Free Sheltering Hearts by Robyn Carr Page B

beat me badly enough for a 9-1-1 call. He was scared of what would happen to him, so he took the kids and ran—but he didn’t get far.”
    He wore a pained expression and shook his head, looking down. “What in God’s name makes a man like that?”
    “Many things. Many different combinations of things. In his case, a father who beat his mother and him. He used drugs from time to time, and probably had a personality disorder, as well…. I was lucky to get a good lawyer and an angry judge. My ex doesn’t even have visitation and will have to go back to court if he wants to even see the kids.”
    In the darkness of her front porch, she could tell he tried to control his breathing to keep it calm. Clay was a protector of women and children. Her story would be hard for him to hear. “And you do this volunteer work because of what happened to you?”
    “No,” she said. “I do it because I was helped. I went to a support group when I moved here because I needed ongoing support after leaving Oklahoma, where I was helped so much by the Zoë Institute. I met Corsica Rios, the social worker who had been a working single mom. We had coffee together, talked about things, and got to know each other. She told me about setting up this local support group and she said, ‘They need everything! It’s not enough to feed them and cover their heads and find them work—they have to be reeducated in their own worth. It’s the only way they can go forward and create a positive environment for our next generation.’ And I said, let me tell you how I was helped. That was our beginning. We had a good model for a nonprofit organization dedicated to assisting these single mothers. And it’s working. We helped a lot of women that very first year, and more every year since. We have a shelter, and it’s always full. There’s a waiting list for women who need a place to go where they’ll be safe from an abuser. We can do better than that!” She smiled at him. “But we have a full-time director now,” she said proudly. “And sixty-two volunteers!”
    “Sixty-three,” Clay said.
    She was so surprised, she couldn’t speak for a moment. “Oh, Clay.”
    “I don’t suppose I could get a job as a bodyguard at that shelter…?”
    “I don’t suppose,” she said with a laugh. “Feel like busting some chops, do you? Believe it or not, as much as that probably comes from the heart, that’s not your best recommendation. We advocate nonviolence. Of course.”
    “I just get hot under the collar at the thought of that whole scenario. But there are lots of other things you can use help with. Nobody loves a cause like a bunch of firefighters,” he said. “Yours wouldn’t be the first or only nonprofit group we support, either. There are a million things we can do, from food drives to fundraisers. We’re really good at baseball tournaments that pit the firehouses against each other.”
    “What fun!”
    “We give kids tours of the firehouses all the time—kids without dads would be even more important. I bet I can get our female crew members to go along with that idea. And how about pancake breakfasts and barbecues?”
    “You’re after my job,” she said with a laugh.
    “I’m just saying I wouldn’t mind helping with a good cause. It’s like Stan said—all of us are impacted by the need. It’s in our families, our neighborhoods, churches, schools. Sometimes it’s right next door. Dory,” he said softly, seriously, “I’m real sorry that happened to you. And I’m real glad you’re a survivor.”
    “Clay, I just want you to know that the reason I’ve never accepted a date with you doesn’t have anything to do with you. You seem to be a great guy, and you’re terrific with the kids. Because of what I’ve gone through the last several years, I don’t entirely trust myinstincts about me. I should never have ended up in that terrible relationship—I wasn’t raised that way. My aunt and uncle were good, solid, loving