Page 8 of Hopeful Cowboy

Chapter Three

Nate held onto Connor’s hand as if the small child could protect him from what was about to happen. He’d managed to carry his bag, the backpack Ginger had brought, and his nephew out of the facility.

Ginger drove a nice truck, and they’d made good time from River Bay to White Lake, Connor on the bench seat between them. She kept the radio on low, and the tension between them had bled out after only a few minutes.

Nate couldn’t get enough of the scenery, and he kept trying to see everything as it passed. The flat fields, full of crops and waving in the morning light. The water towers fascinated him. And when Ginger had pulled onto the coastal highway, he simply couldn’t get enough of the glinting water, the long stretch of tan the sand of the beach.

The beach.

The water.

The sky.

It was all different outside of the River Bay FCI, and Nate breathed in deeply through his nose, no fear of what he might smell.

“Uncle Nate,” Connor said from on the seat beside him.

“Yeah?” Nate looked down at the child, his eyes so much like Ward’s. Like, Nate’s too. Those deep, bright blue eyes came from their father, and Nate couldn’t find hardly any of Jane in her son.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Nate looked at Ginger, who’d already started to decelerate.

“There’s a place right up here,” she said, easing one of her booted feet onto the brake. She made the turn and a couple of blocks down, she pulled into a fast food restaurant.

Nate sat there, because he didn’t know if he could take Connor into the restroom alone. His heartbeat pulsed through his whole body, a pit of nervousness way down deep in his gut. He couldn’t just walk into this place, though the scent of breakfast hung in the air and tempted him to get a sausage and egg biscuit.

“Come on,” Ginger said, finally opening her door. “Get out my side, buddy. We’ll meet your uncle inside.” She tossed him a look as she slid from the truck and turned back to help Connor out.

The door slammed closed, and Nate flinched. He pressed his eyes closed and breathed through his nose again. He wasn’t wearing the prison blues and oranges. No one here would even know who he was, or that he’d been a free man—kind of—for less than two hours.

He opened the door and got out of the truck, closing the door much softer than Ginger had. She’d taken Connor into the restaurant, and Nate followed, finding them standing in the short hallway that led to the bathrooms.

He took Connor’s hand and went into the men’s room, wondering what Ginger was going to do. Probably just stand watch to make sure he didn’t try to run away with his nephew. He was pretty sure he could overpower her without even trying, but he had no desire to run.

He had nowhere to go.

He’d asked all kinds of questions on Wednesday night, but no one had known any of the answers. Finally, Warden Dickerson had said he’d find out everything he could—what Ward had done with the house, the bills, his money. Where his ex-wife was. Why his sister couldn’t take Connor, all of it—and Nate had been led to a comfortable enough room in Administrative Detention.

He’d only gone back to Unit NF once to get his belongings. The officers had made everyone leave the dormitory, so Nate could have as much time as he needed to clean out his locker without having to answer a bunch of questions.

Questions he didn’t have the answers to.

The Warden had learned that Ward had left everything to Nate. Absolutely everything, and he’d left him a long letter too, explaining everything. The Warden didn’t have it and couldn’t get it until that morning, when Lawrence the lawyer showed up again.

Nate had the letter now, but he needed complete privacy to study it again. He’d only had time to read it once, and he’d been sniffling when his Unit Manager had knocked and come inside.

Greg’s last words to Nate still tickled in his ears.Don’t be the same man leaving as you were coming in.

Nate didn’t feel like he was, and he’d taken the card Greg had given him. It was a professional business card, but Greg had put his personal number on the back. “Call anytime, Nate. Day or night.”

They’d hugged, and Nate had walked out with Connor. Easy as that. Too bad no one told him every step would be like torture. No one had told him the guilt would threaten to drown him as he left River Bay—and all the friends he’d made inside.

He’d left letters for Ted, Dallas, and Slate. The three men he was closest to. Ted had brought another man into their fold too, not long ago. Luke—not Lucas. That last bit was really important to the guy, and the reason he found himself in a low security facility with men who’d committed much worse crimes than assault with intent.

His crew. His friends. The Mulbury Boys Greg had called them. His throat closed again, and Nate didn’t know how to deal with all the issues streaming through him. He’d thought he’d had problems before, but he now knew how simple prison had made his life.

Nate blinked as Connor said, “Uncle Nate, my zipper’s stuck.”

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