Page 85 of Holden’s Resurrection

“Thanks, I’ll ask her,” he said even though he’d leave the final decision up to Charleigh.

“Happy for you,” Weston noted.

“A lot has changed in the last few years.”

“Yeah, it has. All for the better.”

Weston wouldn’t get any arguments from Holden about that. Who would’ve thought that when Nixon had suggested they all move back to his hometown in the middle of bum-fuck-Egypt, everyone’s life would change?

The weight of Holden’s day crashed into him as soon as he walked into the house and saw Faith playing with her Barbies. He’d done his best to hide the anger when Faith chatted with him about her day. He’d done his best to tamp down the revulsion while they all sat around the table and ate dinner, but Holden had barely tasted his meal. He’d gone through the motions of helping Charleigh clean up the kitchen when she’d cornered him and demanded that he tell her what was wrong.

He didn’t hold back when he told her. He trusted Charleigh could handle the ugliness of his day. After he’d unloaded, he couldn’t say he felt any better, but he could see that while Charleigh absolutely didn’t like hearing about it, she was relieved he shared. She’d placed a kiss on his cheek and left the kitchen. That was ten minutes ago and now that the last of the dishes were put away, he was ready to go find his girls. But when he turned to go search, Faith was standing there with her coat on.

What the hell?

“Where are you going?”

“Come on, I’m taking you out for an ice cream sundae.” Faith waved a twenty-dollar bill in the air. “With sprinkles.”

Holden glanced up and spotted Charleigh leaning against the door frame with a smile on her face.

“Ice cream?” Holden asked.

“Mom says ice cream sundaes with sprinkles make the worst days a little better,” Faith chirped.

“No.” Charleigh giggled. “I said, spending time with you makes the worst days a little better. But ice cream helps.”

Holden took in Charleigh’s bare feet and short-sleeved shirt.

“You need to get boots and a coat, baby, it’s—”

“I’m gonna stay home. Faith’s gonna take you out.”

Ever so slowly, Holden’s body tightened. The feeling started in his chest and moved upward, the swell so big it was a wonder he didn’t choke. Only when the magnitude of Charleigh’s gesture fully engulfed him, the trust she was giving him, the opportunity to get to know Faith, did he finally understand what he’d set out to win. He thought he knew, he thought since he’d seen his friends with their women and families he had a good idea. He thought since Charleigh had been his once, he remembered what it was like. He’d been incorrect on all accounts. He was clueless, utterly ignorant of the true emotional impact. Family wasn’t a word, it wasn’t a place, it wasn’t blood or DNA. Family was a deep-seated feeling that rooted, blossomed, then flourished. The scale in which you measure those emotions—indescribable. But once the hugeness of the emotions hit—you just knew.

So, Holden had been wrong. He hadn’t known jackshit about what exactly he’d been fighting for. He’d liked the idea of it, loved Leigh-Leigh, wanted to get to know and bond with Faith. Together with Charleigh, he wanted to watch the little girl grow up, teach her, guide her, show her wondrous things. Now, an idea had morphed into an all-encompassing precious emotion.

One he would die to keep—protect with his life.

“Are we going?” Faith cut through his musings.

“You buying?” he asked, and held out his hand.

“Yep.” Faith proudly held up the bill.

“Then it’s a date.”

Faith’s little hand curled around Holden’s and she gave him a mighty tug. “We have to hurry.”

Holden didn’t know why they had to hurry and didn’t bother to ask. He simply allowed Faith to pull him through the kitchen. But as they passed Charleigh, he paused and brushed his lips against hers. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Her smile held him captive until Faith let out a grunt and yanked on his arm.

“We’ll be back.”

“Take your time.”