Guardian Angel (Callaghan Brothers #5)

“Yes,” she answered, looking a bit surprised. “More than once, actually. They just seemed so... sure.” She shook her head. “I’ve never been that certain about anything to commit myself like that.”


“You seem pretty committed to me.” Why else would a girl from a wealthy family spend twelve years in the cesspools of the world trying to help others? Why else would she be here now, turning a shelter into a home for people she’d never met when she could be lounging up in her wealthy brother’s townhouse handling everything with a few taps of her perfectly manicured nails?

“This?” she asked, waving her hand dismissively. “This isn’t commitment. I can walk away anytime. That’s not the same thing as a vow.”

Kane disagreed with Rebecca’s self-assessment. It was exactly the fact that she stayed even though she didn’t have to that made her so damn remarkable. But once again, he seemed to grasp something she didn’t. She thought she had a choice, but she didn’t. Not really. Helping others was part of who she was, whether she recognized it or not. She needed to feel needed, and God help the sorry bastards who weren’t cognizant enough to ensure that she always felt needed.

“Is that what you’re going to do then? Walk away?” he asked, unsure he wanted to hear the answer.

*

Would she? Yes, she realized with a sudden, inexplicable sadness. Pine Ridge was lovely, and so were the people, but she didn’t belong here. She pretended not to notice, but she had seen the sympathetic looks the others gave her, heard their whisper-soft voices grow silent when she approached.

She might as well be a nun for the way people treated her, with an almost quiet reverence that inwardly she found quite laughable, really. Once again she found herself in between worlds, not fitting into either. Too pious for contemporaries, and too sinful for the holy.

If she looked at things from their point of view, she could see where they were coming from. But that didn’t make it the truth. It was only a false perception. And it didn’t make it any easier.

She felt so disconnected now, so out of synch with everyone else. They didn’t understand what it was like to be truly hungry to the point where you could barely stand the cramping pain. Or have to sleep on the ground, learning to hold your head upon your shoulder to lessen the chance that bugs would crawl into your ears or eyes or nose. They didn’t know what it was like to watch people die needlessly from things that could have been cured with a simple shot of penicillin. It was the simple things that so many people took for granted, the things that meant the difference between life and death elsewhere.

But she did. She knew. Sometimes she wished she didn’t, because it made her different. She couldn’t bring herself to care about things that so many others found important. Clothes. Cars. The latest reality show. Whatever.

As long as she remained busy and focused, she could make it through each day. Maybe that was why she always sought out the areas that needed help – because then she was so busy she didn’t have time to think about her own messed up life. But once everyone was back where they belonged, then what would she do? How would she fill her days? Could she picture herself here long-term, being the one they included only as a favor to her brother out of pity or a sense of responsibility?

The answer was no, she couldn’t. There was only one person she felt truly comfortable around, one person who knew some of her deepest, darkest secrets, like the fact that she had killed people that night. And despite his kindness, he was beyond her reach. It had become clear on several occasions that there was a definite line drawn between them. The few times she’d crossed that line his reactions had been more than telling. That was okay. If this was all they had for a little while, so be it. If nothing else, she’d learned to appreciate each day and the good things that came along, because Lord knew, it could all be gone tomorrow.

“Probably,” she said finally with a distinct twinge of sadness. “When everyone goes home and the shelter is no longer needed, neither will I be.”





Chapter Six




Even though he had been expecting it, he hated the way that confirmation made him feel. The idea of not seeing her again was unpleasant, even if he couldn’t allow himself to hope for anything more than they shared right now. Damn it, she was the only person he actually wanted to be around.

“People always need help. They need someone to care.”

She smiled at him then, an enigmatic little smile. The sadness it held cut through him like a finely honed blade. “Some people do. Then there are those that don’t seem to need anyone at all. They’re the lucky ones.”

Was she speaking in general terms, he wondered, or did she have someone specific in mind? Him, perhaps? It would be true enough. He had always been happier alone. At least until Rebecca came along.