did. You thought you were protecting your daughter.”
The air he sucks in sounds broken.
He blinks several times. “I have my regrets. Plenty of ’em. But I’ll never regret not letting Clay Grendal get his hands on my Grace. He’ll have to kill me first.”
Anger roils my gut.
“What do you mean? I thought this was about money, witnesses, the fact that you’re both loose ends in an operation he needs to keep quiet?”
“Loose ends. Right. That’s what he wants so bad, Ridge. Not just me. Her.” The words leave his mouth like a dry rattle. “He...he thinks I’ve told her everything. But I haven’t.”
“What haven’t you told her, Nelson?” My hands form fists I hide under the chair.
He shoots me a quick glance before bowing his head. “I was working at the railyards, loading and unloading trains, when a cable broke and wrapped around my leg. They said not to worry, that I had insurance, workman’s comp. I was out of work for six months. Workman’s comp paid for the surgeries, but nothing more. My wife, Eleanor...”
I wait for him to catch his breath as he closes his eyes.
“God rest her soul.” Opening his eyes, he shakes his head. “Grace looks so much like her ma. Grace was little, barely more than a baby, and Eleanor worked, took as many shifts at the laundromat as she could, but the bills piled up. By the time I went back to work, we were three months behind on our rent and borrowed all we could. We were neck-deep in debt, and it went on for years, barely scrimping by. I lived like a shadow of a man, never able to give his wife, his family, what they truly wanted...”
His pain is real.
My heart swells with empathy, even if it’s abstract to me.
I’ve never lived without, not counting my time in the service. Not the way he’s describing. But I knew plenty of guys in the Army who have.
“This new guy on our crew started telling me that he’d set up a deal for making some money on the side.” He rubs a hand through his grey hair. “He warned me it was illegal, yet I listened. Then I did more than just listen. I agreed to help him so he’d cut me in. After the yard shut down for the night, I’d stay, let in a truck or two. We’d load up the goods, mark the railcar so the people on the other end could push it out before the manifests were checked, then lock up and leave. I knew it was drugs, pills and powders and God knows what else. Once a week, the driver would give me an envelope for the last delivery stuffed with cash.”
He looks at me, sorrow weighing heavy in his eyes.
“I told myself I was only gonna do it until we were caught up on our bills and paid off our loans. Then I said until we bought a new car. Then until Eleanor got a new job, her farm, and then...” With another rolling sigh, he lifts up the glass of water on the table and takes a drink. “There was always another reason.”
“That how you bought your place and the horses?” I ask.
“Eventually, yes, but before then...there was a train derailment, not far outside of Milwaukee. The drugs were found when the Feds sent guys to investigate. I thought I was gonna get busted, locked up for sure. But this young guy shows up. Clay. He was in his late twenties back then. Told me he had connections that could make sure those drugs disappeared, were forgotten about, but I’d have to step up my game. Bigger shipments. More cargo. It was all going to the West Coast, and those were my trains, so I agreed. I did everything his men asked for several years and the payments got bigger. Never saw him again until I had to quit.”
“Quit the railroad?” I ask, putting it all together in my head.
“That, too. Everything was going digital, automated, even the gates. I couldn’t stay late, couldn’t let trucks in and out with the sensors and cameras improving. All the cargo was being coded, too, tracked by computers and weight. Too much risk. The money I made hadn’t made me rich. It was just always enough to make us want more. We still lived in the same apartment, but we managed to save enough for a down payment on the farm. Grace was still young and Eleanor wanted