He lifted a shoulder. “It’s what I do.”
“Who are you? Some kind of superhero?” She retrieved the still intact box filled with pastries, nearly dropping it again from unsteady hands.
“I’ve been called a lot of things. A hero isn’t one of them.” He stepped close. “Allow me.” He slipped the box from her grasp. “I’ll walk with you to the Hope Center.”
Blood drained from her cheeks clear to her toes, and her legs threatened to give out. “H-how did you know where I was going? Were you following me?” Sierra took a step back ready to flee.
“Take it easy. I’m not going to hurt you.” He nodded toward the box, yet his gaze remained steady on her. “I assumed you were walking to the center because the lid has ‘donations’ written on it, and you were going in that direction. As far as following you?” He shook his head. “I was just heading there myself looking for a hot meal.”
Sierra took in his appearance again. His hair, although clean, was longer than it should be and a bit disheveled. A patchy, untrimmed beard covered his square jaw. Dirt splotched his black coat, and he wore sweatpants with scattered holes. The soles of his shoes appeared so thin she doubted they protected his feet.
“O-oh m-my,” she stuttered. “I’m sorry. I just…I didn’t realize you were…you know.” The warmth creeping up Sierra’s cheeks turned into a blazing inferno.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Well, I’d better get going. Luanne’s expecting these.” Sierra attempted to take the box, but he did not release his hold.
“After you.”
She thought to argue, but a glance in his determined eyes told her he wasn’t about to change his mind. One block separated them from the Hope Center. Although Sierra had made the trip several times, she never realized how long that block took to walk until she had to travel next to an enigmatic stranger. The man acted like saving lives was something he did every day, speaking and moving with a quiet inner confidence, and looking at her as if he knew more than he should.
He tossed a quick look back over his shoulder before catching her gaze. “I didn’t mean to frighten you and make you run back there.”
“It’s not your fault. I normally wouldn’t have thought twice about someone walking behind me, but things haven’t been normal in a long time.” Images of Kevin flashed in her mind—his charming smile, his evil intent. He’d taken her sense of security and crushed it in his ruthless grasp. She trailed her fingers along her neck, remembering the pain he’d inflicted.
“Did something happen to you?”
Sierra couldn’t blame him for being curious about her behavior, which he probably considered more than a little off-balance, but she didn’t want to explain. “A lot of things have happened.”
He nodded as if deep in thought. As they approached the center, he shifted the box and opened the door. “Let’s get out of the cold.”
She stepped inside and the aroma of steaming soup and toasted bread filled her senses. Several tables laden with food lined the front wall, and about a dozen people stood in line for food, while others sat eating at long banquet tables. Luanne, the center’s manager, had brightened up the place with splashes of color. Yellow tablecloths and a red rose adorned each table providing a welcoming atmosphere.
Sierra turned to her rescuer. “The pastries go directly into the kitchen. Then the volunteers take care of the distribution.” She reached for the box again.
The man shifted the box, but didn’t release it. “I’ll follow you.”
“If you insist.” She had been up since before dawn, helping in Allie’s Bakery, and was too tired to argue. She dodged the people in line and headed for the kitchen. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“You didn’t ask.”
“I’m asking now.” She pressed, undaunted.
He nodded. “Chase Price. And you are?”
“Sierra.” Uncomfortable with giving out her last name, she added quickly, “Well…Mr. Price, if there’s anything I can do to repay you—”
“Call me Chase. And as far as repaying me, you can stay safe. That’ll be sufficient for me.”
“God’s grace is sufficient.” The words popped out automatically. The pastor at Mountain Rise Community Church had spoken about how God’s grace is made perfect in weakness. That passage had stood out among the rest in last Sunday’s service, as if God was telling her she wasn’t on her own in her plight.
Chase paused. “I know that one. Isn’t it in Corinthians?”
Sierra stopped at the kitchen’s threshold. Loud conversations faded as she stared at him. “You know Scripture?”
“God and I haven’t exactly been on speaking terms lately,”—he paused—”but I do remember plenty about what’s in the Bible.” His expression hinted at a subtle, yet deep-rooted defiance.
“That’s a shame. I mean…about the part where you don’t talk to God. I wouldn’t know what to do without Him. He’s been a great comfort to me, especially lately.”
Chase raised his brows, but didn’t comment; instead he knocked on the kitchen door. “Luanne?”
“Is that you, Chase?” Luanne replied. “Come on back.”
“You know Luanne?” Sierra followed Chase through the kitchen, surprised again by this stranger.
“I’ve been in the area a few weeks. I come and go on occasion, and I’ve had the opportunity to speak with her a time or two.”
“You come and go? So you’re a drifter?”
“Something like that. How about you?”
“I usually tend to stay in one place.” Having lived in Seattle her entire life, with exception to the last few weeks, Sierra considered herself anything but a drifter. She’d never even ventured out of the country.
Chase sidestepped around a counter where a volunteer buttered toasted bread. “I meant how long have you known Luanne?”
“Oh.” Sierra had become accustomed to giving little information, and she cautiously replied. “For a while.”
If Chase noticed her evasive answer, he didn’t show it. He scooted past an older woman stirring a pot of steaming soup. “With both of us coming by the center, I suppose it was a matter of time before we
ran
into each other.”
Chase’s casual reference to their unorthodox meeting sent Sierra’s heart racing all over again. He’d crashed into her with the force of a Mack truck. “I’d call it more of a head-on-collision.”
“I’m just glad I got a hold of you before that SUV did.”
Sierra’s skin heated as she recalled the feel of his strong arms folded around her—something she wasn’t likely to forget anytime soon. “Me too.” She took a steadying breath before following him around rows of shelves. They passed a variety of vegetable cans ranging from green beans to stewed tomatoes before finding Luanne.
She turned and dusted work-worn hands. Her silvery-blue irises lit up as she looked at Chase. “I see you’ve met Sierra?”
He nodded. “We…bumped into each other a few moments ago.”
“Well, it’s good to see you’re still around. I was about to send out a posse.”
“It’s only been two days,” Chase gave a lopsided grin. “No need to hunt me down. I can take care of myself.”
Sierra bit her lower lip as she sneaked covert glances his way. Something about his demeanor supported his claim. In spite of his ragged outward appearance, he held an inner confidence that couldn’t be denied. Not just anyone would’ve risked their life for another, and as she carefully watched Chase, more questions arose as to why he did.
Luanne shook her head, planting hands on ample hips. “Two days is too long,” she chastised. “You need nourishment
every
day.”
“Don’t worry about me.” He glanced at Sierra. “She’s probably hungrier than I am. Look at her. A stiff breeze could carry her away.”
Suddenly self-conscious, heat rose to Sierra’s cheeks. Her waist and hips had shrunk a few sizes. She used to go to the gym. She used to eat several small healthy meals a day, but her new life allowed no such luxuries. Sometimes, she only ate one full meal in twenty-four hours.
Luanne’s arched brows rose, disappearing beneath red, spiky bangs. “You’re right. She’s too skinny. Chase, hand over the pastry box and make sure this girl gets some food. I hear the soup’s real good today.”
The leftover macaroni and cheese in Sierra’s refrigerator held no appeal, and her mouth watered. Hot soup, in any flavor, sounded delicious. But, Luanne had enough souls to look after without worrying about her. “I’m OK. I don’t need—”
“God gives each of us a mission in life.” Luanne fingered her short hair, eyes rounding into a vulnerable state. “Mine happens to be feeding hungry people. You wouldn’t want me to fail at my life’s work, would you?”
“Well…” Sierra hesitated.
“Stay and eat.” Chase urged her. “I could use the company. Besides, you’d get soaked if you leave now.”
Sierra looked past Luanne, out the kitchen window. Drizzling rain had turned solid, pelting the sidewalk and overflowing gutters. With Kevin a constant threat, she feared walking to the apartment in the dark, and the rain only made matters worse.
Lord, will I ever feel safe again?
Sierra returned her gaze to Luanne’s hopeful eyes. “I guess I could hang around a few minutes.”
Luanne nodded in approval. “Enjoy the food, and I hope to see you tomorrow with another box of goodies.”
Sierra didn’t know what each day would bring, so she answered with a non-committal smile. She left the kitchen and took the last place in line, sensing Chase not far behind.
“I’m glad you decided to stay.” His words came out in a low timbre, just over her shoulder.
Sierra had felt alone for so long, the words sent a subtle warmth through her, but she cautioned herself to remain on guard. “Why does it matter to you?”
“Are you always this…friendly?”
Sierra realized how she must’ve sounded. She didn’t usually return kindness with hostility and guilt nudged her. She sent an apologetic glance his way. “Don’t take it personal.”
Chase picked up two plastic trays as they inched forward in line. “What are you afraid of? Or, should I say
whom
?”
“I’m afraid of a lot of things. The longer I live, the longer the list gets.”
“You’re avoiding my question.” His steady gaze held hers hostage.
Sierra’s guilt fled and she bristled. “Why should I tell you, a stranger?”
He handed over a tray. “What could it hurt? Maybe I could help.”
“There’s nothing you can do.”
“Don’t be too sure.” His words held a quiet self-assurance.
Sierra studied his tall, broad-shouldered physique. She had no doubt Chase could stand up to Kevin, but why would he? “It doesn’t matter anyway. As I said, you don’t even know me.”
“Is it that unreasonable for a guy to want to help a beautiful woman in distress?”
Beautiful?
A volunteer ladled soup into a bowl and handed it to Sierra. She nearly spilled it. She hadn’t felt beautiful since Kevin convinced her she was ordinary and unattractive. She’d long ago recognized his verbal abuse and had braced herself against it, but his words had left scars and caused doubts to run rampant.
A loud grumble down the line roused her, and she grabbed a piece of bread and a cup of iced-tea. After thanking the volunteers, she found an empty table. Settling onto a bench seat, she said a quick blessing and then sampled the soup. The warm, salty broth and silky noodles soothed her rattled nerves.
Chase swung a leg over the seat opposite her and sat, half facing her, half facing the crowd. “I wanted to get a pastry, but they’re gone already. It’s too bad. I was looking forward to having one.”
Thankful Chase had changed the subject, Sierra relaxed and shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. You can always stop by Allie’s Bakery. Everything is warm and fresh in the morning.” As soon as the words slipped out, she wished she could retrieve them. What if Chase didn’t have the money? She scrambled for a resolution that would absolve both her insensitive blunder and her curt behavior. “It’ll be my treat. It’s the least I can do. You saved my life.”
“In that case. How can I refuse?” Chase smiled and shifted his bowl close. “This smells good. Lately, it’s been a luxury to get a hot meal.”
Sierra’s curiosity sparked. “Where do you go when you’re ‘drifting around’?”
He took a bite of crusty bread and dusted crumbs from his fingers. “Here and there.”
“Have you considered staying here at the Hope Center? There are lockers to secure your things and plenty of cots to sleep on.”
Chase looked around and shook his head. “It doesn’t suit my needs. Besides, I have a place to stay.”
“A place? I hope you’re not sleeping in a cardboard box in some alley.”
He quirked a brow. “Why would it matter to you? We don’t even know each other.”
Sierra recognized the words she’d spoken moments ago. “Fair enough. Well, wherever it is, I hope you’re safe.”
“It’s as safe as anywhere else.” His gaze roamed, stopping briefly at each person in the room.
“Looking for someone?” Sierra took in her surroundings. Faces blurred together—young and old, men and women, and a handful of children. Her heart twisted. A small girl, no older than five, sucked her thumb while clutching a ragged doll. The child’s mother met Sierra’s eyes, mirroring the desperation thrumming inside her.
Chase finished his soup and drank his tea in a few long swallows. After setting down the cup he swiped his coat sleeve across his lips. “I’m looking around because I like to know who’s in the room with me.”
“I do too.”
He crossed his arms and leaned forward. “Yeah? Did you notice the guy staring at you from the far corner?”
Sierra’s lungs froze. Her heart skipped and then beat in a wild frenzy. Forcing herself to remain seated, she gripped the table’s edge. “Where?” She looked from person to person. A man wearing a blue-and-white ball cap met her gaze. His eye color was different. His shoulders were too thin. His face was long and narrow. It wasn’t Kevin. Sierra dismissed the blatant, blue-eyed leer and sagged in relief.
Chase’s features hardened. His piercing gaze delved into hers as if reading every thought, fear and emotion. “Tell me what he did, Sierra, and I’ll make sure it never happens again.”
2
Sierra Malone looked ready to bolt. Blood drained, leaving her skin ghostly white and emphasizing wide, haunted eyes. She’d barely eaten, but shoved aside her bowl as if it pained her to look at it. Slim fingers smoothed her neck where fading bruises marred her skin. The sight left Chase aching for revenge.