Are you so scared you were going to run?" She nodded, and he ran a finger along the line of her jaw. "Let's try to get through this," he said. "Even if it works, there's no way I can ever repay you," Paige said. He just shook his head. "I don't want anything from you, Paige. Except that no one ever hits you again. Ever." Paige just had to touch his face. She put her small palm against his cheek and whispered, "You are such an angel." "Naw. I'm just an average guy." He laughed a little. "A below-average guy." She shook her head and a tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. Preacher carefully wiped it away. "It doesn't make any sense to me," he said. "If a man has a family like this-you and Christopher and a new baby coming-why? It seems like he'd do anything in the world to keep you safe, not hurt you. I wish..." He shook his head sadly. "What do you wish, John?" "You deserve to have a man who loves you and never lets you forget it. Someone who wants to raise Christopher into a solid and strong man, a good man who respects women." He put his hand against her hair, grabbing a silky fistful. "If I had a woman like you, I'd be so careful," he said in a whisper. She looked into his tender eyes and smiled, but it was tinged with fear and sadness. "Come here, let me hold you," he said, pulling her to him. She slipped onto his lap, pulled up her legs and curled against him, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her back. She nestled like a little kitten against his broad chest. Preacher leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, his arms around her, holding her against him. All I have to offer is this, he thought. Help. Safety. We'll get this bastard out of her life, she'll grow strong and confident again. And then she'll go. Somewhere down the line there will be a man-one who treats her right. But until then, sometimes she might need someone to hold her for a little while. And if it gets to be me, those few times, I'll make the most of it. He sat like that until the small clock on the wall said that it was midnight. Paige had not moved in hours; she slept in his arms. He could stay there until dawn, just feeling her small body against his. With a deep sigh, he kissed the top of her head. Then he stood, carefully lifting her in his arms. She roused briefly, looking up at his face. "Shh," he said. "Let's get you to bed. We have a big day tomorrow." He carried her up the back stairs and into his old room. Preacher lowered her to the bed, next to her son, and brushed the hair away from her brow. "Thank you, John," she whispered. "You don't have to thank me," he said. "I'm doing what I want to do." *
( Robyn Carr )
[ Shelter Mountain ]
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