Whispered Prayers of a Girl Read online

  I give my hair one good pull, letting the pain push away the unwanted feelings, before releasing it with a muted growl. I’m pissed at myself for wanting something I shouldn’t. This family is too good for me. I couldn’t even protect my own when they needed me. How could this family be any different? I refuse to take that chance.

  I lie back against the cushion and force thoughts of Gwen and her two kids away, and instead let my own demons take over. Closing my eyes, I let the screams of pain and fear flood my mind, reminding me why Gwen, Kelsey, and Daniel are better off without me in their lives.

  The creaking of the floor is what wakes me. My eyes flash open, and I swing my legs over to sit up on the couch. My eyesight quickly adjusts to the darkness of the room as I look around for the source of the noise. There’s a dark figure standing in the mouth of the hallway. A short figure. Much shorter than Gwen, but taller than Daniel.

  “Kelsey?” I ask softly.

  She takes a couple of steps into the living room, then stops.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” I ask, knowing I won’t get a response.

  I make a move to get up, but then my ass plops back down when she starts walking toward me. I hold still and she doesn’t stop until she’s only a foot away from me. I can’t see clearly in the dark room, but I can tell she’s looking at me.

  “Kelsey, is everything—”

  I stop and sit there stunned when she springs forward, wraps her arms around my neck, and sits down sideways on my lap. I hold my breath and don’t move for several long seconds, but then slowly bring my arms around her. For as long as she’s been here, I’ve never seen her show either her mother or brother any affection. She doesn’t shy away when her mother holds her hand or kisses the top of her head, but she never initiates any contact. For her to do so now, with me, is shocking, and damn near crushes my heart. I just don’t know why. Why would she pick me?

  I feel wetness on my neck and heated breaths as she buries her face against me and cries softly. My arms tighten around her tiny waist, and I tug her back with me as I lean back against the couch.

  “Shhh,” I whisper into the darkness, rubbing circles on her upper back. “It’s okay.”

  “I miss my dad,” she whispers back, further obliterating my heart and shocking me more.

  I squeeze my eyes closed to keep back the tears wanting to fall. I am so completely blessed to hear this girl’s beautiful voice after years of not letting anyone hear it, but the tortured words and the pain behind them leave me feeling like I’m taking my last painful breath.

  “I know you do, honey,” I say softly. “I know you do.”

  Unsure of what to do, I adjust us both so I’m leaning back against the arm of the couch with her still lying in my arms. I debate with myself whether I should get her mother or not, and then decide against it, worried that she’ll withdraw even further. Obviously, there’s something about me that makes her feel comfortable enough to come to me, even though I have no clue what it is. Kelsey needs this, I know in my gut she does, and although Gwen is her mother and has a right to know, I won’t break Kelsey’s trust. In the short span of time they’ve been here, she’s come to mean a lot to me, all three of them have, way more than they should.

  Kelsey’s cries quiet down after a while, and I feel her breathing against my neck even out. She’s finally asleep. The thought of taking her back into my room where her mother is doesn’t even cross my mind. It makes my heart feel lighter having her trustingly sleep against me.

  I settle us down even more, grabbing the blanket I threw on the back of the couch and laying it over her. My legs hang out, but that’s perfectly okay with me.

  I kiss the top of her head and tighten my arms, making sure she won’t fall off during the night. Leaning my head back against the armrest, I close my eyes and send up my own silent prayer that this girl and her family will find the strength to be whole again.

  I wake with snoring in my ear and something tickling my nose. Cracking my eyes open, a headful of red hair is all I can see. I tip my head to the side and brush away the few strands of hair that’ve gotten caught in my beard. A soft smile plays on my lips when Kelsey’s nose wrinkles.

  Feeling eyes on me, I look over and see Gwen sitting on one of the chairs, staring at us. My smile slips away at the intense look on her face. At first I wonder if she’s mad, because the hard slash of her mouth, downward line of her eyebrows, and the redness covering her cheeks make her appear like she’s holding in anger. I’m just about to ask what’s wrong, when all of a sudden she lets out a soft hiccoughing sound right before her face crumples and her eyes flood with tears. Her eyes leave mine to look down at her daughter snuggled in my arms. I look down as well and know exactly what she’s feeling. My heart constricts at the pure innocence on Kelsey’s face. Her face is relaxed in her sleep, not giving off the painful look she normally carries.

  I look back at Gwen, and I want to get up and pull her in my arms. To comfort her, but to also let her know she’s not alone. Our situations are different on many levels, but there’s one thing that’s the same. We both mourn the loss of someone special to us. Gwen not only mourns her husband, but her daughter as well. I mourn my wife and the family we’d barely begun to share.

  I hold on to Kelsey as Gwen struggles to bring her emotions under control. Her lips tip up into a beautiful smile as she wipes away her tears. A look to the left shows the sun is already making its way over the horizon, surprising me because I never sleep this late.

  “Will she stay asleep if I move her?” I ask quietly.

  She gets up and comes over to us; her eyes soften even more as she peers down at her sleeping daughter.

  “She should,” she whispers.

  Pulling back the cover, I slowly sit up and place my feet on the floor. I adjust Kelsey so she’s lying sideways in my arms with one under her shoulders and the other under her knees. Gwen follows us as I walk down the hallway to the bedroom. Neither of the kids move as I lay her down next to Daniel. I slide part of the cover over Kelsey, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m bending down and placing a kiss on her forehead, then leaning over and doing the same to Daniel. These may not be my kids, and I may not have any ties to them, but they already have a place in my heart.

  When I turn to leave the room, Gwen’s standing behind me, watching with a weird look on her face. She turns before I can question her on it, and we both walk down the hallway. She heads straight for the couch, grabs my blanket, and starts folding it. I go over to the fireplace and throw in a couple of logs, stirring it back to life, before turning to face her.

  With her back to me, she asks in a hoarse voice, “What would you have done if I had told you she would wake up?”

  “Stayed on the couch until she woke on her own,” I tell her.

  She lays the blanket down on the couch, then the pillow on top, before turning to face me.

  “Why?”

  I walk over to her and stop when I’m a foot away. The need to be close to her is too strong to ignore right now. It scares the shit out of me, but I don’t have the will to push it away.

  Her head tips back the closer I get to her. Her vanilla scent wafts up to me, reminding me of the cakes my grandmother used to bake us kids when we were little.

  I stop when I’m only a foot away. “Why what?”

  “Why would you do that for her?” Her eyes are soft but curious as she asks the question.

  “To be honest, I don’t know.” And I really don’t. I have no clue why these people have touched me so much in such a short time. But there’s no denying it.

  She nods, looks down for a moment, then lifts her head.

  “What time did she wake you?”

  “It wasn’t too late.”

  “I’m sorry. You should have woken me.”

  “She was fine.”

  I don’t say anything about Kelsey whispering to me. There’s obviously a reason she spoke to me last night. Maybe she’s finally decided to start opening up, and I
was the first person she was able to do it with. Maybe she senses my own heartache and feels like she can relate. Maybe she’ll wake up today and start talking. Or maybe she was half asleep and vulnerable at the time and it slipped out before she realized it. No matter the reason, telling her mother doesn’t seem right.

  And a tiny part of me, the evil, selfish part, wants to keep it to myself for a little while. It makes me feel so damn special that she picked me to hear her voice after so long.

  We both stand there, neither breaking eye contact. My hand itches to reach out and graze my fingers along her cheek. I know it would be soft. I haven’t wanted to touch a woman since Clara died, and I never thought I would again. Or rather, I never thought I would want to. These feelings confuse me, because I want to feel them, but they terrify me. What could I possibly offer Gwen and her kids? A small cabin on the outskirts of town? A man that’s both physically and emotionally scarred? Certainly not protection, because it’s painfully obvious how well I do that. I remember that fact every single fucking day of my life. What this family could give me far exceeds anything I could ever give them, and that’s not fair.

  With that thought in mind, I take a step back, pushing away the need to be near her that I couldn’t force back moments ago. It hurts so damn much when I see the disappointment in her eyes. I have no idea what’s going on between us, but whatever it is, she feels it too. If I were a better man, a whole man without a black hole in my heart, I would snatch up the opportunity to have a woman like Gwen, and her kids. But I’m not. Instead, I put even more distance between us, and continue to hate the look she gives me.

  “I’m going to go check on and feed the horses,” I tell her, my voice gruff.

  Her hands play with the bottom of her shirt and she nods. “Okay.”

  I force my feet to take me away from her before I do something I’ll regret later. My boots and jacket are on, and I’m reaching for the door when she calls my name. I only turn my head to look at her over my shoulder, afraid if I turn my whole body, I won’t be able to stop myself from going to her.

  She’s closer to me from where I left her in the living room, like she was following me to the door, but then stopped herself. It makes me wonder if she’s having as hard a time as I am with staying away.

  “The kids should be up soon. Would you like breakfast?”

  Her face holds a hopeful expression, and I don’t have it in me to tell her no. She’s leaving today, and as hard as it’s going to be, I do want to spend time with her, Kelsey, and Daniel before they go. I just need to get my shit under control first. Spending time with my horses and giving myself a pep talk should do it.

  Or rather, I hope like hell it does.

  “Yeah,” I answer.

  The smile she gives me damn near knocks me on my ass.

  Before my legs get a mind of their own and carry me over to her, I shove open the door and step out into the surprisingly warmer weather. I hate the heat. That’s part of the reason I love Colorado so much; it never gets too hot here. It’s nowhere near hot right now, but it’s definitely warmer than what I want it to be. It’s because of the warm weather that Gwen and her kids are leaving today.

  The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon, and the white snow on the ground makes everything blinding. Drops of water are already dripping from the roof, and although there’s still a lot of snow on the ground, several inches have already melted away. As the day goes on, even more will melt. It’s amazing, the difference from yesterday to today.

  I step off the porch and head to the barn, anxious to get the horses fed and back to the house.

  Hours later, I’m standing at the window with my chest feeling hollow as I watch Jeremy’s forest green Blazer make its way up my driveway and park next to my truck. I grip the window seal when he gets out and looks around before walking to my porch. Seconds later, his knock sounds. I want to ignore it, or tell him to go the fuck away, that he can’t take away something I want to badly.

  My eyes skitter away from the door and land on Gwen, who’s standing at the end of the bar with a questioning look. She heard the knock as well, and I’m sure she’s confused as to why I haven’t answered it yet. I’m in denial and just want to ignore it, but I know I can’t. They don’t belong here with me.

  She takes a step toward the door to answer it, so I force my legs to move. I get there before she does, and I step in front of her to pull it open. Jeremy’s standing on the other side, hands shoved into his jeans pockets. I’ve known him for years, and he’s a nice enough man, but at the moment, I hate him. My initial reaction is to scowl at him and slam the door in his face. When he looks at me strangely with a hint of fear, I force the expression away. It’s not Jeremy’s fault I can’t get my shit together.

  He pulls one hand from his pocket and thrusts it out to me. “It’s good to see you, Alexander.”

  I don’t take his hand at first, just look down at it. It’s not often I’m offered a hand to shake anymore. I know that’s mainly my fault for not inserting myself in situations where I need to shake hands, but I also know it’s because people are leery of me.

  I grasp his hand in a firm shake. It’s not lost on me that he held out his left hand so I have to shake with my left, the unscarred one. However, Jeremy’s left-handed, so it could simply be that and not that he didn’t want to touch the mangled skin of my right hand.

  “Jeremy,” I grunt.

  “Hey, Jeremy,” Gwen says, stepping from behind me and offering him a smile. “Thank you so much for coming to get me and the kids. I hope the roads weren’t too bad.”

  His eyes leave mine to look at Gwen. Jeremy’s in his early fifties, and while men his age are still very capable of having a sexual appetite, he looks at Gwen with respect and what looks like fatherly affection. My body relaxes at the innocent expression. It’s stupid of me, and I have no right, but I don’t want to think of Jeremy wanting Gwen for his own.

  “They’ve been plowed and the salt’s doing its job, so they weren’t bad.”

  “That’s good.”

  An awkward silence fills the air as all three of us stand there. I’m used to living in the quiet, so it doesn’t really bother me much, but Gwen shifts beside me and Jeremy shoves his hand back into his pocket and rocks on his heels.

  It’s Gwen who speaks first. “I’ll… umm… just go make sure the kids are all ready,” she says before leaving Jeremy and me alone.

  “Place looks good,” he says lightly after several moments.

  He’s been out here a quite a few times. When Clara was still alive, we hosted barbeques every once in a while. Half the town would show up normally.

  “Thanks,” I reply.

  Silence ensues once again, and fuck if I know what to do to fill it.

  Unable to just stand there any longer, I turn on my heel and throw over my shoulder, “You want a cup of coffee before you go?”

  “Oh… uh….” He follows me into the kitchen. “Sure.”

  There’s already a fresh pot made, so I walk over and pour him a cup. I’ve gotten used to Gwen and the kids being here, but now with Jeremy, it feels strange again. Even when I have clients over, we don’t come into my house. In the last four years, I’ve only had my family here, and a couple of old friends.

  Jeremy sits at the bar, coffee cup in hand, while I lean against the counter across from him, my arms folded over my chest. I know I’m making him fidgety with my stillness, but I’m out of my element when it comes to visitors. I don’t shoot the shit or joke around anymore. I’m quiet and like my space, preferring to stay away from everything and everybody as much as possible. I like this lifestyle now. It’s different from what Clara and I had, but it’s something I need now.

  “So, how have you been?” he asks, then grimaces. “Sorry,” he mutters, looking down at his coffee. “Stupid question.”

  I let him off the hook, because really, under normal circumstances, most people would have already let go of their grief, or at the very least learne
d how to deal with it and move on with their life. Asking a question such as that shouldn’t be a big deal.

  “I’ve been good.”

  I make sure to keep my voice neutral so I don’t scare him off. I hate that people are leery to be around me, that they tiptoe and whisper behind my back. Yes, what happened destroyed me and it’s fucked me up in more ways than one, and yes, I do keep away from town because I really don’t care to be around people, but when I am in town it pisses me off that they act like I’m a goddamn freak or something. My scars are hideous, and every single fucking day I think about how I wasn’t able to protect the two people I loved more than anything in the world, but when people pull the wary card, it reminds me even more of how much I’ve lost and what I’ve done, or rather, wasn’t able to do.

  “That’s good.” He nods and takes a sip of his coffee.

  “How have you and your mother been?” I ask, because that’s what people do, right? When one asks the other how they are, it’s polite to reciprocate.

  He seems surprised by my question, and I guess that’s my fault. I haven’t been the friendliest person to be around when I do show my face.

  “Mom fell the other day and bruised her hip, but other than that, we’ve been good.”

  “I heard you and Gwen talking the other day about that.” I pause and surprise myself by adding, “If you need help making that ramp, let me know.”

  His brows lift at my offer, and I can’t really say I blame him.

  “But I don’t want to go, Mom,” Daniel’s voice interrupts us.

  I look up and see Gwen and Daniel walking into the living room, their bag slung over her shoulder, with Kelsey behind them.