Wyatt’s brow practically shot up to his hairline. “Your what?”

“It’s not a date, Wyatt.”

His entire body stiffened. “Who’s here to pick you up?”

There was no easy way to tell him this. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid. “Marco.”

His jaw tensed. “Marco.”

“Like I said, it’s not a date.”

“Well, whatever it is, you’re takin’ your work clothes, so you’re clearly plannin’ on spendin’ all day with him.”

Crap. I hadn’t thought this through. If Marco dropped me off at the tavern, I wouldn’t have a way home. I could ask Ruth, but she’d probably get off early since she was going in at noon, and asking Max for a ride probably wasn’t a good idea.

“Can you give me a ride home tonight?”

His eyes narrowed. “So you are spendin’ the entire day with him?”

“Yeah,” I said, starting to get pissed. “I am. Lula’s missin’ and he’s helpin’ me look for her.”

“Yeah,” he said in disgust, “I bet he is.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“We all know that if Lula took off, she’s nowhere around here. He’s playin’ you, Carly.”

I put my hand on my hip. “Excuse me?”

“He’s pandering to you so he can spend time with you.”

I released a short laugh. “Are you seriously suggesting Marco is makin’ up a reason to spend time with me?”

“Why is that so unbelievable?” he asked. “You’re a beautiful woman, Carly Moore. He’d be a fool not to want you.”

“What makes you think that he can’t respect me and Lula as people enough to genuinely want to help? And did you forget that Marco almost died trying to save us from Carson?”

He hesitated and I could see the thoughts shifting across his face, followed by dawning recognition. “Shit, I didn’t mean to imply…”

He looked so contrite I couldn’t hide my smile.

“What’s so damn funny?”

“You.” Poor word choices aside, I didn’t actually think Wyatt was misogynistic. He’d always seemed to respect me. And although the timing wasn’t right, I genuinely did want to know why he was here this morning—who he was protecting and what he was now willing to share.

I reached up and gave him a soft kiss. “This doesn’t mean we’re back together. It means I’m willing to hear what you have to tell me. Tonight. When you pick me up from the tavern at midnight to bring me home.”

I started to walk away, but he grabbed my arms and hauled me back, pulling me to his chest and kissing me with fierce possession.

When he lifted his head, I stared up at him in a daze. This man made me feel things I hadn’t known I was capable of feeling.

His dark brown eyes held mine in an intense gaze. “That was to remind you that I fight for what’s mine,” he said in a husky tone.

“And I suspect it was partially for my benefit as well.” Marco was leaning on his crutches by the front door, dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark gray jacket. He had a perfect view of the two of us in the kitchen doorway, and a tickled grin lit up his eyes.

I wasn’t sure whether to be amused by Wyatt’s insecurity or irritated that he was trying to stake his claim.

I pulled away from him, deciding not to address it at all. “I haven’t changed Hank’s compression bandage. And he needs someone to massage around the incision site. He hates it, but it’ll help the scarring and dispel some of the phantom pain, even though he might have convinced you otherwise.”

His grimace was confirmation I’d guessed right on that one. “Consider it done.”

Marco set his crutches against the wall and lifted my coat off the coat-tree. Balancing on one leg, he held it open for me to put on.

“Say, Wyatt,” I said as I slipped my arms into the coat. “Did you hire Ginger to clean the house?”

“Yeah,” he said in a rough voice, his gaze on Marco. “You’ve been workin’ so many hours. It seemed like a lot, especially since you’ve been cooking and paying for the meals, so it’s a win for both of you, especially since Junior’s youngest is racking up some medical bills they’re struggling to pay.”

“But cleaning the house is part of my bargain with Hank. Have you told him?”

“Not yet. I’ll do it today, but he’ll be all right with it. He likes Ginger and he appreciates everything you do.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

I still didn’t feel right, but I wasn’t going to argue about it in front of Marco. They were doing enough posturing already.

Marco grabbed his crutches and nodded to the door. “Shall we? I’m starvin’.”

I picked up my bag and purse and followed him out. He was already down the porch steps when I got outside, so I gave Hank a quick goodbye and headed for Marco’s SUV.

Wyatt leaned against a post, watching me get into Marco’s Explorer. Once I was in, I dropped my bag of clothes onto the backseat.

Marco tossed his crutches into the back, then jumped up into the driver’s seat. After he started the engine, he gave Wyatt a flippant wave and a grin.

Wyatt scowled in return.

“Sorry about him,” I said as Marco backed up and headed to the street.

“I thought you said you two broke up,” he said.

“We’re not back together, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

He chuckled. “You sure Wyatt got that memo?”

I groaned. “It’s complicated.”

“Hey,” he said with a laugh. “No skin off my back, either way. But Wyatt can be a stubborn ass, and I like you, Carly, so my brotherly advice is don’t take any shit from him.”

“Thanks. I won’t. I’m basically givin’ him another chance to make things right and share his past. If he doesn’t come clean, it’s really over.”

“You sure that’s gonna work?” he asked. “Because you two seem to have trouble stayin’ away from each other.”

The thought had occurred to me. “Well, if Max actually fires me, then leavin’ Drum might be the answer.”

“You’re thinkin’ about leavin’ Drum?” he asked in surprise. “And why would Max fire you?”

“There’s something else I need to tell you. Greta paid me a visit at the bar last night.”

He shifted in his seat and shot me a glance. “What?”

I filled him in on what she’d told me about the second possible father of Lula’s baby.

“So you want to head to Ewing?”

“Yeah, I hope that’s okay.”

“We have the whole day,” he said. “So we can go where we need to go.”

“We’d planned on eating breakfast at Watson’s”—indeed, he was already driving there—“but I doubt Greta has anything else to share, so we don’t have to go there now.”

“Hell yeah, we’re still goin’ there,” he said as though I’d suggested we stop breathing. “They have the best biscuits and gravy in Hensen County. We can’t let you pass up the opportunity to try ’em, especially since you’re talkin’ about leavin’ Drum. Now tell me what happened with Max.”