Free Her Christmas Protector by Terri Reed Page B

have impressions of exotic places that surface occasionally. About the time I turned eight, my grandparents demanded my parents bring me home for some schooling. My parents, bless their souls, believed I would get a better education staying with them, but since my grandparents funded most of their trips, they had to do as they were told. So I was sent off to private school.”
    “That must have been hard on you.”
    “I suppose. But Mother and Father came home often to visit. They would bring all sorts of odd souvenirs from the places they went. As I grew older, I went through a period of resenting them, but I grew out of that. I’m just glad they were able to live their lives the way they wanted.”
    The sadness in her voice made Luke’s hand tighten around his cup. “It wasn’t fair of your family to separate you from your parents.”
    Faith glanced at him then quickly looked away. “I suppose not.”
    “You said your parents died?”
    She nodded. “A car accident. On my eleventh birthday, of all time. They—” Faith looked up at him with sad eyes. “They were on their way home to see me.”
    Setting his mug down, he reached over and covered her white knuckles with his hands. “I’m so sorry.”
    “It was a long time ago.” She stared down at their clasped hands. In a low whisper Luke heard her say, “I never got to say goodbye.”
    Understanding her pain, Luke’s heart ached for her. “When I heard my father was dying, I was afraid I wouldn’t arrive home in time.”
    She lifted her head. “But you did.”
    “Yes, but there still wasn’t enough time to tell him everything I wanted to say.”
    She nodded. “That’s how I felt when my grandfather died.” Tears rapidly filled her eyes. “I knew his death was coming but—I just wasn’t ready.” A tear spilled from her lashes and rolled down her cheek. “He’d had a heart attack five years earlier, after my grandmother passed on, that caused so much damage. He wouldn’t have surgery and slowly he got worse until finally his heart stopped.”
    Luke stifled the urge to take her into his arms. He knew once he did he might never let go. “You were with him.”
    A small, sad smile touched her lips. “Yes. I was the only one he couldn’t scare off. Grandfather was a prickly man on the outside but—I loved him a great deal.”
    “Tell me about him.”
    Faith moved restlessly, tucking and untucking her legs beneath her.
    “Grandfather was—traditional.”
    “Like in women are women and men are men?”
    “Exactly.”
    They shared a smile. “Did your grandfather believe in God?”
    Her mouth twisted. “Oh, yes. He was definitely a God-fearing Christian.”
    “And he taught you to fear God,” Luke stated gently.
    “Yes, he did. He made sure that terror of God was deeply instilled.” She quickly added, “But I knew Grandfather loved me. He just had a hard time showing his affection.”
    Luke ached for the little girl she’d been. Growing up without her parents, having her controlling grandfather warp her view of God. Faith deserved to be cherished and loved. “Fear of the Lord isn’t about terror. It’s about awe and respect. How can we love and obey a God we’re terrified of?”
    Her eyebrows drew together in puzzlement. “But isn’t that why people obey God? Because they are afraid He’ll strike them down if they don’t?”
    “God strikes down those who oppose Him, but not before giving them a chance to come to Him. And He always gives second chances. He gives humans free will to choose. Follow Him and receive all the blessings He freely gives or turn away from Him to live without the blessings.”
    She seemed to absorb his words, he wasn’t sure she believed him. “Thank you.”
    He frowned. “For what?”
    “For understanding. For giving me a job and a place to stay.”
    Her hazel eyes were direct, without guile. He liked that about her. “You’re welcome.”
    For a moment silence stretched between them as their gazes