My cell phone buzzed in my back pocket. I reached for it, then swiped it open when I saw Dorothy’s name pop up.

“Camden?”

“Hi, Dorothy. Did you get that list of home care providers I left yesterday?” I asked, checking the date on the closest battery.

“You mean the one you left in the mailbox because you were too chicken to come in?”

A smile lifted the corners of my mouth. “Yep, that’s the one.”

“I did, and I passed it along to Alexander. Now, you asked me to call if he was having a good day, just like I did yesterday and the day before.”

Pressure settled in my chest. “And he’s having another one today?”

“Well, he knows you’re here and remembered kicking you out last week, so I’d say yes.”

Silence stretched longer than the half mile between our houses.

“Camden Daniels, are you coming down here?”

My head rolled as my eyes drifted skyward. “Is he going to scream at me from the porch like he did yesterday?”

“Probably.”

I could practically see her shrugging from here. “Okay, I’ll be there soon.”

“I’ll let him know.”

“I’ll get my bulletproof vest.”

I hung up the phone, noting that the solar batteries were dated from nine years ago. That gave me another six years, more or less, before they expired.

“You really were prepared for exile, weren’t you, Uncle Cal?” I asked aloud.

Depending on anyone else is what will get you, Cam. You have to be self-sufficient in every area of your life.

The advice he’d given me when I was fourteen answered for him.

After hurrying through a shower and parking the Scout back in the protection of the garage, I headed over to Dad’s in the Jeep.

Winds had picked up again, making the pine trees sway. Weather must be moving in. Score one for not being on the town’s electricity grid.

I pulled through the tree line and stopped in front of Dad’s, putting the Jeep into park. Then I mentally strapped on whatever armor I had with a resigned sigh and headed for the door.

I’d no more climbed the steps than Dad burst through the front door, dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans, hair combed, waving his finger at me.

“You’re not welcome here, Camden. I told you that yesterday.”

I pushed back my instinctive fuck-you response, stopping on the last step. “I’m here to help.”

“The hell you are! You ruin everything you help, so excuse me if I don’t want it.” His eyes were wild with emotion but not dementia.

“You know, you’re a lot nicer when you don’t know who I am.”

“Get off my land before I—”

“Before you what? Shoot me?” I put my hands up. “We’ve already done that once, so try something a little more creative, would you?”