Uriah was just being nice, trying to include him. Tobias didn’t want him acting out of obligation, though—not when he had the opportunity to enjoy a meal with his son after being estranged for so many years. Rebuilding that relationship took precedence over all else.

“I’d love to, but I’ve already got other plans,” he said. “Maya’s invented another cookie. She wants me to rush right over and give it a try.”

Uriah’s craggy face registered a hint of understanding, as though he knew Tobias was trying to make himself scarce. “You sure you won’t have a quick bite before you go? There’s plenty…”

“No, I’ll grab something in town. Do you need groceries or anything else while I’m out?”

The orchard where they lived wasn’t more than ten minutes from the store. It wasn’t a big deal to make a supply run. But, as a matter of convenience, they often did this kind of favor for each other. “Gallon of milk would be good, if you happen to remember.”

“You got it,” Tobias said and pretended not to see Carl scowling at him from Uriah’s porch as he backed down the drive.

After scouting out the alley behind Sugar Mama to be sure Susan’s car wasn’t there, Tobias parked down the street from the store, so that no one would see his truck directly in front of it. He was just getting out when he heard his phone ping. He’d gotten another text.

He assumed it was from Maya, that she was wondering if he was coming or not since he’d never replied to her first message. But when he dug his phone from his pocket, he could see that it was from a number he didn’t recognize.

I shouldn’t call him, right?

Call who? he wondered. Since there was no introduction, no preface to that one sentence, Tobias at first assumed it was a wrong number. He almost wrote back to say as much, but then he remembered giving his number to Harper Devlin this morning.

This couldn’t be her, could it?

Who’s ‘him’? he texted back so he wouldn’t have to ask, “Who’s this?”

Axel.

He stiffened. Sure enough, it was Harper. She’d reached out to him. Instead of heading to the store, he leaned against his truck while he responded. You realize that by texting me, you’ve given me your number.

Yes, but you don’t know where I’m staying. Anyway, you said you weren’t dangerous.

Define dangerous.

Any kind of threat to my well-being.

Then I’m not dangerous.

There was a long pause before she wrote: Under what kind of definition would you be dangerous?