LITMIR.BIZ

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Paige yell, “Christopher!”

      “We better get our story straight,” Preacher said to him.

      “Our story,” Chris said, pointing at the page in front of him.

      Momentarily there were feet coming down the stairs, fast. When she got to the bottom, she stopped suddenly. “He got away from me while I was running the tub,” she said.

      “Yeah. In fact, he’s dressed like he barely escaped.”

      “I’m sorry, John. Christopher, get over here. We’ll read after your bath.”

      He started to whine and wiggle. “I want John!”

      Paige came impatiently around the counter and plucked him, squirming, into her arms.

      “I want John,” he complained.

      “John’s busy, Chris. Now, you behave.”

      “Uh—Paige? I’m not all that busy. If you’ll tell Jack I’m not in the kitchen for a bit, I could do the bath. Tell Jack, so he knows to lock up if everyone leaves.”

      She turned around at the foot of the stairs. “You know how to give a child a bath?” she asked.

      “Well, no. But is it hard? Harder than scrubbing up a broiler?”

      She chuckled in spite of herself. She put Chris down on his feet. “You might want to go a little easier than that. No Brillo pads, no scraping. No soap in the eyes, if you can help it.”

      “I can do that,” Preacher said, coming around the counter. “How many times you dunk him?” She gasped and Preacher showed her a smile. “Kidding. I know you only dunk him twice.”

      She smirked. “I’ll see if Jack needs anything, and then I’ll be up to supervise.”

      Paige was peeling and slicing apples, Preacher rolling out pie dough, when Jack came into the kitchen. “Mel’s out front,” he told them. “She’s going over to the Eureka mall, Paige—she can’t get into her pants anymore. She said you can ride along, if you need anything.”

      Paige looked at John, lifting her brows.

      “Go on, Paige,” he said. “Chris won’t be up for another hour and I got the kitchen. You probably need all kinds of things.”

      “Sure, thanks,” she said, putting her apple and knife in the bowl, taking off her apron.

      “Listen,” Preacher said, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “I don’t even know if you have credit cards, but you have to be real careful about that. You should shop with cash—huh?” He pulled out his wallet, took some bills out and began to unfold them, peeling off one, then another, then.

      Paige went completely pale, her eyes round and clearly frightened. She started shaking her head and backing away. “Tell… Tell Mel I have to do… some things… Okay?”

      Jack tilted his head, frowning. “Paige?” he asked.

      Paige backed up until she was against the wall, her hands behind her back, her face as white as alabaster. Then a tear rolled down her cheek.

      Preacher put his wallet on the counter and said, “Give us a minute, Jack.” Then he took off his own apron and walked toward her. As he neared, she slid down the wall to the floor and put her hands over her face.

      Preacher got on his knees in front of her and gently tugged at her hands, pulling them away from her face and holding them. “Paige,” he said softly. “Paige, look at me. What just happened there?”

      Her expression was panicked. Tears ran down her cheeks, but her voice was a whisper. “He did that,” she said. “Got his money out of his pocket and said, ‘Go buy yourself some nice things.’ He did that so much. Later, he’d throw the money at me and say he couldn’t afford to have a wife that looked like a vagrant.”

      Preacher sat on the floor right next to her. “Did you hear what I said? I didn’t say anything like that, did I? I said, you have to be careful, don’t use your charge card.”

      “I heard you,” she said in a whisper. “Did I tell you I married him because my legs hurt?”

      “You haven’t said anything about him,” Preacher said. “Nothing at all. That’s okay—you don’t have to say anything unless you want to.”

      “I was a beautician. Hair, I did hair. Sometimes twelve-hour days because the pay was so low. We really worked hard. I never had enough for the rent and my roommates and I lived in a real dump. I loved it, but I was tired, broke. Sore. My legs hurt,” she said again. “I knew he was bad for me, my friends hated him, and I married him because he said I didn’t have to work anymore.” She started to laugh and cry together. “Because I didn’t have anything. Because I had nothing…”

      “Guys like that know just what to use for bait,” he said. “They have a sense for it.”

      “How do you know that?”

      He shrugged. “I read about it.” He wiped a tear from her cheek. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault. You got tricked.”

      “I have nothing again,” she said. “A little suitcase, a car with stolen license plates on it, a child and one on the way…”

      “You have everything,” he said. “A car with stolen license plates, a son, a baby on the way, friends…”

      “I had friends before,” she whispered. “They were scared of him. He ran them off and I lost them forever.”

      “Do I look like the kind of friend he can scare? Run off?” He pulled her gently onto his lap and she rested her head against his chest.

      “I don’t know why I stay so crazy,” she said softly. “He’s not anywhere near. He’ll never guess this place. But I’m still scared.”

      “Yeah, that happens.”

      “You’re never scared,” she said.

      He chuckled softly, stroked her back. He was scared of a bunch of things, number one being the day she got these problems managed and left with Christopher. “That’s what you think,” he said. “In the Marines, they used to say everyone’s afraid, so you have to learn to use fear to your advantage. Man, if you ever figure out how you do that, let me know. Okay?”

      “What did you do when you were scared?” she asked.

      “One of two things,” he said. “I’d either pee myself, or I’d get mad.”

      She lifted her head off his chest, looked at him and laughed a little.

      “That’s a girl,” he said, wiping off her cheeks. “I think you need to get out of Virgin River a little bit. But you’re probably in no shape to go shopping today.”

      She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I made a scene.”

      “It’s a little country bar, Paige. We live for those.” He grinned. Then he sobered. “They also used to say, stare it in the face—fake brave. They taught us to look mean.”

      She shuddered.

      “Never mind all that. Tomorrow I’ll go for supplies instead of Jack. He can get lunch for once. I’ll take you and Chris, get you out of town for a break. You can pick up a few things, if you want to. I’m not buying you anything, though. I’ll use the bar charge card so we can get our annual perks, you save your receipts and catch me up later, after a payday or two.” He touched her nose. “Chris is running around naked. Suggests a wardrobe problem.”

      Jack had backed out of the kitchen slowly when Preacher asked for a moment. As slowly as he could, because something major was happening and he was curious. When he got back to the bar, Mel was waiting, up on a stool. “What’s up?” she asked.

      Jack put a finger to his lips, shushing her. “Something’s going on,” he whispered.

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