Page 12 of Truck Stop Titan

“Wait. I. Um.” I rubbed at the pinching pain in my temples. “I don’t understand. She was found. Where is she?”

“That’s the, um, sensitive part.” Mother and son exchanged glances. Tucker nodded for his mom to continue.

I listened while they explained how my niece was brought to them. How she hadn’t spoken a word since they’d found her. How she’d bonded with her rescuer, and he was the only person she’d allow near. They explained that my niece needed me, and how there was no legal record of her birth, nor of my sister’s death. They explained that if I came to claim my sister’s child, more laws would be broken.

They spoke as if they were giving me a choice. As if I might not want Mickey’s daughter. Because, of course, there were people who wouldn’t take in a troubled child even under normal circumstances.

“When can I see her?” I asked, my heart a thousand pounds lighter, despite the heaviness of the day.

“Moe,” Matthew’s voice echoed through the room. “We need to get going.”

Protective instincts welled inside me. I didn’t want Matthew knowing anything about these people, or anything about my niece. And God, that spoke volumes about our relationship, didn’t it?

“Go.” I waved him off. “I’ll Uber home. Be there soon.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. I have a few things to take care of here,” I lied, knowing he didn’t care enough to question.

“Okay.” He eyed Tucker, then Dr. Slade, offered a smile, then turned to leave. “See you in a bit.”

“When can I see her?” I asked again.

“How fast can you get to Idaho?”

“As fast as I can book a flight.”

“I’m so happy to hear that.” Dr. Slade pulled me into a hug. “Come on, we’ll give you a ride home. I can answer any of your questions on the way.”

# # #

“What’s your poison?” The bartender asked, tattooed arms planted on the bar, twisted grin lighting his features.

“Whiskey sour,” I said without hesitation because that’s what Mom used to drink, and I needed to drink in her honor.

“You new in town?” He snatched a tumbler from under the counter and got busy mixing my drink. “Don’t think I’ve seen you around.”

“My first time in Idaho.”

“Yeah?” he asked, cocking a brow, like everyone had been to Idaho. “Where you from?”

“Shelbyville, Illinois.”

“Well.” He slid the yellow concoction my way and offered a killer smile. “Welcome to Whisper Springs, Shelbyville. First drink is on me.”

“Thank you.” I noted the playful lilt of his smile. A well-practiced grin, for sure. That Hollywood mug had to earn him a killing on tips. “What’s good to eat?”

He made a quick assessment of my figure. “Buffalo sliders. You could use some meat on your bones.” His insult could’ve been mistaken for a compliment, paired with that show of white teeth and that heady gaze, so I gave him a pass. Besides, he’d hit the nail on the head. I’d lost more than thirty pounds since Mom got sick. I’d neglected my health worrying about hers. “Perfect. I’ll have the Buffalo sliders.”

He nodded and headed to the service window. I looked around for a table. When I found none, I claimed the closest barstool. My phone buzzed the moment I sat down.

Matt: You left?

Me: Yes

Matt: UR flight was scheduled for tomorrow

Me: Couldn’t wait another day

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