Faith gave him a questioning look. “What do you mean?”
“They’re the reason I left New Orleans. The man’s friends wanted revenge.”
“Because you accused him of cheating?” Faith asked. He could see she was puzzling through his words, trying to find a way to make them make sense.
They were true, to an extent. Just not the entire truth. “I fear that’s who forced their way into my mother’s home.”
“What would they have been looking for? Money?”
He nodded, torn between hating himself for not telling her everything and thankful that she wouldn’t look upon him as a murderer.
“But they found nothing . . .” She seemed to be saying this more to herself than to him.
“I worry they’ll return.”
Faith looked up at him. “I had an idea while I was out.”
“Oh?”
“Why don’t you ask your mother if she’d like to stay here for a while? She’d be safe here, and it would be nice to have her visit.”
It was the perfect solution. Beau grinned. “I’d been berating myself for not taking her with me when I left. Although I doubt she would have come anyhow. But now . . .” Now that he was settled and married, she might take him up on the offer. She’d be here, far away from those that might want to use her to get to him back in New Orleans. He’d ask his friend to ensure she left quietly, without drawing notice from anyone who might wish to follow.
“Now is the perfect time for a visit,” Faith finished for him.
“It’s a wonderful idea. Thank you.” He placed a hand on each of her cheeks and kissed her forehead. Her face went scarlet beneath his fingers, and more than anything, he wanted to kiss her properly again. He’d thought about it constantly since that evening by the fire when he’d finally given in to the urge. She looked up at him with nothing but trust and . . . something he hoped might be love.
He may have left New Orleans for the darkest of reasons, but he’d found light here in Last Chance. Somehow, despite all he’d done wrong, God saw fit to give him Faith.
And she was something Beau would never take for granted.
