Hank started to protest, but something in Wyatt’s gaze must have moved him because he gave me a sharp nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be here as early as Wyatt gets me here,” I said with a tight smile.

Tears filled his eyes again, and he glanced away. “See you then.”

I headed out in the hall, making my way toward the main entrance, my stomach in knots over my interaction with Wyatt. Sure, I was supposedly from Atlanta, but that didn’t explain the extent of his suspicion. Besides, he hadn’t reacted much to my Georgia plates at the outlook—he’d started acting weird after that, after I shut down the idea of calling the sheriff.

Something else stuck out at me.

Had Wyatt heard about the drug dealer from Atlanta? Did he think I was somehow connected to them?

Surely Wyatt wouldn’t have heard anything about that—Max had only heard about it this morning, from his deputy friend. Yet I couldn’t ignore the fact that Wyatt had sat with Bingham’s crowd last night. If Wyatt did know about that dealer, it was simple enough to figure out how he’d have known.

A shiver of apprehension had me stopping in my tracks. Why was Wyatt here? Surely a surly man who had friends like Bingham didn’t pay friendly visits to grieving old men in hospitals. I didn’t want to put words to the whirl of thoughts in my head. Surely there was nothing to fear, leaving Hank alone in the room with Wyatt. But what if there was?

My heart was racing, and I felt a pull to return to Hank’s room like a hook on the back of my neck. I nearly ran back, but something stopped me. Hank was a tough man, but his eyes had softened at the sight of Wyatt.

Hank trusted him.

So I went down to the lobby instead. I tried to call Ruth, but it went straight to voicemail. I left her a message and then sent a text for good measure, saying I was done and would wait for her in the hospital lobby.

I started to call my friends in Arkansas, but then hung up before it could ring. Every time I made contact with them, I put us all in danger. Not to mention, Rose and Neely Kate would be worried sick if they thought I was in trouble. They’d want to do something, and there was nothing to be done. They had enough troubles—they didn’t need to step between me and my ruthless father. Besides, while I couldn’t leave Drum, I hadn’t been arrested. It was a stalemate. No use putting them through unnecessary worry.

All that was left to do was wait. I was about to take a seat when I realized I hadn’t checked my bank account balance since leaving Gatlinburg. I’d remembered seeing an ATM by the elevator, so I walked over to it and fed it my debit card, then followed the prompts to check my balance. I wanted to weep when I saw $1363.27 on the screen. I’d thought there would be at least three or four hundred more.

“What are you up to?” I heard Wyatt ask behind me.

I pressed cancel on the screen, then grabbed my debit card when it popped out. “This is an ATM machine, which is commonly used to get cash.” I turned around to face him. “Or do they not have ATM machines in Drum? Want me to show you how to use it?”

It was a bitchy thing to say, but I was tired of defending myself to him.

“Got enough money to pay for those car repairs?” he asked in a dry tone.

I propped a hand on my hip. “I’d be able to tell you if I had an estimate, which I’m guessing is hard to come up with if you’re an hour away from my car.”

“Ever consider the fact that I might have another mechanic workin’ on it back in Drum?”

Why hadn’t I considered that?

“Care to tell me why you decided to show up in Hank Chalmers’ hospital room?” he asked.

“I thought we’d both made it pretty clear,” I said. “Seth wanted me to give Hank a message.” While I would have loved nothing more than to talk flippantly about this to piss Wyatt off, I couldn’t do it. I was talking about the senseless death of a teenage boy. “After my mother died, I wanted to know every detail. Was someone with her? Was she scared? I couldn’t save Seth, but at least I could tell Hank that his grandson didn’t die alone.”

His gaze hardened. “You were with him when he died? I thought he was dead when you got to him.”

My eyes burned with tears. For some reason, it mattered that he didn’t seem to like me, although I didn’t want it to. Now I’d gone and given him personal information, my personal information. Charlene Moore’s mother was supposed to be alive and well in Grand Rapids. And, fool that I was, I was more upset that he’d responded with scorn than that I’d opened my mouth in the first place.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out, scanning the screen. It was a text from Ruth: So sorry! Running one hour late. Tell Max you’ll be late for lunch.

I turned away from Wyatt and started walking back into the main part of the lobby, trying to figure out what to do. I suspected Ruth was right about the tavern drawing a big crowd, and I didn’t see how Max could handle it on his own. I told myself that it wasn’t my concern. Twenty-four hours ago, I hadn’t known any of these people.

Twenty-four hours ago, I’d been completely alone.

I sat in a chair, racking my brain for a solution that would get me back to Drum on time. I could rent a car, but then I’d have to bring it back because I was fairly certain there wasn’t a car rental return center in Drum. Not to mention it was an expense I couldn’t afford.

“How’d you get down here to Greeneville?” Wyatt asked, standing in front of me.

“It’s not your concern, Wyatt,” I said, refusing to look up at him.

He squatted in front of me, his expression softer. “Carly. How’d you get down here?”

I glanced away from him, fighting the urge to cry. “Ruth.”

“Is she comin’ to pick you up?”

“Not for at least another hour.”

“I heard you were working the lunch shift at Max’s.”

A fire lit in my gut. “Checking out my schedule now?” I snapped.

Was he really that worried that I wouldn’t be able to pay him?

To my surprise, he didn’t erupt at my hateful tone. Instead, a wry smile twitched at the corners of his lips. “It’s a small town. Sometimes you find out things whether you want to know them or not.”

I believed that.

“I’m headed back to Drum. I’ll give you a ride.”

I shot him a glare. “You think I’m going to get in your truck with you after you just insulted me?”

“You’re gonna get in it tomorrow, so why not today?” His mouth twisted into a grin, his eyes warming. “Or maybe you plan on sittin’ here until tomorrow.”

“Ruth will be here in an hour,” I reminded him.

“Fine, suit yourself,” he said, but he didn’t sound insulted and he’d still made no attempt to stand. “But I promise not to insult you durin’ the drive if you change your mind.”

I looked him square in the eyes. “How do I know I can trust you, Wyatt Drummond?”

“How do I know I can trust you?” he countered. But his words didn’t hold the contempt he’d recently shown me.

“Maybe I haven’t earned your trust enough to give me your debit card pin or whatever, but I’ve given you absolutely no reason to distrust me,” I said, my attitude returning.