Preacher's Daughter - Flora Ferrari Page 0,17

saw he had it by the door when he arrived, but it’s gone now too.

It feels like something’s hit me in my chest. Like I can’t breathe properly.

A horrible ache spreads from my heart and lungs, filling my stomach with a sick feeling that only makes me want to cry.

And I do, I start to cry like I’ve never cried in my life.

What starts as a dry croak disappears into a vacant, howling sound as I curl up on the couch, hugging a pillow and still smelling him on it I cry a little harder.

Different shakes now, different sounds from my body. Different feelings from the same place he made me feel so special just a few hours before.

I don’t want to believe it, I can’t.

He said he wanted me to promise myself to him and I did. He wouldn’t just leave.

He just wouldn’t.

But he has, and the only sound apart from the heaving sigh of thunder outside is the clock on the mantle, all drowned out by my own sobs once they take hold.

I cry until I can’t cry anymore until the need to know what’s happened is stronger than my own misery.

Hauling myself off the couch, I make my way to the kitchen, struggling to remember Fitz’s number.

I just can’t remember though. Try as I might, I just can’t.

Against my instincts, I call the only number I know by heart, my Dad’s cell.

Mine’s upstairs somewhere, probably still tucked in my backpack, dead.

He answers almost straight away and as soon as I hear his voice I know this was a stupid idea.

He can tell I’m crying before I even say two words.

“What is it, Faith? What’s happened?” he asks before I can even put a sentence together.

Taking a breath to try and ask him if he knows anything somehow, he speaks right over me.

Preacher.

“I’m glad you rang Faith, are you alright? I want you to make sure and lock all the doors and windows. I spoke to Fitz… and a few other folks, including Sheriff Brodie. Apparently, there’s an armed gang on the loose, held up a bank truck across the state line… man on the loose around our way isn’t unlikely.”

I bolt upright, feeling a new edge of excitement replacing my sadness straight away.

Noah, a fugitive running from a heist?

I don’t know why, but the very idea sets my heart racing again, a smile spreads across my face and I start to machine-gun my Dad with questions, turning the tables on him a little.

Okay, a lot.

I almost squeal with delight as I consider the possibilities. Nothing this exciting ever happens to me, let alone in our town.

“Faith?” My Dad says firmly, skipping my questions. “Now, tell me what happened after this stranger left this morning, which way did he go, and what did he look like? Sheriff Brodie will most likely come by and ask some questions, get tire prints. All that sort of thing… Faith?”

“When are you coming home, Daddy?” I ask, ignoring his questions, glancing at the clock.

“Well, I was going to leave it until tomorrow, but if this man’s who we think he is I’ll be on the next flight home,” he says, sounding like he’s packing his bag as we speak.

Making a face and clenching my jaw, I feel so helpless. Like I wish there was a way I could delay him coming home somehow. So I could go look for Noah myself.

“You don’t need to rush back Dad, that guy’s long gone and if he’s a bank robber, then I’m a supermodel.” I groan, letting the thrill of the fantasy die again.

He left, he had his fun and like any guy would he told me a bunch of crap and when he saw his out, he left.

Simple.

All the old feelings, everything I told myself before yesterday comes flooding back.

In no time I even hear my Dad sigh, relieved.

He can hear his daughter’s safe and she’s definitely back.

“Well, if you think you could manage just one more night?” he asks. “I still haven’t even put in our budget submission… it’s kind of important I do that while I’m here,” he says meekly.

I pretend to stifle a yawn, eyeing the keys to the old dodge on the rack.

“I’ll be okay Daddy. I’ve still got unpacking to do and if I see any strange men in trees I’ll call Sheriff Brodie,” I drone.

“Men in trees? Faith, are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, sounding worried again.

“I’ll be fine Dad. Just tired is all. Must be the