Free The Wanderer by Robyn Carr Page A

weirdest interaction he’d ever had. He sounded like his father.
    The kid’s chin dropped again. “I’m not hiding behind my sister, dude. Besides, she’s got her own troubles.”
    Cooper, who had big sisters, absolutely got that. But all he said was, “Is this ‘dude’ thing almost over? Calling everyone dude? I never caught on to that....”
    “Well, dude, you might wanna catch up.”
    “Or you might,” he said. “So, anyone back you up? I mean, anyone? Teachers? Ministers? Corrections officers?”
    “Funny. You’re a real comedian.”
    “I am, huh. But I’m serious, everyone needs a wingman. I got in fights when I was your age. I don’t know what it was about me....”
    “Want a second opinion?” he said.
    Cooper laughed at his sarcasm. “Okay, never mind. I think I’m catching on.”
    “Ben,” Landon said. “Ben was my friend.”
    Stunned, Cooper was silent. Then he put a hand on Landon’s shoulder. “He was my friend, too. I’m sorry, man.”
    “Yeah. Well. Whatever happened? It shouldn’t have.”
    He gathered strays, Cooper thought. He gave Rawley work, protected Landon and made sure Gina’s Jeep was running. Who knew how many others he helped? He protected the birds and fish. He had a lot of friends and no real friends. He took care of the town in his way, keeping this little piece of beach safe.

Five
     
    T he weather turned stormy not long after Landon finally made his escape across the beach to the town. The bait shop could get pretty lonely during a storm. Cooper guessed that with the wet Oregon weather, there were plenty of nights like this. So he showered in the trailer, then took the truck the short way into town, across the beach, and decided it was time to hit Cliffhanger’s for a meal.
    It wasn’t crowded, which came as no surprise. He had watched the fishing boats come in before the rain clouds and the last of the sunlight left the bay, and he supposed those guys were happy to be home, eating a hot meal in front of a warm fire. There was a large hearth in the restaurant that could be seen in the bar and it made him think of Jack’s place in Virgin River. A lot could be done to that old bait shop of Ben’s to make it a cozier hangout—like a fireplace, for starters, he thought. Then he told himself to stop it—no matter what some piece of paper said, he really had no stake in it. He was only going through the motions for Ben’s sake. For some reason, his old friend trusted him.
    He hadn’t expected to see a familiar face in the restaurant, so he was pleasantly surprised when he realized Mac was sitting at the bar, nursing a beer and talking to the bartender. He wasn’t dressed for duty tonight. Cooper approached and said, “Hey, Deputy.”
    “Cooper,” he said, putting out his hand. “What brings you out on such a wet night?”
    “Food,” he said, sitting up at the bar.
    “Cliff, bring my friend Cooper a beer.”
    “Cliff?” Cooper repeated with a short laugh. “That’s convenient.”
    “Yeah, right,” the guy said. “What’s your pleasure?”
    “Draft,” Cooper said. “This must be your place, Cliff.”
    “Must be. Menu?”
    “Thanks.”
    “Just get the grouper,” Mac said.
    Cooper peered at him. “And how do I want that done?”
    “He’ll have the grouper. Just trust me. So, what’s happening on the other side of the beach?”
    “Got most of the smell out, went through most of Ben’s things, donated, threw away stuff, you know. It’s not functional. Ben was working on that septic system way back when I was waiting for him to meet me in California. I guess he never quite got it fixed,” Cooper said.
    “So, what next?”
    Cooper drank some beer. “I don’t know. I’m thinking. I pulled down part of a wall—I don’t know if there’s mold or rot. Maybe it needs to be leveled. I don’t know.”
    “You’re still here,” Mac observed.
    He took another swallow of beer and shook his head. “Feels like unfinished business around here. I