My brother steps beside me onto the porch, wordlessly. “Hello again,” I offer.
The man tips his hat. He’s not smiling. Not even scowling. He looks .?.?. scared.
“Sorry to barge in on you like this again. I’m here to see Dallas.”
“How can I help you?” My brother moves down the steps. He hasn’t bothered to change or do much of anything since I told him he’s got a visitor.
The man surveys him skeptically. “You’re Dallas Thorne?”
Well, this isn’t going anywhere good.
“Way I see it, you can either believe me or you can leave. No skin off my back if you do,” my brother quips.
“Cole. Cole Hartly. That’s Ellie.”
Dallas glances back at the little girl, who’s wandered off to sit on the bench outside my porch.
“What do you need from me?”
The man scans him again. “You don’t .?.?. look so good.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t ask for your opinion. Any reason you stalkin’ me?”
After a beat, Cole shakes his head. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry. Come on, Ellie.”
Dallas takes two steps toward the man. “Hey, wait a second. You take one look at me in a state of mourning and decide I’m not worth whatever it is you came here twice to say or do?”
That’s what I like about Dallas. He doesn’t hold back. Calls people out the way they deserve to be. Some of them at least.
“Three times,” Cole corrects.
“Sure sounds important. What, do I owe you money? Wreck your bar during a fight recently?”
Cole chuckles with a headshake, as if to say this just keeps getting better.
“A few years back, you .?.?.” He glances at the girl. “.?.?. you were briefly involved with my daughter, Tammy.”
I move down the steps, my heart in my throat.
“I’m sorry, I don’t remember.” Dallas sounds sincere, and I can vouch for his lack of memory. He’s not good with faces or people—unless you work for him or are directly related.
Cole removes a picture from his wallet. “Tammy Hartly.”
Dallas stares at it, his tone softening. “The singer.”
“She was. Died three years ago.”
My brother’s fingers tremble as he hands the photo back to Cole. “I’m sorry for your loss. She was a great girl. I didn’t know her all that well, but she had one hell of a voice.”
Cole smiles. “She did. That’s her daughter, Ellie.”
Dallas’s head turns to the girl. Then back slowly. “Why you here?”
Cole’s boot drags along the gravel, casually, like he’s not about to drop a bomb. “Tammy said she’s yours.”
Dallas shakes his head. “That’s impossible. I don’t have—I would have known.”
“Don’t worry.” He sweeps his eyes over him again. “We’re not leaving her with you—not yet.”
