“I would not be so sure.”
“All of us, except Mrs. C, have been where you have been.”
“It is a sweet thought, but no, you have not.” Her eyes burned but she could not stop the words. “What I have done … I do not deserve to be here. To be a part of … this.” A family. This family of heroes and heroism.
When an arm came around her shoulders, she found blue eyes framed by short, silvery-blonde hair. “My dear, before God, all our sins are the same. And believe me, we—all of us—have sinned.”
In her many talks with Range’s mom, Kasra had asked about God. Learned a lot. “That … cannot be true. How can a liar have the same punishment as a murderer? Or one who sold their body the same as those who make others do it?”
“Because,” Mrs. Clara said, brushing Kasra’s hair back in a sweet, loving way, “sin is sin is sin.” She turned to face her and smiled. “When you hang a blanket over a door, it does not matter if it is a wool blanket or a cotton one. They both are a barrier that blocks fresh air and sunshine. The person in the house who hung the blanket may have less light or air with a wool blanket, but the sun’s power is not altered by the material. Like the blanket, sin—no matter the type—blocksusfrom God, and He hates that because it keeps us from Him.”
Absorbing that truth, Kasra tried to accept it. “I would very much like to believe that …”
“Then believe it, Dear Daughter,” Mrs. Clara said. “And let go of the self-condemnation. It is harder for us to forgive ourselves than it is for God to forgive. More than anything, He wants to know and love you, and vice versa. Let Him. Just as you’re letting Range know and love you.”
Heart in her throat, she gazed up at his mother.
It had been a month since she and Range arrived. Five weeks since they had been married by the imam. Five weeks since he refused to accept the marriage as legitimate. Five weeks in which she had fallen more in love with him. Five weeks in which she ached for their marriage to be real, to find healing in his arms and with his name, his family. For Atia who had begun to bond with—
“Range!” Atia leapt up from the so-called sleep and bolted to the door, the large Malinois trotting behind her.
“I guess the men are back.” Mrs. Clara gave her a hug. “Let’s see what they found out.”
Found out—the marriage.
Suddenly feeling sick, Kasra stayed at the island. Watched as Stone and Canyon entered, hugging their wives. Then Range … he immediately lifted Atia into his arms, and she wrapped around him like a monkey. His gaze searched and found Kasra’s.
And her breath caught at the concern in his eyes.
Oh no … it was not real. He would ask her to leave. Send her back.
Range passed Atia to his mother, who took her to the fireplace where Grief was once more snuggled up on his bed.
Kasra focused on the apples. A dozen apples she had not managed to peel in twenty minutes!
He stepped into her personal space, one hand finding the small of her back. The other sliding a folder onto the island.
“It … it is okay,” Kasra lied. “Please … Just … please do not send me back.”
Range edged in closer, his breath skidding along her cheek. “We need to talk.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
Bexar-Wolfe Lodge, Virginia
“What do you mean,if I want to explore my options?”
Range lowered his head as they sat in Mom’s apartment, which she had loaned out to Kasra and Atia until they figured out what was going to happen. He had taken a room down the hall. “I just …”
“What did the lawyer say?” she demanded. “Are we legally married?”
Letting out a deep breath, he nodded. “We are. What happened in Wesh is legal. But it can be annulled, if that’s what you—we want.” He met her gaze. “You are free now, Kasra. Free to do what you want. Date whom you want—”
“Date?” She drew up and shook her head. “I came here because of you!”
“I don’t want you to feel trapped or—”
“I do not! Iloveyou.”
