Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 143842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
Pride filled Maddie’s face, and she shifted her head on her pillow so she was looking directly at me. “I think it was a very good idea that we came here, Mommy, because I think Mr. Cody was lonely and needed us to be neighborly, and now we get to go make even more friends on Saturday and I love it here the best. I don’t ever want to go back to Texas.”
Her expression dimmed, though hope lit beneath it.
My spirit cramped.
That ache that knew she hadn’t been immune.
I brushed back a wild curl from her forehead. “I have no intention of ever going back, either.”
I wanted to state it with confidence. Make her trust in it, to claim it like an oath. Still, my soul shook with the terror that lingered at the edges of my mind, lingered right outside the door, far closer than I’d ever wanted to allow them to be.
Maddie’s voice went soft like a secret, uncertainty dimming her blue, blue eyes. “Texas is bad.”
Dread swept in. “Why do you say that?”
Maddie hesitated, then hid her mouth beneath her covers when she confessed, “Because that’s where my daddy lives.”
My heart clutched. “And you think your daddy is bad?”
I was treading carefully, not wanting to shut her down but also not wanting to inject my own vitriol into the situation.
“Only when he whispers at you like he’s really mad.”
Those whispers echoed through my mind.
“You really think you can just leave?” Pruitt had hissed, his hand at my throat as he’d had me pressed to the hallway wall. “You keep forgetting who I am.”
“Mommy?” I’d looked to the right to find Maddie standing at the end of the hall, her rabbit held to her chest, eyes wobbling with tears.
“It’s okay, Maddie. Go back to your room and go to sleep. I’m fine.”
How long had I been saying that?
I’m fine.
I’m fine.
I felt the floor shift as the man slowly approached, like he couldn’t remain at bay for a second longer, persuaded by the sudden call of my daughter’s fear. Or maybe he’d been compelled by mine, too, because Cody slowly eased to kneeling beside me.
After dinner, I’d bathed and changed into sleep shorts and a tank, and one of those big hands went to my waist, his fingers dipping just beneath the fabric while his other hand splayed out wide over my daughter’s chest from over the blanket.
A covering.
A shield.
“You don’t have to worry about that any longer, Maddie. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.” Cody grunted it in that low voice.
Don’t make my daughter promises you can’t keep.
I looked up at the man, so solid, so firm.
Impenetrable.
Immovable.
His gaze traveled to mine. “Mean it.”
My nod was shuddery, and his was succinct.
The promise sealed.
Then he leaned in and lightly tickled my daughter.
“Cody, you got me,” she squealed.
“Nah, Maddie, you got me.”
Emotion crushed down.
A tumble of possibility.
A landslide of worry.
A lifetime of regret.
“Now get some sleep, little one.” He leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to her temple.
She gripped the tops of her covers, beaming up at him. “Okay, my very best Cody.”
Affection radiated from him, so distinct it filled the room.
I kissed her cheek and whispered, “Goodnight, Maddie. I love you so much.”
“I love you, Mommy.”
I remained floored as Cody pushed to standing.
Rising to his full, towering height.
Nothing but strength and fortitude.
He stretched out a hand.
I looked at it, divided, somehow knowing what it would mean if I accepted it.
But I did.
I let him enfold my hand in his, and he helped me to stand to my feet.
He watched me as he began to walk backward, leading me out.
I felt the ground shift, the earth canting to the side.
My heart no longer knew the safest way to beat.
I trudged through it like he wasn’t destroying my resolve, like I didn’t ache at the sight of him, like my belly wasn’t in knots and my spirit wasn’t in an uproar.
He eased all the way out the door, and I reached out to flick off Maddie’s light. It tossed darkness over the house and triggered the small nightlight out in the hall to flicker to life.
I pulled Maddie’s door closed a fraction.
Still facing me, he kept edging down the hall.
A lure.
Temptation.
Gravity.
My feet shuffled along the bare floor, and our breaths were shallow and too loud, as if they’d become an entity of their own. The air crackling though it was smooth and slow.
I finally spoke when we’d made it out into the living area with the faint illumination of the lights under the cabinets in the kitchen whispering around us. “Thank you.”
It was the only thing I could say, the only truth I was brave enough to admit.
A gentle frown carved Cody’s strong brow. “And what are you thanking me for?”
My huff was half awe and half disbelief. “For…everything. For putting that playhouse together and then going along with my daughter’s imaginings. For making her feel…special.”