Page 5 of Patch's Bride
She turns the phone off and then removes the battery. “Do you have a laptop or anything else electronic he might be able to use to track you with?”
“No, I just grabbed some clothes and left.” I rake my hands through my hair, annoyed with myself for not thinkingthis through more thoroughly. “I hope I didn’t make a mistake coming here. I feel like I’m making my problems your problems.”
“Nonsense, sweetheart. We just have to make sure your stepfather can’t find you until we can process this situation properly and decide what to do. Should I call the police?”
I shake my head, “I just overheard a conversation. There’s nothing to prove anything, they wouldn’t believe me.”
Worry eats away at me as she goes back to making tea. I turn the situation over in my mind, realizing how outlandish it all sounds. Before I can get my head around it, she presses a mug of hot tea into my hand.
“Here, drink this. It’ll make you feel better.”
I take a quick sip and start talking again. “He wants to traffic me to settle a debt,” I tell her with tears spilling down my face. “Do you realize how weird that sounds? If it weren’t happening to me, I wouldn’t believe it myself. It sounds like crazy talk. Everyone thinks he’s a righteous man. He’ll spin this as just me getting lost in my grief or something.”
She reaches out, takes my free hand and begins untangling the rosary. When she’s finished, she drapes it around my neck and looks me in the eyes. “I believe you because I’ve always thought he was no good. Don’t think for a minute that we’re going to let him get away with something so wicked.”
“Thank you,” I choke out, fighting back more tears. “You’re right about him being no good. No one will ever know what my mother and I went through since she married him.”
She takes a sip of her own tea and then speaks again. “I always suspected your stepfather wasn’t right in the head andthis proves it. Your mama was a good woman. She never said one bad word about him. But she made me promise that if anything happened to her, I’d look after you. This is me keeping that promise.”
Still panicking inside, I tell her, “I’m afraid my stepdad is gonna just pick me up one day and I won’t be able to stop him.”
“We won’t let that happen. Do you know who your stepfather was talking to?”
I shake my head. “He didn’t say, and I never heard their voice. I could barely hear my stepdad’s side of the conversation. To be honest, I can’t imagine it’s anyone decent. They were talking about human trafficking like it was just another business transaction.”
“We’ll figure something out,” she assures me.
I wish I had her confidence.
“I know someone who can help. My son.”
An image of him rises in my mind, making me blush. He’s a lot older than me. I’ve always thought he was smart, strong, and extremely attractive. “You mean Solomon?”
Her mouth curves into a proud mama smile. “Yes, he’s the only son I have. Everyone calls him Patch now.”
I can’t help but smile. “It’s because he’s a doctor and patches people up for a living. And because his last name is Patchett. That’s such a cute nickname for him.”
Her expression takes on a cunning edge, and I’m not sure quite what to make of that. She’s a clever woman. So, I hope she’s scheming in my favor. “You were always nice to my son. Maybe it’s time for him to return the favor.”
“What? Solomon doesn’t deserve to be dragged into my mess. There has got to be another way. Maybe I can move off to the city or someplace where my stepfather can’t find me.”
“Going into hiding for the rest of your life isn’t a good plan, Beth. You deserve a nice life and that can’t happen if you’re always looking over your shoulder and worried about being trafficked by the very man who should be looking out for you now that your mother is gone.”
I sigh and take another drink of my tea, because she’s not wrong. “I’m sure that I’ll figure something out.”
Caroline insists, “What you need is a protector. And my son is too wrapped up in his work to enjoy life. He’s responsible, caring, and compassionate, but he needs something or someone to distract him from being a workaholic. If you ask me, this could be the win-win situation you both need. Whether you see it or not, I think the Lord’s brought you to my door for a reason.”
The words roll around in my head as I try to make sense of what she’s saying. I’m desperate and don’t want to dismiss her idea out of hand but I can’t keep from shaking my head. “Solomon’s a busy man. He’s a doctor. I can’t ask him to babysit me.”
“You’re not asking. I am.” She pats my hand. “He’s a grown man who can make decisions for himself. Tonight, you can sleep in his old room. Tomorrow, we’ll tell him about your situation and see what he has to say. For now, you’re safe. That’s what matters most.”
“Thank you,” I choke out, fighting back more tears.
She leads me upstairs to Solomon’s old room. It’s got posters on the door identifying all the layers of the human body from the inside out. The bed has a black comforter, sheet set, and plump pillows just waiting to be slept on. All in all, it’s a very masculine room.
I glance over my shoulder at Caroline and ask hesitantly, “Are you sure he won’t mind me sleeping in his room? I don’t mind sleeping on the sofa.”
“Absolutely not. I won’t hear of it. Unfortunately, we’ve been storing supplies for the annual homeless backpack charity in my guest room. So, Patch’s room will have to do. My son would be offended if I put you on the sofa when his room was standing empty.”
