He nods at that. “She’s gentle. Kids need that. Lots of people need that.”
“Yeah, they do.”
“She’s not always snarky like she was earlier,” Lincoln adds.
I smile a little. “I get it. That’s sibling stuff. Family stuff is always… different. Special. I’m sure you don’t actually run out of family dinners after twenty minutes.” I’m not sure what makes me add that last part, and I want to kick myself a little. We’re not close enough to be teasing. We’re not close at all. I can count on one hand the number of conversations Lincoln and I have had together, and this is the only one where it’s just been the two of us.
But Lincoln doesn’t seem bothered. He snorts a little, like he’s amused. “I do, sometimes. But it’s not as bad as Lainey makes it sound. My mom just still treats me like I’m twelve, so she worries, and she passes that worry on to Lainey. Lainey gives me shit for having to deal with it.”
“Ah, I see. Is your dad the same?”
He shakes his head. “My dad is a retired firefighter. He’s seen too much shit to worry all that much. But he likes it when I come around because it makes Mom happy.”
There’s that ache again. Thinking about a happy family. “You guys must be close,” I murmur.
“Yeah, mostly. That sort of happens when you—” He stops, cutting himself off mid-sentence.
I tip my head to the side, watching him fiddle with the taps curiously. “When you what?” I ask. There was something heavy in his voice just then, and it stands out to me. Like he was about to talk about loss or some tragedy.
He catches me looking and shrugs.
“You don’t share all of your history,” he says. “I figure I don’t need to share all of mine either.”
I blink, caught off guard by him saying that so openly, but then nod, a little smile playing around my mouth. He’s right. I’m grateful that he hasn’t pressed me for details about where I came from or why I’m so eager to keep moving. It wouldn’t be fair of me to try to push him to tell me more about himself when I definitely don’t plan on returning the favor.
Still, as we keep prepping, I can’t help but wonder what shadows Lincoln is carrying around.
Chapter 6
Lincoln
It’s a pretty quiet night at the bar, no one being rowdy, just the regulars coming in and out for their drinks, and some others padding out the crowd. It’s a good night to watch Harper work, and I keep finding my eyes drawn to her as the night goes on.
She’s a good worker. Everett said so before, but I’m seeing it for myself tonight. She keeps her head down for the most part, working with a quiet sort of efficiency that makes everything run smoother. She sets things up for herself so that when she needs to grab a glass or a bottle to refill someone’s drink, she never has to move far from her spot, and she works quickly. I notice that she’s already remembering which drinks the regulars like, surprising a few by asking them if they want their usuals without having to ask twice.
Some people chat with her, and she keeps the conversations friendly, but surface level, earning tips from the ones who like to talk and the ones who don’t alike. It’s a good skill for a bartender, and she manages it well.
Despite the quiet, people seem to be in the mood to linger well after Harper announces last call. They talk to each other and to her, nodding to me when they pass by my perch. It takeslonger than it usually does to close tonight, but Harper doesn’t complain.
She keeps smiling, keeps stacking glasses, and putting away bottles, even though it’s pretty obvious that she’s tired on her feet.
When we finally get to flip the chairs and lock up, she sighs with relief, and I watch as she makes her way to the back office to get Cora. The little girl is curled up in a nest of blankets, courtesy of Lainey, completely zonked out and clutching onto her ratty elephant like her life depends on it.
Harper crouches down next to her and strokes her hair back from her face. “Hey, sweetheart,” she whispers. “You ready to go?”
Cora doesn’t say anything, she never does, but she blinks at Harper and nods, yawning hugely for her small face. Harper helps her up and pulls her into her arms, holding her close along with all her stuff.
I know they’re staying at the shitty motel down the way, and it’s not a long way from here, but it is late and a good bit to walk while carrying a small child. Especially after being on her feet for hours.
“I can give you a ride back to the motel,” I tell Harper as she steps out of the office. “If you want. It’s late, and you look dead on your feet.”
“No, that’s okay,” Harper replies automatically. Not surprising. She has an independent streak a few miles wide, and I can tell that something or someone has made her wary of relying on other people. I can understand that. But at the same time…
“You’ll have to carry Cora the whole way,” I tell her, nodding to the little girl. “And yourself.”
“I can manage,” she says firmly.
“Don’t doubt it. But it’s nearly one in the morning, and Silver Falls might be safe, but that doesn’t mean a tired Omega should be walking the streets with a sleeping kid. Not everyone has good intentions, even here. Let me drive you.”