Page 133 of Unseen Danger

“Don’t worry about me, child.”

“What makes you think I’m worrying?”

He chuckled. “Since you was a little girl, you always got them lines between your eyebrows and that cute pucker whenever you was worried about something or somebody.”

“Okay.” She lifted the pitcher and stepped to the table. “Seeing as you don’t want me to worry, then you better give me something else to think about.” She grabbed the empty glass that sat in front of Pops and filled it with lemonade. “Like what you and Branson talked about.”

“We talked about the most important things.”

“Like?”

His lips formed the pucker he’d just accused her of having. “He’s a real good man. A man of faith.”

Nevaeh narrowed her eyes as she lowered the pitcher to the table and sank into the chair kitty-corner to Pops. “Why do I get the idea you’re saying that’s bad?”

“It’s good. Real good. He could do you good.”

Apprehension clustered in Nevaeh’s stomach as she watched her grandpa closely. His expression wasn’t giving much away except that he hadn’t said all he had to say yet. “But?”

“I know you sweet on him.”

She straightened. A smile found her face. Not the wording she’d have used, but she couldn’t deny it. Didn’t really want to. And it was probably written all over her, anyway, especially when she’d just been mooning over the man as she watched him through the window.

“Yeah, Pops. I’m sweet on him.” She covered his hand with her own. “But that’s good, right? You said he’s a good man. And I know you like that he believes in God like you do.”

“Honey, the problem is you need to get right with God before you can be with a man like Branson.”

Nevaeh pulled back, surprise hitting her like a slap in the face. She removed her hand, letting it rest on the edge of the table. “What do you mean? Did he say that?”

“He don’t have to. I know these things. You could never jive with each other. You’d be tugging two different directions every day of your lives. ’Cause Branson, he a man of God.”

Nevaeh pressed her lips together. “So I wouldn’t be good enough for him?”

“Now come on, honey, you know that ain’t it. You rejected God after you got beat up. I saw it soon as you pushed Him away.”

Frustration surged up from Nevaeh’s belly. She shoved back her chair and stood, stalking to the counter just for something to do other than talking back to Pops. She’d been raised never to do that.

“Thing is, you rejected Him, but He never left you.”

Pops’ voice hit her back as she faced the kitchen window.

Branson set down a box to lift little one-year-old Crieg over his arms and land him on those muscular shoulders. Handon, only two years older and always competitive, pulled on Branson’s arm until the big man swept that boy up, too, and held him high against his chest. Branson was even amazing with her nephews and nieces.

Felice had been following him around most of the time since he’d arrived, clearly nursing a crush, and his presence had inspired too-cool-for-work-Dawton to join the men carting furniture and boxes.

“Who you think let you get up this morning? And Who’s letting you keep breathing right now?” Pops’ voice dragged her back to the preachy lecture she’d really like to avoid. “And Who brought that boy into your life, the one you can’t stop watching long enough to listen to your old Pops?”

Nevaeh rolled her eyes before she turned to face him. But the humor she’d expected to see in his dark brown eyes wasn’t there. Only the serious stare that meant she’d better listen.

“Thought that might get your attention. You hear what I been saying?”

“Yeah. I hear you, Pops.”

“Good, ’cause I got one more question for you. Who do you think helped you survive that man beatin’ you at that prison and used it to make you stronger?”

Nevaeh took deep breaths as she folded her arms in front of her, grappling for control. She wouldn’t sass her grandpa. But the denial that boiled in her chest pushed up into her throat, fighting for release. “It sure wasn’t God. He didn’t do nothin’ for me there.” She’d been completely, utterly alone against the monster. Helpless. Powerless.

“God’s God, child. He does what he wants and ain’t nobody can stop Him.”

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