Willa’s sharpness softened under Safine’s careful hands and the dirt washed away to reveal tanned freckles and a twisted smile.
The preacher watched them like he was a starving man in the wilderness, longing and desperate. “You have a lovely wife, Decker. Any man would be lucky.”
“I am,” he agreed. The water turned pink and he rubbed his thumb along his knuckles under the surface. “Safine is very special to me,” Decker murmured. He should have stopped there. Maybeit was the thick, coppery smell dulling his senses, making him foolish, or maybe Mr. Lane’s peace was muddling his head with a false sense of safety.
“Safine is my wife in name only.”
The preacher’s gaze snapped to him. “I don’t understand.”
Decker smiled faintly. “We both stood to gain benefits. It seemed like the logical thing to do, and we enjoy the companionship.”
“I see,” he said softly, water rippling as he joined Decker on the opposite side of the bowl.
“You hold company with some unique people, Decker Belmont.”
“So did Jesus.”
He smiled. “Everyone seems bent on teaching me my own scripture.”
“Helps to have a reminder, Mr. Lane,” he said.
“When will you call me Laurie?”
Decker’s hands stilled under the water as the preacher’s gentle, chapel-scarred hands brushed against his own. “When I know you.”
