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Grace imagined another encounter with the soldier, and her resolve weakened. “What do you suggest?”
“Daddy, can I get one of those?”
They both looked over to find Simon pointing at a stuffed shark for sale behind the sales counter. To Grace’s surprise, Amos deferred to her. “Should I get him one?”
Only then did Grace realize Amos wanted her in his and Simon’s life permanently. Stunned and vaguely alarmed, she asked, “How many toys does he have now?”
Amos blinked, then stepped immediately away to purchase the shark for his son. Watching them together, Grace sifted through the gamut of emotions swirling inside her. She thought about Mateo, and guilt assailed her for forgetting him, even for an instant. He was supposed to be all she needed to be happy. She had planned to raise him all alone, just the two of them. For some reason, that image wasn’t so clear.
Regarding the father and son coming toward her, she noticed Amos had purchased not one stuffed shark but two. He passed the second one for her to hold. “This one is for Mateo.”
Her heart softened immediately. “Thank you.” To think she had once thought Amos heartless.
“When I bring him home, you can give it to him.”
Putting an arm around her shoulder and another around Simon’s, he herded them toward the exit and the parking lot.
Grace did not shrug off his casual embrace. Instead, she considered, again, Mateo’s reaction should Amos show up suddenly to collect him. The poor boy would be terrified. What’s more, she would never get her money back on the airline tickets she had purchased. She was supposed to leave this coming Thursday. Amos, meanwhile, didn’t know yet if he would even be sent back to Bogotá, let alone whether he could arrange to slip in and out of Venezuela. Therefore, her way, though fraught with danger, still seemed the wisest course of action.
“So, about dropping you off,” Amos said in her ear, as they crossed the busy parking lot. “I’d feel better if you let me walk through your condo first.”
She searched his profile. “And do what?”
“Cast him out.”
Her eyebrows shot upward. “You’re an exorcist now?”
“It might help.”
The offer seemed absurd since the soldier was all in her head. And yet, he was real enough to chase her from her own home, in which case it couldn’t hurt for Amos to try.
She shrugged as he opened his passenger door for her. “If you want to.”
“I do.” He stepped away to let Simon into the back before he shut them both inside.
Watching him round the front of his truck to slip behind the wheel, all broad-shouldered and steely-eyed, it was hard not to view him as her champion.
As they drove toward her condo, Grace glanced back at Simon, who was examining his shark’s stitched teeth. “Simon, would you keep this other shark for me and give it to Mateo when I bring him to meet you?” She held it out to him.
Simon’s silvery eyes rounded as he took it. “Is he coming soon?”
She had mentioned Mateo to him several times. “I hope so.” She faced forward as Amos sped them toward her neighborhood. The closer they got to it the more Grace’s anxiety rose at the prospect of spending another night in her condo.
Amos parked his car next to hers. Keeping his truck running, he held out a hand. “Let me see your house key. You two stay put. I’ll be right back.”
She felt foolish handing him her keyring. Simon was too busy playing an imaginary game with the stuffed sharks to ask what his father was up to. Grace watched with worry as Amos got out and strode to her stoop.
With a reassuring glance back at her, he unlocked her door and shut himself inside. Grace’s heart started racing for no reason. God forbid something awful happened to him! He and Simon were the best thing in her life since her wedding day, and her happiness back then had proven to be self-delusional.
Was she deluding herself now that Amos was growing on her? Not likely, since she’d cast aside her rose-colored lenses and tended to see only the worst in people. Besides, she wasn’t going to let herself fall in love with him. One heartbreak was all her spirit could withstand.
* * *
Closing the door behind him, Amos let his gaze drift around the open-concept lower level. Grace’s nutmeg scent hung in the air. Everything looked new, from the paint on the walls to the granite countertops in the kitchen, stainless steel appliances, and even the furniture. It was obvious Grace had wanted to start all over again after her divorce.
He didn’t expect to run into the soldier she’d described. All the same, he would just as soon not take chances—especially if Grace was embroiled in spiritual warfare. What kind of warrior would he be if he didn’t at least try to protect her, using the only weapon he knew worked?
Pulling the crucifix pendant out from under his white T-shirt, he held it up in front of him as he began making a sweep of her home. With windows in only the front and back walls, shadows pooled here and there, keeping him alert. He searched the front closet and the pantry in the kitchen, pausing to appreciate how neatly Grace stored her cans and boxes. The artwork on the stairs caught his eye as he started up them, murmuring his version of the lines he had once read in a chilling novel.
