Page 41 of Mountain Protector

“Yes. Even though my dad was really busy with his company, he always made time for me. And for celebrating all the holidays.”

A shadow moves across his gaze. Several moments later, he says, “I’m really glad you had that. Such a close bond with your dad. I’m sorry you couldn’t spend Thanksgiving with him this year.”

“It’s okay. He understood that it was safer that way.And he went over to a friend’s—well, a long-time employee’s—house and they watched football all day. So it wasn’t too bad.”

Knox glances back at the tree, already twinkling with hundreds of lights and more than half decorated. As he stares at it, he says, “I didn’t celebrate holidays as a kid. My parents… well. They weren’t around enough for that.”

My heart twists at the sadness in his voice. Leaning my head on his shoulder, I ask, “Do you want to talk about it?”

He hesitates. Lets out a slow sigh. Then he rests his cheek on my head, his warm breath feathering across my hair. “It wasn’t horrible. I wasn’t beaten or anything. But my father… he was a gambler. He picked up enough temporary work—day labor, landscaping crews—to cover his bets for the week. And he was gone every weekend gambling at some casino, coming back home late Sunday night with nothing.”

Not wanting to interrupt, I nod for him to continue.

“My mother tried when I was little. I have vague memories of cookies and a fake tree in the living room. But by the time I was in elementary school, she gave up. I think my father wore her down. Always taking money from her, forcing her to work double shifts to cover the bills… So when I was eight, she kicked him out.”

Pausing, he says, “He never came back. But honestly, I thought things would be better without him. But… it wasn’t.”

Dread fills my stomach. “What happened?”

“Nothing like what you’re thinking. I wasn’t abused. She just… checked out. Started dating a series of asshole men who weren’t interested in being a father. More often than not, she’d spent the night at their place because our apartment was so terrible.” Bitterness tinges his tone. “She didn’t care about leaving me there. Just as long as she had a nicer place to sleep.”

“Oh, Knox.”

“I tried to spend as much time as I could with my friends. But I didn’t want them to know how bad it was. I was afraid of getting my mother in trouble. Isn’t that crazy? She didn’t care about me, but I still worried about her.”

“It’s not crazy.”

“When I was fourteen, I met Tom. I was looking for part-time work, raking lawns, cleaning gutters, that sort of thing. So I put up a sign at the library, offering my services. He was the only person who responded.”

Voice softening with affection, Knox adds, “Tom was great. He realized I was going through some shit, and he helped me out. Always had extra for dinner on the days I came to work for him. He hooked me up with a new bike when the one I used to get to his house broke. He paid me way more than the going rate because he knew I was struggling.”

“He sounds like an amazing person.”

I can feel Knox smile. “He is.” A beat, and then, “I told you I grew up in Morristown, right?”

“Yes.”

“The house I live in? It was Tom’s. He wanted to move to Florida, and I was separating from the Army around the same time. So he offered to sell it to me for a bargain. He said he knew I used to love the house and thought I might want to fix it up. Come home again.”

Knox turns to face me, his handsome features solemn as he says, “I wasn’t sure if I made the right choice at first. Coming back to a town with such bad memories. And everything was so different from what I was used to—the Army, my GB teammates, the missions—I didn’t know if I could be happy here.”

My breath catches at the look in his eyes.

“And are you happy?”

He stares at me for a second, emotion working in his gaze. “It’s funny. I thought I was. With the company, and the Guardians, and the friends I’ve made here… I thought it was enough.”

Almost whispering, I ask, “And now?”

“Now.” Knox takes my hands. “Now that I’ve met you, I understand what real happiness is.”

Oh.

Tears burn behind my eyes.

Hope takes wing in my chest.

“I make you happy?”

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