“So you attend regularly then?”
“Yes,” she said, deciding this was a safe topic. “I attend and I volunteer two afternoons a week as a mentor for the youth group. Those teenagers need some positive guidance.”
He helped her make her way across the den toward the fireplace. “What do you do to help them?”
“I mostly listen,” Alisha said, her body protesting the short walk, her legs wobbly and weak. “You know, teenagers are the same anywhere. The big city, a small mountain town. It doesn’t matter where they live or how much money or social standing they have, they all have the same problems.”
“Such as Rayanne’s being pregnant?”
She nodded, one hand on the pain in her back as she eased down into a chair by the fire. “Yes. Poor girl. Sixteen and having a baby. And the father refuses to marry her. I could just shake that Jimmy Barrett. He sure led her right down the garden path.”
“I take it you don’t approve of the boy.”
She glanced over at Jared, not sure what to expect since she didn’t know where he stood in the faith and good works department, but all she saw in his dark eyes was polite curiosity. “No, I don’t approve of him. He’s twenty-three years old and a charmer. He makes pretty good money doing yard work and working on cars, but he’s lazy and only wants to have a good time, spends his spare time on the computer, e-mailing his friends, and he spends most of his money on music, beer and video games. He hasn’t offered either marriage or money to Rayanne.”
“So you counsel her?”
“I try. She doesn’t want to give the baby up for adoption, but her parents are having a hard time as it is. Her father, Tate, worked at the local outlet store and manufacturing company at the base of the mountain, but then it shut down and put a lot of people out of work, including him. Now they just clean and maintain the few cabins we have left to rent to tourists and take on odd jobs here and there to make extra money.”
She could almost see his mind churning with more questions. “What type of manufacturing?”
“Carpets and drapery. It was a spin-off plant from the Dalton carpet factories, and an outlet store for carpet and drapery samples on the side, but the owner didn’t have very good business sense. He was the last descendant of the original settlers on the mountain, the last of the Dovers. He lived in a fancy house in Dalton, and only came here to check on things when it was absolutely necessary, but he just couldn’t get it together and he ran up a lot of debts trying to keep the factory running. Then things got pretty bad with the economy and they had to shut it down.
“He went bankrupt and now Dover Mountain doesn’t have any sort of employment opportunities. People have been forced to move closer to Dalton and Rome, some as far away as Atlanta, and some with no place to go, living off welfare. It’s really bad.”
“And yet, you came back here.”
Alisha stared down at the fire. She had her reasons for coming back here, but she wasn’t ready to explain them to him. Hoping to change the subject, she asked, “Why did you come here, Jared?”
His face went blank, his eyes downcast and evasive. He sat silent, his hands clasped for a full minute before he said, “I honestly don’t know.”
“Or you just don’t want to talk about it,” she replied.
“Maybe not.” He got up to stir the fire, his broad back effectively shutting her out.
Alisha watched him, acutely aware of how his masculine presence filled the tiny cabin. He was a stranger who’d shown up in a raging rainstorm. A stranger who now held a strong bond with her newborn son. And her.
A stranger who didn’t want to explain why he’d come here. He didn’t want to be a protector.
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