Shelter Mountain. Робин Карр

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      “No. No, it’s okay. I think I’ll have some of this brandy now. I sure appreciate it. I’ll be on my way in a—”

      “Relax,” he said, and hoped he didn’t sound harsh. It took a while for people to warm up to him. He transferred her dishes to the bar, clearing her place. “There isn’t anywhere around here to get a room,” he said when he returned to the table. He sat down across from her, leaned toward her. “The roads aren’t so good out this way, especially in the rain. Really, you don’t want to head back out there. You’re kinda stuck.”

      “Oh, no! Listen, if you’ll just tell me the closest place… I have to find something….”

      “Take it easy,” he said. “I got an extra room. No problem. It’s a bad night.” Predictably, her eyes widened. “It’s okay. It’s got a lock.”

      “I didn’t mean…”

      “It’s okay. I’m kind of scary-looking. I know it.”

      “No. It’s just—”

      “Don’t worry about it. I know how I look. Works great on guys. They back right off.” He gave her a small smile, not showing any teeth.

      “You don’t have to do this,” she said. “I have a car….”

      “Jesus, I couldn’t stand to think of you sleeping in a car!” he said. “Sorry. Sometimes I sound as bad as I look. But no kidding—if the kid’s not feeling so good…”

      “I can’t,” she said. “I don’t know you….”

      “Yeah, I know. Probably makes you wonder, huh? But I’m way safer than I look. You’d be okay here. Better here than at some hotel on the freeway, guaranteed. A whole lot more okay than out in that storm, trying to deal with those mountain roads.”

      She looked at him hard for a minute. Then she said, “No. I’m just going to press on. If you’ll tell me how much—”

      “Pretty rough-looking bruise you have there,” Preacher said. “Can I get you anything for that lip? I have a first aid kit in the kitchen.”

      “I’m fine,” she said, shaking her head. “How about if we settle up and—”

      “I don’t have anything for a kid’s fever. Except a room. With a lock on the door so you feel safe. You don’t want to pass up an offer like that in this weather, with a kid who might be coming down with something. I look big and mean, but I’m about as safe as you get. Unless you’re wildlife.” He grinned at her.

      “You don’t look mean,” she said timidly.

      “It can make women and little kids real nervous—and I hate that part. You on the run?” he asked her.

      She lowered her eyes.

      “What d’you think? I’m gonna call the cops? Who did that to you?”

      She immediately started to cry.

      “Aw. Hey. Don’t.”

      She put her head down on folded arms on the tabletop and sobbed.

      “Aw. Come on. Don’t do that. I never know what to do.” Hesitatingly, squeamishly, he touched her back and she jumped. He touched one of her hands, very lightly. “Come on, don’t cry. Maybe I can help.”

      “No. You can’t.”

      “Never know,” he said, lightly patting her hand.

      She lifted her head. “Sorry,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I’m exhausted, I guess. It was an accident. It was really stupid, but I was struggling with Chris—” She stopped suddenly and looked around nervously, as though worried about being overheard. She licked her lower lip. “I was trying to get Christopher in the car, hanging on to stuff, and I opened the door right into my face. Hard. You shouldn’t be in a hurry, you know? It was just a little accident. It’s fine.” She lifted the napkin to her nose.

      “Right,” Preacher said. “Sure. Too bad about that. Looks sore.”

      “It’ll be fine.”

      “Sure it will. So—what’s your name?” When she didn’t answer for a long moment, he said, “It’s okay. I’m not going to repeat it. If anyone came looking for you, I’d never mention seeing you.” Her eyes grew round and her mouth stood open slightly. “Oh, damn, that was the wrong thing to say, wasn’t it?” he said. “All I mean is, if you’re hiding or running, it’s okay. You can hide or run here. I won’t give you up. What’s your name?”

      She reached out and ran her fingers gently through the boy’s hair. Silent.

      Preacher got up and flipped off the Open sign and threw the latch on the door. “There,” he said, sitting down with her again, the little boy taking up much of the table beside them. “Try to take it easy,” he said softly. “No one here’s gonna hurt you. I can be a friend. I’m sure not scared of the weak dick who’d do that to a woman. Sorry.”

      She looked down to avoid eye contact. “It was the car door…”

      “Not afraid of any mean old car door, either,” he said.

      She gave a little huff of laughter, but had trouble looking him in the eye. She picked up her brandy with a slightly trembling hand and lifted it to her mouth.

      “Yeah, there you go,” Preacher said. “If you think the boy needs a doctor tonight, there’s one right across the street. I could go get him. Or take you over.”

      “I think he’s just coming down with a cold. I’m keeping a close eye on him.”

      “If he needs medicine or something…”

      “I think he’s okay….”

      “My buddy, the guy who owns this place, his wife is a nurse. A special nurse—she can give medicine, see patients…. She takes real good care of the women around here. She’d come in ten minutes. If a woman makes a difference, under the circumstances.”

      “Circumstances?” she asked, a panicked look floating across her features.

      “Car door, and all that…”

      “No. Really. It’s just been a long day. You know.”

      “Yeah, must’ve been. And the last hour or so off the freeway, that must’ve been pretty awful. If you’re not used to those roads.”

      “A little scary,” she admitted softly. “And not having any idea where I am…”

      “You’re in Virgin River now, that’s what matters. It’s just a little crimp in the road, but the people are good. Help out where they can. You know?”

      She gave him a small, shy smile, but her eyes were downcast again.

      “What’s your name?” he asked again. She pursed her lips tight, shaking her head. Her eyes welled up again. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “Really.”

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