’s a good boy. Would give the shirt off his back to a stranger if he needed it.” Fred paused, and Callie looked up in time to catch the flash of pain in his eyes. “I worry about him, though.”

Every fiber of her being wanted to ask why, wanted to press for more, but she didn’t want to seem like she was fishing for information.

“I just think he spends too much time alone,” Fred continued. “When he first got home and was recuperating, I understood, but he’s had time. He should be out, getting reacquainted with the world. And so should you, missy,” Fred added, patting her hand.

“Oh, come on, I’m in touch with the world.”

“Watching the news doesn’t count.”

“Does reading it?” she asked.

“No. I just mean, you should be out there, meeting a young man. A real man.”

Callie’s mouth twitched. “Oh yeah? And where do I find all these real men?”

“In the country, at church, on farms,” Fred said, holding his fingers out as he named off places. “You would be surprised where the perfect man might show up.”

His words caused a familiar ache to settle in her chest, but that wasn’t his fault. Her thoughts drifted back to high school, when she thought she’d met the perfect blue-eyed boy in her sophomore English class. He’d come walking in, and the minute he’d caught her gaze, she’d known he was meant to be hers. Which was proof enough that there were too many outside factors for anyone to be perfect for another. There was no right one, no “forever and ever, amen,” no matter what Randy Travis sang. There was happy for now. There was getting some good years together.

And then there were irreconcilable differences.

“Callie, I swear, girl, you’re a million miles away and fading fast.”

Fred’s comment pulled her back again, and she shook her head. “Honestly, I think I just haven’t had a good run in a while.”

After she’d joined AA, she’d started running in the morning and at night. Anytime she started to feel helpless or out of control, she took her control back. She wasn’t sure if it was the endorphins or the soreness afterward, but running always put things in perspective. She was alive. She had survived.

“Well, don’t feel like you need to humor an old goat like me.”

“Don’t be silly. You know I enjoy your company.”

“Same goes, but you should go home. Maybe take a nap or a jog, if that’s what you like. Me? Well, I’d rather go home, sit down in my chair, and turn on some football.”

Callie was thankful that Fred was so understanding. Sometimes, depending on what was weighing on her mind, she just needed to be alone. Actually, most of her free time was spent alone, watching TV with a bowl of buttered popcorn in her lap. Unless it was Karaoke Night at Hank’s Bar. She hadn’t accepted Gemma’s invitation to go out until about two years ago, and even now, some nights it was hard as hell. But she pushed through her weaknesses because going out with her friends gave her a small semblance of normalcy, something she wanted desperately.

Still, she hadn’t been to Hank’s in the last few months, what with Gemma’s being pregnant. Without Gemma as a buffer, going out with the rest of the group was awkward, especially with Gracie. Callie liked the opinionated blonde most of the time, but she was a little too wild for Callie on her own. Too many times, Gracie had mouthed off and caused a scene, and the last thing Callie wanted to be around was drama and violence.

She’d seen enough of that to last a lifetime.

AFTER HIS RUN-IN with Callie, Everett decided to head out for his usual hike. He still had several hours of daylight left and needed to burn some energy. When he worked hard during the day, he usually slept better. No night terrors. No lying awake, thinking of Robbie or Robbie’s family. Sometimes he still used a sleep aid but not often. Not with his family history of addiction.

He stopped along the hiking trail and bent over to tie his shoelace. The late afternoon sky was just turning a peach color as the sun sank down. He loved coming here, not just for the peace and quiet but for the beauty that surrounded him. This time of year, the trails were becoming overgrown, but at least it was past tick season. He hated those blood-sucking bastards.

Once his shoe was tied, he dropped his pack onto the ground and pulled his water bottle out. He always came prepared for several hours: a couple of water bottles, protein bars, a windbreaker—and his Glock attached to his thigh, just in case. The chances of bumping into a large predator were slim, but it never hurt to be prepared.

Everett took a long drink from his bottle before shoving it back inside his pack and pulling it into place. He needed time to think, especially about his reaction to Callie.

When he’d married Alicia, all he had wanted was to settle down and start a family. Have a couple of kids who would jump into his arms when he came home and a loving wife to grow old with. It was what he had been working for.

Until a roadside bomb had blown those dreams to hell.

Everett couldn’t blame his accident for his marriage going down the crapper. According to some of his friends’ wives, Alicia had never been a one-marine woman anyway. When he’d come back hurt and with a long road to recovery, she’d bolted. Still, it had hurt like hell to wake up one morning and find that his wife had abandoned him. Granted, they had spent more time apart than together, but she could have at least had the decency to leave him a Dear John letter. Instead, she’d sent him a text: At my mother’s. I want a divorce.

Since he’d come home, he’d been working on himself first, then on the farm, and then on Stateside. After a while, he’d started to think that maybe, if he met the right woman, he could have the family he’d always wanted. But he couldn’t seem to find a woman who fit the bill.

Whiskey-hazel eyes flashed through his mind, and he shook his head. Callie was the first woman to spark anything inside him, but she hadn’t exactly seemed enthralled with him when they’d bumped into each other. If she knew he was Rhett, his fiasco on the phone would make him persona non grata.

Maybe she’s just shy and awkward in person. Maybe she has her own hang-ups, just like you.

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