His for the Taking - By Ann Major Page 0,21
night…and sometimes several days. I would hide in the closet even though I was scared of the dark.”
“Did you ever tell a teacher that you were so scared you locked yourself in a dark closet?”
“Only Miss Jennie, when I was in high school. She took me home with her one afternoon. Everything was so clean and bright and nice in her house, and she was so gentle and kind that I started to cry because I wanted to live in a place like hers, with no smudges on the walls, a place with tablecloths and clean sheets on the beds, a place where I felt safe and where people were kind. Mother, you see, always screamed and cursed at me. Most people in Yella treated me like they hated me, too, though not Liam or Lizzie, who were always nice to me. So, I never imagined that I might achieve a decent kind of life.
“But Miss Jennie gave me hope. Until I started spending afternoons at her house in high school, my only friends had been horses.”
“What was the name of your first horse pal?”
“Remember how our trailer was next to Jasper Bower’s property? Well, Mr. Bower noticed that I used to bring his two horses apples after school. He was the one who gave me my first job mucking stalls in exchange for riding lessons. He let me take care of Pico and his other horses and gave me a good reference and that led to other jobs. I loved being in barns and working with horses, but until Miss Jennie saw how lost I was and befriended me, the human world mostly seemed big and unfriendly. And I felt helpless to ever change anything. She made me realize that if I didn’t want to be despised my whole life, I couldn’t hide out in barns. It was up to me to make something of myself. She’d been poor, too, you see, and she told me how she’d changed her life. She set out a very specific path to follow, with steps and options. We made a plan for what I’d do after graduation. I swore that if I ever succeeded, I wouldn’t forget that there were other little girls like me who didn’t have anyone to turn to, and that I’d help them…just like she helped me.”
“And? Have you?”
“I try so hard. I try every day. I got my bachelor’s degree in sociology and psychology so I could work at the same homeless shelter that took me in when I left Yella. Now, on cold days, I have coats to give shivering children and diapers for wet, dirty babies and bus tokens for poor mothers who need transportation to get to work. I run a day care for children and a shelter for women and children. And one for disabled men, as well. We feed lunch to three hundred people a day. I feel like the shelter I work for makes a difference.”
“You make the difference.” His gaze was so intense with interest and admiration, it caused a warm rush of pleasure and pride to swamp her.
“Working with these people requires many of the same skill sets I acquired training horses. Only you’re dealing with people. With rules, patience, determination, compassion and a plan, you can sometimes work miracles.” She paused. “When Noah’s older, I need to go back to school for my master’s so I can do more. But right now I need to be with him as much as I can. Children grow up fast. You don’t want to waste a moment.”
“If I had a son I’d feel the same way.”
Her head jerked. When her eyes met his, his warm, thoughtful gaze unnerved her.
“I’m sure you would,” she whispered haltingly.
For a second or two she was so connected to him she felt she had to tell him about Noah—because it was the right thing to do. She caught a panicky breath. Thankfully, he looked away, and in doing so, broke the spell. Squeezing herself, she let out a sigh. She had to be careful. Confiding in him had made her feel closer to him, and that closeness was dangerous.
As the sun turned golden-red and the sky blazed, he continued asking her questions. So eager was she to answer them she barely noticed the lengthening shadows as the sun sank lower.
After she finished her second beer, he unpacked their sandwiches and chips, which were delicious. Since they were there, she ate too many cookies, which he teased