She couldn’t imagine what he wanted or even how he came to be here.
“Do you have a place to go?” he asked.
Fresh tears welled and rolled down her cheeks. He was the first to ask, and Luther was still screaming.
Johnny cupped the back of the baby’s head and rubbed his fingers up and down the back of Luther’s neck, then pointed at his car across the street and the two little heads peering over the dash.
“I know we live on the wrong side of town, but my brothers and I would be honored to offer you shelter until you figure out what you need to do.”
Dori’s heart skipped a beat. They barely knew each other, but it was the only offer she’d had, and she had to think of Luther first. She looked down at the baby and started to sob.
“I don’t know what’s wrong. He won’t stop crying. He might cry all night.”
“Give him to me,” Johnny said softly, then scooped the baby out of her arms.
It took Luther a few seconds to realize he was no longer in his mama’s arms, and he actually paused in mid-scream to stare at the stranger who was holding him.
“You’re gonna be okay, little man,” Johnny said.
The baby’s gaze was fixed on Johnny’s face. He was used to being carried by a man and seemed to like the sound of Johnny’s deep voice.
Dori stared at her baby and took it as a sign. She picked up the diaper bag and their blankets.
“You are letting yourself in for an awful lot,” she said.
Before he thought, Johnny wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“We’ve lived through worse,” he said softly. “Come on, Dori. We don’t live in a fancy house, but it’s clean and I can promise you’ll be safe.”
She stared for a few moments longer, and when Luther Joe suddenly dropped his head on Johnny Pine’s shoulder and closed his eyes, exhausted and too worn out to utter another sob, she took it as another sign.
“Granddaddy’s dead,” she whispered. “I don’t have anyone but Luther.”
Johnny sighed. “I know the feeling. Grab my arm, girl. It’s chilly and it’s late.”
Dori’s last line of resistance was gone. He’d promised safety and shelter, and Luther Joe was asleep. Grief would come later. She glanced over her shoulder one last time at the fiery remnants of home and then slipped a hand beneath his elbow and followed him to the car.
* * *
Pansy Jones had felt guilty for not offering shelter and was still watching from her living room window. Bart, her husband, had been adamant, warning her before she’d even left their property that he wasn’t having some squalling baby in their house, and after twenty-seven years of marriage, she knew better than to argue. She never won an argument.
When she saw the Pine boy cross the street, curiosity raised its ugly head. And when she saw them talking, then watched Johnny Pine soothe the crying baby like it was his own, she immediately wondered if it was. No one knew the father’s identity. Maybe it was him!
Watching Dori go with him to their car and drive away conveniently absolved her of guilt. Johnny must be the mysterious father. It was a ridiculous stab in the dark, but believing he’d heard about the fire and came to their rescue made everything better for her.
Chapter 7
Johnny handed the sleeping baby off to Dori and then shut the car door. She jumped at the sound, but Luther seemed oblivious. The quiet inside the car after all the sirens made the air feel heavy. She could still smell smoke and looked across the street at the firemen still spraying water on the blaze. She wondered where they’d taken Granddaddy. It occurred to her that there were no clothes left to bury him in, and then she bit her lip to keep from bursting into a fresh set of tears.
His phone and the charger cord were in the pocket of her sweatpants. Officer Pittman had given them to her after they’d taken him away. She’d have to call Lovey at the restaurant and tell her she wasn’t coming to work and then shivered.
She was aware of the two boys
“Do you have a place to go?” he asked.
Fresh tears welled and rolled down her cheeks. He was the first to ask, and Luther was still screaming.
Johnny cupped the back of the baby’s head and rubbed his fingers up and down the back of Luther’s neck, then pointed at his car across the street and the two little heads peering over the dash.
“I know we live on the wrong side of town, but my brothers and I would be honored to offer you shelter until you figure out what you need to do.”
Dori’s heart skipped a beat. They barely knew each other, but it was the only offer she’d had, and she had to think of Luther first. She looked down at the baby and started to sob.
“I don’t know what’s wrong. He won’t stop crying. He might cry all night.”
“Give him to me,” Johnny said softly, then scooped the baby out of her arms.
It took Luther a few seconds to realize he was no longer in his mama’s arms, and he actually paused in mid-scream to stare at the stranger who was holding him.
“You’re gonna be okay, little man,” Johnny said.
The baby’s gaze was fixed on Johnny’s face. He was used to being carried by a man and seemed to like the sound of Johnny’s deep voice.
Dori stared at her baby and took it as a sign. She picked up the diaper bag and their blankets.
“You are letting yourself in for an awful lot,” she said.
Before he thought, Johnny wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“We’ve lived through worse,” he said softly. “Come on, Dori. We don’t live in a fancy house, but it’s clean and I can promise you’ll be safe.”
She stared for a few moments longer, and when Luther Joe suddenly dropped his head on Johnny Pine’s shoulder and closed his eyes, exhausted and too worn out to utter another sob, she took it as another sign.
“Granddaddy’s dead,” she whispered. “I don’t have anyone but Luther.”
Johnny sighed. “I know the feeling. Grab my arm, girl. It’s chilly and it’s late.”
Dori’s last line of resistance was gone. He’d promised safety and shelter, and Luther Joe was asleep. Grief would come later. She glanced over her shoulder one last time at the fiery remnants of home and then slipped a hand beneath his elbow and followed him to the car.
* * *
Pansy Jones had felt guilty for not offering shelter and was still watching from her living room window. Bart, her husband, had been adamant, warning her before she’d even left their property that he wasn’t having some squalling baby in their house, and after twenty-seven years of marriage, she knew better than to argue. She never won an argument.
When she saw the Pine boy cross the street, curiosity raised its ugly head. And when she saw them talking, then watched Johnny Pine soothe the crying baby like it was his own, she immediately wondered if it was. No one knew the father’s identity. Maybe it was him!
Watching Dori go with him to their car and drive away conveniently absolved her of guilt. Johnny must be the mysterious father. It was a ridiculous stab in the dark, but believing he’d heard about the fire and came to their rescue made everything better for her.
Chapter 7
Johnny handed the sleeping baby off to Dori and then shut the car door. She jumped at the sound, but Luther seemed oblivious. The quiet inside the car after all the sirens made the air feel heavy. She could still smell smoke and looked across the street at the firemen still spraying water on the blaze. She wondered where they’d taken Granddaddy. It occurred to her that there were no clothes left to bury him in, and then she bit her lip to keep from bursting into a fresh set of tears.
His phone and the charger cord were in the pocket of her sweatpants. Officer Pittman had given them to her after they’d taken him away. She’d have to call Lovey at the restaurant and tell her she wasn’t coming to work and then shivered.
She was aware of the two boys
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