McCoy considered sitting on this bench until he starved to death. If he took the painkillers in his pocket, he probably wouldn’t notice hunger or cold. Three weeks ago, he had a hot girlfriend, a new direction, and a great car. The job he’d moved halfway across the country for was promising to lead him toward the future he’d always wanted. He would have been the boss of this building site. Not bad considering he wasn’t yet thirty.

Somehow one wreck had washed away all of his chalkboard dreams.

The janitor, who had cleaned his hospital room, walked by. “Evening Mr. Mason.” The short man grinned as if they were old friends. “You finally getting out of this place or did one of them nurses just leave you out here by accident?”

McCoy smiled. “Evening, Roberto. I’m going to miss your great jokes. Most days you were the only one who talked to me other than the nurses asking questions.”

Roberto set a lunchbox on the bench as he zipped a gray jacket that matched his uniform. As always, he seemed to have time to talk. “That pretty, long-legged blonde picking you up? I wouldn’t mind hanging around to see her.”

“No, she’s gone. Moved back to Georgia. She left me with a bag of old clothes and what I’m wearing.”

“You got family around?” Roberto might be short and forty pounds overweight, but he was one of the heroes in this life. He cared. “Friends picking you up?”

“Nope. My dad’s in Alaska. He told me I’ve got a grandfather in some little town called Honey Creek. I couldn’t even find the place on a map when I looked years ago.”

“I know where that is.” Roberto smiled. “My primo lives there. Runs a garage.” He pushed his chest out. “I’ve got cousins in half the towns in Texas.”

“Must be nice,” McCoy lied.

Roberto asked a few more questions and then seemed to take over McCoy’s life. “If you don’t know where to go, you should head up to meet your abuelo. He’d probably be glad to see you. He’s kin. He can’t turn you away.”

“I doubt that’s a rule for my relatives. My family tree is more a fence post.”

“My primo says the folks in Honey Creek are friendly. While you’re not doing anything, you should look him up.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“What else you got to do? There’s a bus that heads that way around midnight. I could drop you off at the station. It’s not far.”

To McCoy’s surprise, Roberto picked up the duffel bag. “Wait here, I’ll get my truck and take you. You’ll be in Honey Creek by dawn. You got forty-three bucks for the ride?”

McCoy hesitated.

Roberto stared at McCoy. “You got any better place to be?”