Justin's Bride by Susan Mallery Page A

pig to market, then obligingly bent forward and blew on the soup. After a couple of minutes of listening to her huff and puff, he told her the soup should be fine now.
    Before he’d even chewed more than two bites of his steak, she’d finished the bowl and set the spoon neatly on the table.
    â€œYou still hungry?”
    â€œUh-huh.”
    He handed her another biscuit. This time she ate it slowly, a bite at a time. Her big, blue eyes studied him. He wondered what she was thinking. He cut another piece of his steak and chewed slowly. After swallowing, he took a sip of the whiskey that had come with his meal, then leaned back in his chair.
    â€œYou mind staying here tonight?” he asked.
    She shook her head.
    â€œI’ve never had a little girl around before, so you tell me if you need anything. And if you want to know something, you just go ahead and ask me. You’re safe here. Mrs. Jarvis isn’t coming back.”
    She set the half-eaten biscuit on the tablecloth and wiped her hands on her shirtfront. He could still see the faint outline of the bruise on her face. It made him want to find that wretched woman and show her what it felt like to be bullied by someone bigger and stronger.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” the child asked.
    â€œJustin.”
    â€œIs that for me?” Bonnie asked, pointing to a glass of milk.
    â€œSure is.”
    She took a long drink. “Am I going to stay here with you?”
    Justin didn’t know how to answer that. “I’m going to see if there’s a nice family who would like a pretty little girl like you. Until then, yes, you’ll stay here with me.”
    Bonnie carefully set the glass on the table. “Mrs. Jarvis says no one wants me. I’m a burden.” She tossed her black hair over her shoulders. “A burden is a bad thing, ain’t it?”
    He didn’t know how to answer that. She was only six years old, yet she sounded older, as if she’d experienced a lot of life in her years. “I don’t think you’re a burden.”
    â€œMrs. Jarvis took me to see that lady at the church.” She shivered. “She had a mean smile. I thought smiles were happy, but hers wasn’t. She said no one would take me in ’cause my mama was a p-postute.” She frowned and wrinkled her nose as she stumbled over the unfamiliar word. “Mrs. Jarvis said whores have bastards same as other people. Mrs. Jarvis always said Mama was a whore. I’m afraid to ask her what that is. Do you know?”
    Justin stared at the pretty child across the table. He studied her big eyes, the bruise on her face, the now-clean scratches on her hands. He’d seen enough of life to know evil people flourished everywhere. He shouldn’t be surprised by the cruelty. But every now and then something caught him unaware.
    He fought the anger, knowing it would frighten Bonnie. Mrs. Jarvis was a poor uneducated dirt farmer who had probably grown up in poverty and would die that way. Colleen Estes had no such excuse. She was the wife of a minister. She was supposed to be an example for the community. He gripped his glass so tightly he thought it might shatter. He’d come back to Landing with the best of intentions. He was beginning to wonder if he was destined to relive the past without a chance to change the outcome.
    â€œThe lady at the church was wrong to say those words, Bonnie,” he said slowly. “I knew your mama. She was very sweet and pretty. I haven’t seen it yet, but I think you have her smile.”
    The solemn little girl brightened a little. “I thought Mama was pretty, too. When she came to see me, she would let me brush her hair. When she had to leave, she would cry. She said they were good tears. Her ‘I love you’ tears, she said. Why does crying mean you love someone?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    She took the last bite of the biscuit.
    â€œDo you want some more