A Brother's Honor (Grangers) - By Brenda Jackson Page 0,54
He’s free, and you’re in here.”
“I’m willing to do the time,” Shep said somberly.
“Although you didn’t do the crime? Maybe your sons will—”
“No,” Shep cut him off by saying. “They have their own lives now.” What he didn’t add was that he wasn’t sure just what Sylvia was involved in that would make someone want her dead. And he didn’t want his sons’ lives placed in danger because of it. The less they knew, the better. Jace, Caden and Dalton had been and always would be his primary concern.
“There you go, Mr. Shep, always looking out for people. I just wish I could do something.”
Shep’s face creased into a smile. “You can. Do me proud by making something of yourself. Then go out into your community and reach out to another hellion who needs a guiding hand. Give him what I hope I gave to you. A sense of purpose and pride, as well as a belief that you can be better than what those street gangs were offering you.”
Fontane nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Twenty minutes later, Shep was standing at the window on the fourth floor in the library and watched as Matthew Fontane walked out of Delvers a free man. A car that Shep knew was driven by Pastor Luther Thomas was there to pick him up. Luther would see to it that Fontane was acclimated back into society as easily as possible and with strong, positive influences. And Luther would make sure Fontane got the last credits he needed to finish college. Luther had promised, and Shep knew he would keep his word. Luther himself had once been a convict but had been released after being locked up for six years after his attorney fought for and won a new trial. New evidence was submitted that proved it wasn’t Luther’s DNA on the rape victim. The real rapist was already in jail for a series of other rapes.
Luther, even while serving time, had been instrumental in helping Shep retain his sanity during his first year being incarcerated. He had told Shep that when the world gives you lemons, you make lemonade. Being in prison didn’t make you guilty; it just meant the odds had been against you, and when you knew in your heart that you were innocent, you had nothing to be ashamed about. It had not come as a surprise to Shep that, after leaving prison, Luther had gone into the ministry. The man had a way of inspiring people and would be just what Fontane needed.
As Luther’s car departed, another vehicle pulled up. Suddenly, Shep felt a deep pull in his gut as a sense of pride washed over him. He knew just as sure as his name was Sheppard Maceo Granger that his sons had arrived. All three of them.
* * *
Shep managed to grip his sons—all three of them—in a tight bear hug. He needed this. To hold them close and let them feel the love from him...just as he needed to feel it from them. They were the most important people in his life. Period. Always had been and always would be. He thought about them upon waking up each morning and said a prayer for them before going to bed each night. He could deal with the loss of his freedom but could never deal with the loss of them.
He slowly drew back and studied each of their features as love continued to stir his insides. They were men who had grown up without him. Men he was proud of. The old man had done a great job of taking over where Shep had left off. He knew times hadn’t been easy. Richard Granger was from the old school and believed in authority, almost dictatorship. But it was only after Shep had been locked up and had to mingle with men whose childhoods had been so different from his that he could appreciate his father’s tough love. And he figured that one day his sons would grow to appreciate it, as well.
All three had that arrogant-looking Granger chin with the dimple in the center. The Granger cleft, his grandmother would call it. All male Grangers were born with it. Dalton, although the youngest, was still the tallest, and all three looked well and physically fit.
He shifted his gaze from Jace and Caden to Dalton. “I’m so glad to see you, Dalton.”
“Same here, Dad,” his son said in an almost-broken voice. “I wanted to come before now but I couldn’t. There were—”