place you could stay."
"I don't have the money for hotels," he said.
"No, no, it's nothing like that," Ally said. "Come with me."
He followed her outside and then off the porch. She stopped at the corner of the house.
"See that path to the left of the twin pines?"
He nodded.
"There's an empty cabin about two miles up through the trees. The power is still on. You're welcome to stay there for a while. People up here mind their own business."
Wes stared at the narrow, winding path for what seemed like forever. The thought of a roof over his head and all the solitude he wanted was tempting, but it was hard to trust her.
"The owner might not appreciate a squatter."
"My mother's oldest brother, Dooley Brown, lived there. When Uncle Doo died several months ago, he left it to me. It's mine to do with as I choose. I choose to offer you shelter. What's so bad about that?"
"But you don't know me," he finally said.
"That's right, I don't," Ally said.
"Then why are you being so...so...nice?"
Ally laid her hand on his forearm. She meant nothing by it, but when he flinched, she moved away.
"I don't think you're here by accident," she said.
Wes frowned. "What the hell do you mean?"
"I think God led you here to rest."
"There is no God," Wes said.
Ally's eyes widened in shock.
"Did you ever stop to think that maybe God isn't missing? That maybe you're the one who's lost?"
Wes groaned, and the pain that came with it scalded him raw. He stared at Ally as if she'd just grown horns.
"Who are you, woman? All I asked from you was a glass of water. It doesn't give you the right to play with my life."
His anger was sudden and frightening, and Ally wanted to hide, yet an inner strength held her steadfast. She sensed this man was losing ground faster than he could gain it, and while it was none of her business, she couldn't seem to be able to step back.
"I'm sorry if I've offended you," she said. "Godspeed, Wes Holden. Whether you believe in Him or not, I can promise that He's the only one who's going to save you."
"I don't need saving," Wes said, and started walking, but Ally noticed that he took the path she'd pointed out, rather than going back the way he'd come.
She didn't know how she was feeling and wasn't brave enough to decipher her emotions.
For now, it was enough to know he hadn't gone too far.
Seven
Wes stayed angry all the way up the path and didn't know why. It took a while for him to realize that today was the first time he'd felt positive emotion of any kind since—
The moment his thoughts went to the day of the bombing, he shut them off.
"Focus," he muttered as he continued to put one foot in front of the other. "Focus on anything but that."
A few yards ahead, a small brown bird flew across his line of vision. He paused to watch as it landed on the branch of a nearby tree. A few hops led it straight to a nest of woven grasses and twigs, where it quickly disappeared.
A knot formed in his throat. Even that bird knew where it belonged. He wished he was as confident. Then he turned around and looked back the way he'd come. The world that he'd known was gone. If this path led to something—anything—it would be better than where he'd been. He didn't know what to make of that woman—what was her name—Alice? No, Ally. That was what she'd called herself. Ally Monroe. She'd offered him a place to stay, and despite his vocal objections, he'd known the moment he'd seen the leaf-covered path winding up this mountain that he was going to follow to see where it led.
He settled his hat a little more firmly on his head and once again turned around, only this time he was treading on new territory. Whatever lay ahead had to be better than where he'd been. He shifted the strap of his bag to a more comfortable position on his shoulder and continued walking.
A short while
"I don't have the money for hotels," he said.
"No, no, it's nothing like that," Ally said. "Come with me."
He followed her outside and then off the porch. She stopped at the corner of the house.
"See that path to the left of the twin pines?"
He nodded.
"There's an empty cabin about two miles up through the trees. The power is still on. You're welcome to stay there for a while. People up here mind their own business."
Wes stared at the narrow, winding path for what seemed like forever. The thought of a roof over his head and all the solitude he wanted was tempting, but it was hard to trust her.
"The owner might not appreciate a squatter."
"My mother's oldest brother, Dooley Brown, lived there. When Uncle Doo died several months ago, he left it to me. It's mine to do with as I choose. I choose to offer you shelter. What's so bad about that?"
"But you don't know me," he finally said.
"That's right, I don't," Ally said.
"Then why are you being so...so...nice?"
Ally laid her hand on his forearm. She meant nothing by it, but when he flinched, she moved away.
"I don't think you're here by accident," she said.
Wes frowned. "What the hell do you mean?"
"I think God led you here to rest."
"There is no God," Wes said.
Ally's eyes widened in shock.
"Did you ever stop to think that maybe God isn't missing? That maybe you're the one who's lost?"
Wes groaned, and the pain that came with it scalded him raw. He stared at Ally as if she'd just grown horns.
"Who are you, woman? All I asked from you was a glass of water. It doesn't give you the right to play with my life."
His anger was sudden and frightening, and Ally wanted to hide, yet an inner strength held her steadfast. She sensed this man was losing ground faster than he could gain it, and while it was none of her business, she couldn't seem to be able to step back.
"I'm sorry if I've offended you," she said. "Godspeed, Wes Holden. Whether you believe in Him or not, I can promise that He's the only one who's going to save you."
"I don't need saving," Wes said, and started walking, but Ally noticed that he took the path she'd pointed out, rather than going back the way he'd come.
She didn't know how she was feeling and wasn't brave enough to decipher her emotions.
For now, it was enough to know he hadn't gone too far.
Seven
Wes stayed angry all the way up the path and didn't know why. It took a while for him to realize that today was the first time he'd felt positive emotion of any kind since—
The moment his thoughts went to the day of the bombing, he shut them off.
"Focus," he muttered as he continued to put one foot in front of the other. "Focus on anything but that."
A few yards ahead, a small brown bird flew across his line of vision. He paused to watch as it landed on the branch of a nearby tree. A few hops led it straight to a nest of woven grasses and twigs, where it quickly disappeared.
A knot formed in his throat. Even that bird knew where it belonged. He wished he was as confident. Then he turned around and looked back the way he'd come. The world that he'd known was gone. If this path led to something—anything—it would be better than where he'd been. He didn't know what to make of that woman—what was her name—Alice? No, Ally. That was what she'd called herself. Ally Monroe. She'd offered him a place to stay, and despite his vocal objections, he'd known the moment he'd seen the leaf-covered path winding up this mountain that he was going to follow to see where it led.
He settled his hat a little more firmly on his head and once again turned around, only this time he was treading on new territory. Whatever lay ahead had to be better than where he'd been. He shifted the strap of his bag to a more comfortable position on his shoulder and continued walking.
A short while
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