How could he ever pay the loan back?

For that matter, how could he save his house? His wife had no idea that they could soon lose their home, and everything they’d worked for.

Troy had listened to all this over a dinner of steak and whiskey. He paid for the dinner. The judge had no money.

The judge knew Troy had money.

What was a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar loan between friends? Hadn’t Troy gone to school with his daughter Susie? (And no, Troy hadn’t. Brock had.)

Troy hadn’t told the judge yes. But he hadn’t told him no. He had to think about it. Had to figure out where the money would come from, and be realistic about McCorkle’s ability to pay him back.

The judge might not ever be able to pay him back.

This wasn’t the first time Troy was approached by a Marietta individual needing assistance. It wouldn’t be the last.

As Troy entered Grey’s, he spotted a half dozen different people he knew. Callan Carrigan was in the far back, shooting pool, with a couple of Brock’s young hired hands. Dawson O’Dell and a young off duty sheriff were eating burgers at a table on one side, while McKenna and Taylor were having drinks on the other side.

Interesting, seeing McKenna and Taylor together. He knew from last night that they were going dress shopping together but he hadn’t expected to see them.

They were talking, quite seriously, from the looks of things. He hoped they’d had a good evening. McKenna would be a good friend for Taylor. McKenna didn’t bullshit and she wasn’t superficial, and she was the first to stand up for the underdog.

Even more interesting was seeing McKenna head his way now.

“Hey,” McKenna said, coming to the bar counter to greet him.

“Hey, yourself,” he said, sliding off the stool. “Hello, Taylor,” he added, nodding at the librarian who was hanging back, as if to give them space. Troy turned his attention to McKenna. “You okay?”

She tucked a long dark red strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry about last night.”

“It’s fine.”

“I wanted to talk to you, but it’s… weird.”

“I get it.”

She shook her head, jaw set, frustration evident. “It’s always such a shock… seeing you… even now. I know you can’t help looking like him, the rat bastard.”

Troy reached out and folded McKenna into a quick hug. “The curse of being an identical twin,” he said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

“I should hate you,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

“You should.”

She looked up at him, smiling faintly, crookedly. “I don’t.”

“That’s good.” He released her, and watched as she stepped back, moving closer to Taylor. McKenna had been a very pretty girl and she’d grown into an absolutely stunning woman with long auburn hair, light green eyes, high cheekbones and a perfect chin, beneath perfect lips. But beneath her beauty was sadness. Her fire and courage didn’t completely mask her pain. McKenna had lived through a terrible tragedy and then she’d fallen in love with a man who couldn’t get his shit together long enough to protect her properly so that her wounds could heal. Instead Trey just kept hurting her, making the scars and pain worse.

“How’s TJ?” Troy asked. “Is he doing okay?”

“He’s smart as a whip. And a chip off the old block.”

“Lucky you.”

“Haha.”

Troy glanced at Taylor, not wanting to leave her out of the conversation and yet not sure how to include her, before focusing back on McKenna. “I’d love to come see him while I’m in town.