Page 57 of Preacher

But something wasn’t right.

Something was coming. I could feel it in my bones.

15

PREACHER

“Wow.” Tabitha’s eyes slowly skirted over the living room and kitchen, and she sounded anything but impressed as she muttered, “It’s really nice.”

My place wasn’t extravagant like her apartment or mansion of a home she owned with her boys, but it was my home, and I was proud of it. The boys and I tore it down to the studs and built it back up again. It was on the roster for historic homes, so I kept the old bones—exposed brick, wide plank floors, and tall ceilings with the original beams.

The house had a story to tell, and I wasn’t going to take that away from it. I liked that it had history, but that didn’t mean Tabitha had to love it or even like it. It was just a house, after all.

I motioned my hand toward the two wine bottles on the counter and asked, “Red or white?”

She didn’t answer right away.

She just stood there with a lost look in her eyes. I was about to ask again when she finally answered, “Either is fine.”

Something seemed off, but I had no idea what was going on. She looked good—damn good. She was wearing a short, green dress that hugged her curves like it was made for her, and her hair was down around her shoulders. But it felt like she was a hundred miles away.

“You alright?” I asked, stepping a little closer. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Yes, I’m okay.” She blinked and gave a small smile. “I’m sorry if I seem quiet. I just had one of those days, but your home is beautiful. You kept so much of the original character, and the kitchen looks like it should be in a magazine.”

“I don’t know about that, but I appreciate you saying so.”

I poured her a glass of wine, and she came over and sat down at the counter. I’d gone simple tonight—pasta with my special sauce and garlic bread. Not exactly fancy, but it smelled good, and I was hoping it’d ease whatever nerves she had. I gave the pasta another stir as I told her, “Hope you’re hungry. There’s enough here for an army.”

She nodded and gave me another half-smile, but it didn’t make it to her eyes. She crossed her arms loosely over her stomach and stared down at the floor. That was it. I set the spoon down and took a breath.

“Tabitha,” I said gently. “Something’s going on with you. Are you gonna tell me what it is, or do I have to start guessing?”

She hesitated, eyes falling to the floor, then back up to mine.

And just like that, the armor cracked.

“It’s Faith,” she said softly. “Doc came by to do his weekly checks, and he’s concerned about her. She’s not due for a few weeks, but something’s not right. Said there might be an issue in utero, and I just… I can’t shake this feeling.”

There it was.

The weight she’d been carrying since I’d first picked her up.

I didn’t say anything. I just turned off the stove and reached into the cabinet for some plastic food containers. When I started filling them with the food I’d made, Tabitha asked, “What are you doing?”

“Taking you home,” I said simply, sliding the bread into a paper bag. “You need to be with her.”

“But what about dinner?”

“We can eat it just as easy in your kitchen as mine.”

“Hudson. You don’t have to do that.”

“But I do,” I said, giving her a look. “You love that horse. You got every right to be with her if something feels off.”

She didn’t respond. She just sat there, looking at me with doe eyes, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say she was doing her damnedest not to cry. I didn’t say anything. I simply boxed everything up and put it into a cooler, and once I had everything together, I turned to her and said, “I’m ready when you are.”

“You’re something else, you know that?”

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