“I told you she was,” his mother said, entering the room behind Sam.
“And you’re over there helping her? Helping her do what?”
“Dan,” his mother said quietly, to calm him.
“The house is in pretty bad shape. Today I was helping her put a tarp on the roof. She’s got a pretty bad leak. And that house is so full of old stuff she’s trying to get rid of it. She can’t do it alone.” He didn’t add that he’d also been going to Rumrunners to watch over her. His father would not like the idea of him hanging out at a bar, even if his intentions were good.
“I am sure she can. That girl was always very headstrong.”
Sam didn’t recall that, but he did remember that his parents blamed her for Susan sneaking out of the house to go party in the swamp with some high school boys. He knew his sister wasn’t hundred percent innocent. Probably not even fifty percent. But his dad’s attitude toward Erielle all these years later surprised him. His dad had lost some of his filters with the brain injury, but Sam hadn’t thought he’d lost his empathy.
“She doesn’t have anyone else.”
His dad snorted. “She kind of made that bed for herself, didn’t she?”
He wasn’t going to let his dad slide with this. They’d let a lot slide, actually, since the fall, but this, no. He wasn’t going to let his dad tell him to turn his back on someone who needed help. Someone he liked, someone his dad didn’t even know anymore.
“I don’t know what you think you know about her. If you’re basing this on what you remember about her from over a decade ago, or what you think you know about her from the television show, but that’s not who she is. She’s a hard worker, she’s having a hard time, and she doesn’t deserve to deal with this all on her own.”
His father set his jaw in an expression Sam had come to know all too well these past few months. An expression that was going to send Sam storming out, leaving his mother to soothe the man on her own. Sam squared his shoulders, then recognized his own rising temper wasn’t going to solve the issue.
“What is she having to deal with?” his mother asked, taking a seat in the recliner next to Dan.
Sam took a moment to breathe, to not just react. “Her grandfather had so many books. Boxes and boxes of them. She can’t take care of them all by herself. And there are some repairs that need to be done to make the place comfortable.”
“Is she going to stay? Or sell?”
“She hasn’t said. I don’t think she’s considering selling, at least right now, not in the shape it’s in. And she seems to want the connection to her grandparents.”
“She could have had that,” his father said.
“She realizes it,” Sam said. “She has regrets. She’s a good person. Just...kind of lost right now.”
“Not your place to help her find herself.”
“That doesn’t sound like something a preacher should say,” Sam retorted, and watched his dad’s eyes flare.
“Don’t you tell me what you think a preacher should say when you only attend services under duress.”
Sam tried not to flinch at that. Sure, he’d gotten away from going to services when he moved to the city. There was always a reason not to go. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t retained what he’d been taught, and he thought he was doing a pretty good job of living up to those standards. He understood why his dad was acting this way, but he couldn’t reconcile it with the man he’d grown up with.
“We know why you want to help her,” his father said. “We’ve seen her pictures all over everywhere. She’s a beautiful woman. I don’t know what you think you’ll get from a relationship with her.”
“All I know is that she needs help, and I’m going to help her, no matter what you think my motivations are.”
The silence that followed was heavy. He hated leaving things like this, hated the widening rift between them. He’d only come hoping for a clean shirt, maybe even a civil conversation.
So he drew another breath, steadied himself, and said, “While I’m here—and in a helping mood—anything I can do for you two?”
Fourteen
Sam killedthe engine and sat for a moment, watching Pirate back the tow truck into the gravel drive. The steady beep-beep cut through the humid stillness of the night, loud enough to make him wince. Out here, noise carried. If any neighbors happened to look out their windows, he’d never be able to explain why he was sneaking around Erielle’s place with a tow truck in the middle of the night.
At least she was still at the bar. She wouldn’t hear the racket.
Sam walked through the yard to get to the detached garage, tested the lock and found it open. Maybe Erielle was hoping thieves would empty it out. He couldn’t blame her.
Pirate jumped out of the cab of the tow truck and slammed the door like he’d never heard of being sneaky in his life.
