Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
I picture Molly, and all I want to do is climb through the phone and scoop her up into my arms. I blink back the tears that threaten at the edges of my vision. For a second, I think I might pass out, then I rise to my feet and pace the floorboards.
He hasn’t even managed to make the money he got for me last a week. He hasn’t given me enough time to figure anything out. What the hell am I going to do?
“Natalie. Is there any way that you can keep Molly with you?” It’s not a permanent solution but my father has no idea where Natalie lives and as long as Molly stays with her, she’ll be safe.
“I can for a little while, but what about when I need to be at the bakery? It can’t be for too long, or my mom will start asking questions.” Natalie lives with her mom. She has no brothers or sisters, and her father left before she was even born.
“Can she come with you to the bakery and hide in the back? Don’t send her to school, or he’ll find her. Tell your mom that Molly’s family is out of town because of an emergency.” I pray silently that Natalie will say okay. This is asking so much of her, and although we’re friends, Molly’s a minor, and what I’m asking isn’t without risk. What happens if Dad does find out where Molly is and threatens Natalie and her mom? I’m putting her in a terrible position.
There’s a long pause while we both settle on the idea.
“I promise I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll figure out a way.”
“Okay, but don’t be too long. I’m passing the phone to Molly. Hold on…”
“Taylor,” Molly gasps. Her voice is like a vice gripping my heart.
“Molly.”
“I miss you, Taylor! Are you okay? Can you come?”
“I miss you, too, Mollymoo. Can you hold on there with Natalie? Do what she tells you! Stay away from Dad, and I’ll come for you. I promise.”
“Okay.” Her sobs ebb to sniffs, and then she’s silent, just the sound of her breathing rasping down the line. I fell asleep to that sound so many nights, worried that something terrible would happen to us under the cover of darkness. When I was close, I could shield her, use my body, or let my body be used, whatever worked. Now, I’m too far away to do anything but tremble and panic.
“I’ve got to go now, Molly. You did the right thing going to Natalie. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay, Tay. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Can I speak to Natalie again quickly?” There’s another pause.
“Taylor, I’ve got to go,” Natalie says. “Please get here soon. I know you’re out of town, but I’m scared. I don’t want your dad turning up here.”
“He won’t. He doesn’t know where you live. I’ll come as soon as I can.”
She doesn’t say anything, and the silence is deafening.
“And Natalie? Thank you.”
I exhale, feeling emotionally drained and desperate. This is the worst possible moment for this to happen. How can I approach Clint, Maverick, and Jesse after what happened? But I don’t have a choice. It can’t wait anymore. I’m timed out.
I smooth my face with the palms of my hands, clearing away the tears. I straighten my clothes and push my hair over my shoulders. I close my eyes and say a silent prayer.
If I mean anything to them at all, if they’re the decent men I’ve found them to be, they’ll help me.
If not, I’ll leave this place for my sister and never return.
16
CLINT
A HUSBAND’S DUTY
We clean up the mess in the kitchen and give Taylor enough time and space to at least get herself calm again. Jesse wanted to follow her immediately, but I put my foot down. No good was going to come of another tense conversation. Maverick hates confrontation, and Jesse has no head for listening to what other people need when it goes against his own desires. I’m out of my depth, but I know I have the best chance of hearing Taylor’s concerns and smoothing the wrinkles between us all. I feel awkward as I approach her room as softly as I can. My bulk is designed for giant, powerful strides, and grueling labor, not moving stealthily. The fact that I’m on my way to comfort someone that I’m truly starting to care about is a strange yet powerful motivator. I stop for a moment, sure I can hear her crying and moving around. But then there’s nothing. I knock and wait. There’s a shuffling sound. “Who is it?”
“Me, Clint. The others have gone off to the bunkhouse. Can I come in?” If she says no, would I go in anyway? After what just happened, I need to respect her space.