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Silas stopped by the door, turned and looked at her. “Do you have a folding chair?”
Gabi was pulled out of her frantic internal planning. “Why?”
“I can sit on the ground, but if I’m going to plant myself on your front porch I’d just as soon have a chair.”
She shook her head. “You’re not staying.”
“I’m not leaving.”
It was clear arguing with him was going to be a waste of time. And dammit, she couldn’t have Mystic Springs’ critter guy camped on her front porch for hours. People would talk. They’d ask questions she didn’t want to answer.
“Please, just go.”
He walked toward her. She’d never seen such determination on his face. “You want me to leave you alone so you can run again? You want me to step back and let you light out of Mystic Springs while no one is watching?”
“There’s nothing between us…”
“There’s everything between us,” he said darkly. “More than I wanted. More, I suspect, than you wanted. If the man who’s shown up in town is your ex-husband, then let’s face him together. He has no claim on you. He doesn’t belong here. You do. I didn’t see that until now.”
“I don’t belong anywhere,” she whispered.
Silas placed his hands on her shoulders. Those hands were large, warm, and steady. His touch comforted her, steadied her.
“You belong with me. I’ll fight everyone to keep you.”
It was a nice thought. “I hope you don’t have to fight everyone.” It was a tease, an unexpected light moment in a dark time. “You don’t understand. Blake is… he’s not like you.”
“He hurt you. I never will.”
“I know, but…”
“I’ll kill him,” Silas said.
“Metaphorically speaking…”
“Literally speaking.”
Gabi placed a hand on Silas’s cheek. She wouldn’t let him actually commit murder, tempting as it was, but not because she didn’t want Blake dead. She did. But she wouldn’t let Silas carry the burden of taking a life, and she sure as hell didn’t want him going to jail. “How about a compromise?” Something between flight and murder. “Stand with me, if I do have to face Blake again. Help me be strong. Help me protect my daughter.”
Blake was a tough guy when it was just him and a woman he considered to be his property. Would facing Silas be enough to make him back down?
“I will. But first, there’s something I have to tell you.”
Gabi held her breath. Now what?
Silas hesitated. Whatever he had to tell her, he wasn’t eager to spit it out. He opened his mouth, closed it, furrowed his brow. “Never mind. It’s not that important. Let’s grab some lunch and then I’ll take you to The Egg for your afternoon shift with the gray-hairs.”
“Be nice,” she said. “One day you’ll have gray hair.”
“I think I feel one coming in now,” he teased.
She always walked to The Egg on Friday afternoons, dressing for the weather when it was necessary, afraid to get her car out in case someone took note of the expired license plate. She never took Mia with her, and doing so now would require a diaper bag, as well as a car seat they’d have to wrangle into the tiny back seat of Silas’s truck. She could thank him for helping, for not being anything like her ex-husband. But that would be too telling so she simply asked, in her most casual voice, “Are you accusing me of making you old before your time?”
He winked at her, shrugged his shoulders, and headed for the kitchen. “Could be. Is there leftover stew?”
* * *
His truck had never been so crowded. Gabi in the passenger seat, Mia strapped into a car seat for the short trip, and Judge in the back seat, along with a bulging diaper bag and a couple of doggie toys. Gabi looked a little nervous, and he knew why. Neither of them could be sure it was her ex who’d gone to Jordan’s ice cream shop asking about a haircut, but why take chances?
