or anything else. âI didnât, and for that I will always blame myself.â
âWhy was he on the street at that hour? Why slinking from shadow to shadow?â
âAshley is always on the street. He sleeps very little. When he saw us enter the park he was curious, even a little worried for me. He moved from hiding place to hiding place, watching us, meaning to protect me if I needed it.â Her voice quavered then steadied, her hand tightened over Jebâs. âAs you did.â
âThe man needs a keeper,â Jeb growled. âSomeone to protect him. â
âThereâs no one.â
âThen he should be sent to an institution, some place for people like him.â
âHe has been. When he was much younger a group of well-meaning citizens who felt just as you do, did what they thought was the kindest thing. Ashley very nearly didnât survive it. Heâs a wild creature that would rather die than live in a cage. Even a comfortable cage. Heâd never been considered a threat to anyone, and no one wanted his death laid at their door. So, the order for mandatory confinement was reversed and he was allowed to return to the streets. Heâs been a fixture there since I came to Charleston.
âI met him here in the park. I know now that was unusual. Ashley runs away from strangers. Iâd been in Charleston a month, and I was lonely. He sensed it. It was a common bond we shared.â
âHow did you discover he could paint?â
âQuite by accident. He left a bouquet of flowers at the back door of the gallery. I wanted to give something in return. I donât know why I chose watercolors. I certainly had no inkling of his talent...until I saw the first seascape.â
A whimper from the bedroom sent Nicole rushing to Ashley. Sheâd given him her room because it opened to the deck, and the sea and he would feel less hemmed in. As she knelt by his side, soothing him as he slept, she was more aware of his enormous size than sheâd ever been. He dwarfed the familiar room, making ordinary things seem small, and strange and close. For the first time, she understood his abnormal fear of houses. Walls closed him in. Roofs shut out the sky, the sun and the stars.
With a childâs concept of his size, he understood only that rooms were tiny boxes that cramped and contained him. Yet someone somewhere had recognized the greatest danger of his size, and had taught him to be unfailingly gentle. Nicole had seen the taunts and blows of bullies suffered with the same stoic patience that coaxed wounded birds and wild creatures like himself to his wondering hand.
Jeb had not needed force to subdue Ashley, but he couldnât be faulted for what he didnât know.
As she rose from the floor to look at the sleeping man, Jeb turned away from the door. Heâd watched and listened as she offered solace. Whatever her feelings, or her thoughts, her touch was assuring, her voice serene.
From the moment sheâd burst through the underbrush, catching at his arm, dragging him from the cowering, crying man, her concern had been for Ashley. The stab of anger it provoked in Jeb was shocking. Until he understood about Ashley, and then himself.
As he backed away from the door, the essence of a deeper, more far reaching understanding took root. No matter his size, no matter the strength buried in the massive body, Ashley was a child. Nicole had dealt with his fear and his need with an uncanny composure, on a level he could comprehend. She knew by instinct what to say, how to reassure him and comfort him.
An instinct that could only be borne of compassion and caring.
Suddenly everything was falling into place. What Jeb hoped and wanted to believe were merging into a single truth.
He needed to see her. He needed to look into her face, into her eyes.
God! He needed to know.
With an angry gesture he raked his hair back from his forehead. His mouth was a grim slash in his
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