Free Montana Creeds: Tyler by Linda Lael Miller Page B

What’s next? ‘This town ain’t big enough for both of us’?”
    Davie ducked his head at that, like he was expecting a blow.
    And that made Tyler want to tear Roy’s head off, right there in the restaurant. He’d end up as an overnight guest of the sheriff’s if he did, a prospect he didn’t relish after the last experience five years before, but the temptation was fierce just the same.
    Roy grunted, shook his head once, like a man plagued by a swarm of flies, and then turned and lumbered out.
    â€œHe’ll get you, Tyler,” Davie said pragmatically. “He’ll get me, too. He’s like that.”
    â€œI know what he’s like,” Tyler said, watching Roy disappear.
    When he was gone, Doreen came out of hiding. She looked sheepish and scared as hell. Davie didn’t have to go home—Tyler would hand-deliver the kid to the child-protection people before he’d see that happen—but she did.
    â€œYou go back and wait in the employees’ lounge,” she told Davie, showing a faint semblance of the old Doreen, the one who’d lived wild and free. “Roy won’t be able to get at you there.”
    Davie hesitated, nodded and left the table, then the restaurant.
    Tyler gestured for Doreen to sit down. Both of themcould have wished for a more private place to hold the forthcoming conversation, but it wasn’t to be, and Tyler, for one, was resigned to that.
    Doreen slid into the booth, hunching in the same way Davie had.
    Tyler sat down across from her. Drew a deep breath.
    â€œThings are pretty bad, I guess,” he said, when Doreen didn’t speak.
    She nodded. “Worse than bad.”
    â€œIs he mine?” The words were out before Tyler had a chance to think them over. Not that thinking would have changed anything, but he might have been more diplomatic.
    For a few moments, Doreen pretended not to understand. Tyler simply stared her down.
    â€œNo,” she finally said. “Davie isn’t yours. I wish he was, though. God, how I wish he was.”
    Tyler felt a combination of relief and disappointment, and he still wasn’t fully convinced that Doreen was telling the truth. “How old is Davie?” he asked quietly.
    â€œThirteen,” Doreen admitted, after some lip-biting and some hand-wringing.
    â€œThe math works,” Tyler said.
    Doreen gave a rueful little laugh. Raised and lowered her stooped shoulders. “Yeah,” she said. “For a lot of guys, Ty. Not just you. Davie belongs to a trucker who stopped by Skivvie’s one summer night, crying in his beer because his wife didn’t understand him. I cheered him up. And Davie looks just like him.”
    â€œOkay,” Tyler said. “So why do you let the boyfriend bounce Davie off walls?”
    Tears filled Doreen’s eyes. “I’ve been fighting things all my life,” she said. “One day, I just ran out of fight.”
    â€œTough break for Davie,” Tyler said evenly.
    â€œYou think I don’t hate myself for that? For all of it?” Doreen straightened her spine a little—though not enough, unfortunately. “I never expected to end up like this. I could have had an abortion—Davie’s father offered to pay for one—but I had this crazy idea that I’d find a good man someday. Davie and I and the prince.” She laughed again. “What a fairy tale.”
    â€œLet me take Davie home with me. Just for a while. Until you can get things under control.”
    Doreen stared at him, clearly amazed. “Why? Why would you do that?”
    â€œBecause I was a kid once, with a crazy father,” Tyler said, as surprised to say what he did as Doreen probably was to hear him admit it. He’d been in denial about Jake Creed all his life, even written songs about him, for Christ’s sake. “What you’re doing now isn’t working, Doreen. Time to try something