Preacher's Daughter - Flora Ferrari Page 0,18
weather, love you,” I tell him, sounding off and hanging up the phone.
I groan again when I hear a truck pulling up out front, Sheriff Brodie must be here after all, which doesn’t surprise me.
But when I look out the window, it’s not his truck at all. It’s a different one.
Orange and white.
Chapter Ten
Noah
Laying with Faith right up against me, it all clicks for me.
This is what I want, nothing less.
I want her all day, every day and for every other day after that. The details?
Pfft! I’m not interested in the details right now.
Having the girl of my dreams up against my aching dick, still tasting her sweet essence in my mouth as I stroke her hair in her sleep.
It doesn’t get any better than this. This is the only detail that matters, right here in my arms.
I doze for a bit, but soon the noise from the air conditioning unit, the kind of storm that’s trying to blow outside… sooner than later they all start to match the old thoughts coming back.
The shit I need to be doing.
Surely I can have a day off, a little rest is all?
You’ve had two days now already. That case isn’t going to deliver itself.
That damned suitcase.
May as well have the damned thing tied around my neck it’s such a lead weight in my life now. Has been for a whole week now even though I only started out on the road yesterday.
Can’t even shit without taking it with me.
It’s safe under the table, I’m in a preacher’s house for god’s sake. What could possibly happen to it?
But it keeps gnawing at me, same as knowing my truck’s out on the road.
Sure it’s behind some trees, but anyone who’s looking could spot it easily.
I stay still for as long as I can, still enjoying the sounds and feeling, the smell of Faith’s hair on my chest as she sleeps.
Until finally, I know what I have to do.
She hardly stirs and as much as I want to stay in her bed, I make my way downstairs after getting dressed to get started on what I actually came here for in the first place.
There’s an old barn opposite the other side of the huge house, not as old as the house itself, but looks promising for a supply of gas and maybe even something to mend my radiator hose with.
The afternoon sky is still dark with storm clouds, the odd large drop of rain, and roll of thunder, but it looks like it might blow itself out before it even starts.
The Preacher must have a ready supply of just about everything anybody in need could ever ask for in the old barn.
There’s plenty of gas in cans ready to go and I even find an old length of thick hose I know I can make do with until I get the truck to a shop for more proper, in-depth repairs.
For now, it’ll get me back on the road. Get us back on the road, I remind myself. Certain that Faith will come with me, she just has to.
Counting my blessings for the day, I make my way over and take maybe an hour and a half to do what’s needed to get the truck running again.
Not a soul passes the house or me and my truck, so I tell myself I can rest easy leaving Faith alone all the way across the road and the suitcase still under her old man’s coffee table.
If it weren’t for her Dad coming back, I could gladly hole up here for a long while yet, but duty calls.
A promise is a promise.
As if by divine providence, my truck starts with the first turn of the key, and I might be imagining things, but the gas gauge even looks to have moved some, maybe even showing the right amount in the tank for a change.
I leave her running for a while, even just to convince myself that something actually worked for a change.
Since coming here, since meeting Faith, it’s like my whole life has started to make sense.
The day before yesterday, I would have punched anyone who tried to tell me things would get better and soon.
Seemed like everything I touched up until then either broke, ran out, or plain didn’t happen for me. No matter how hard I tried, it felt like my usual magic touch had left me.
That’s all changed now, I can feel it.
Once I feel sure the truck’s feeling as happy as I do, I pull