Her Christmas Protector. Terri Reed
to Luke about the overwhelming sense of danger she lived with?
If she told him why she was running, what then? Would he ask her to leave? Or would he want to play the hero and promise to protect her?
She gave a silent scoff. No one could protect her. Hadn’t she already learned that lesson well enough?
Maybe she should leave now, before she became too attached to Dottie, Luke and ranch life.
The thought of leaving brought sadness to her heart. She wanted to stay and make sure Dottie fully recovered.
Luke’s confidence and trust in her judgment about his mother’s care had warmed her. It’d been so long since she’d felt anything but the icy chill of fear, she’d forgotten how nice it was to feel heated from the inside out.
“Faith,” Dottie said, concern evident in her voice. “Honey, are you all right?”
Turning toward the woman propped up against the pillows on the bed, she said, “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”
She would be fine here on the ranch. Here she was safe. Her paranoia had gotten the better of her earlier. She’d have to be more careful not to let her fear show.
Putting the episode behind her, Faith sat on the edge of the bed and made a conscious effort to concentrate as Dottie explained the basics of knitting.
As Faith cleared the dishes from dinner in Dottie’s room, Dottie touched Faith’s hand and gave a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, my dear. You are an answer to my prayers. You can’t know how grateful I am that you’re here.”
Impulsively, Faith bent and kissed the older woman’s cheek. More than Dottie could know or Faith could explain, being at the Circle C was like living another life. A life infinitely better than her own. “And being here is an answer to my prayers.”
She was determined not to allow any more bouts of paranoia intrude on her peace of mind.
“Faith, why do you seem so sad at times?”
“I’m tired.” That didn’t answer what she’d been asked, but it was the best she could do. She tried to smile past the sudden tightness of her rib cage.
Concern marred Dottie’s brow. “It’s more than that.” Her eyes narrowed shrewdly. “Faith, I’m here if you want to talk.”
The knot tightened at the offer of a confidante. How she wished she had the fortitude to spill her secrets to this kind woman, but Faith wouldn’t risk the Campbells’ safety any more than she had to.
Her throat constricted, making speech difficult. “I appreciate your concern, Dottie. I’m—I’m really just a little worn out.” Worn out in many ways.
Doubt clouded Dottie’s eyes. “You’re probably hungry, as well. You hardly touched your food again at dinner. Why don’t you go down and fix yourself something to eat before you go to bed.”
The thought of food made her stomach roll. Admittedly, the little she’d eaten had been very good. She made a mental note to compliment Reva. “I’ll be fine. It’s hard adjusting to new surroundings.”
“You really should eat more. You’re too thin.”
Faith smiled at the familiar words. Her grandfather had often lamented that she would blow away in a strong wind. “I’ll eat a big breakfast.”
Dottie nodded.
Faith helped Dottie settle back against the pillows. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, dear. Thank you.”
“Then I’ll let you get some rest.” She turned to go.
“Faith?”
“Yes?”
“God is a great listener. He longs for His children to give Him their burdens.”
Faith blinked. “His children?”
Dottie nodded. “He looks at all of us as His children. And as any parent wants to do, He wants to comfort and protect. That’s not to say He’ll rescue us from all our troubles, but He promises to be with us, offering wisdom and guidance.”
The thought of God as a benevolent and loving parent boggled Faith’s mind and opposed everything she’d been taught.
Hadn’t grandfather often claimed that God sat in judgment of each individual and that His righteous wrath would fall upon the heads of those who opposed Him?
A dull ache started at her temple. Was what Dottie said fact or fiction? How did she go about finding the truth? Faith rubbed her eyes.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. Here I am yapping away when you need your rest.”
“That’s okay, Dottie.” Faith managed to smile. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Quickly, she left the room.
In the dimly lit hallway, a hand touched Faith’s arm. She gasped. Her heart slammed against her chest. She jerked back. And focused on Luke.
She sagged against the wall. The sudden fear went spiraling through her abdomen where it landed in her stomach with a burning crash. “You scared me.”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to.” He had the grace to look sheepish. “We need to talk.”
A heaviness swept over her, weighing her down. The urge to run and hide streaked through her, but she couldn’t make her feet move. Deep inside she knew her only real option was to stay and face his curiosity. But did it have to be right now?
“Can’t this wait until morning?” she asked.
“No, we need to discuss what happened in the barn and what, exactly, you’re running from.”
The tightness in her chest spread, and her breathing turned shallow. I’m running from the outside world, her mind screamed.
The mere thought of what waited for her out there made her head spin and lights explode in her vision.
“Faith, what’s wrong?”
She heard his voice, heard the concern in his tone. The words echoed inside her head, making the already dull ache grow and sharpen. She really should have eaten more.
Between her low blood sugar, the unexpected fright of moments ago and Luke’s probing, Faith was helpless against the inevitable.
She tried to answer, her mouth opened, but no words formed. The hall grew dim and her vision closed in upon itself while the world faded away.
She heard Luke anxiously call her name.
Luke caught Faith before she crumpled into a heap at his feet. He checked her pulse. The beat steady. The slow rise and fall of her chest showed she was breathing.
“Faith? Faith. Honey, wake up.” Patting her cheeks didn’t seem to help any.
Scooping one arm beneath Faith’s legs and the other under her back, he lifted her. She was soft and light in his arms as he carried her to her room. A faint, pleasing smell of flowers scented her hair.
Trying not to jostle her much, Luke laid her on the bed then sat on the edge and rubbed her hands.
She stirred, her eyelids fluttered, then slowly opened.
Unexpected tenderness grabbed a hold of him. He tucked a lock of blond hair behind her ear, his fingers brushed across her cheek, the skin satin smooth and warm to his touch. Her eyes widened slightly and he withdrew his hand. “How are you feeling?”
“Wh—what happened?”
“You fainted.”
Her teeth pulled at her bottom lip. “I guess I’m more tired than I thought.” She smiled, weakly.
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