And once this mess is resolved, Mikey and me will get to live our lives our way. Together.â
Anthony glanced at Mikey in the rearview mirror. The boy sat rocking slightly, forward and back, his gaze out the front window. âYouâre very good with him.â
âI donât have a choice.â A soft smile teased her pretty mouth. âI love him. Heâs my son.â
Anthony could appreciate her feelings even though he wasnât a parent and had no plans to be one any time soon. He knew his parents loved him and his siblings unconditionally. That was how it should be. Viv loved her son that way. Amazing considering her own mother sounded as far from unconditional as one could get.
âDonât you ever question why God allowed him to be born this way?â
âNot any more than I question why God allowed me to be born this way.â She made a sweeping gesture toward herself. Then narrowing her gaze, she said, âWhy would I blame God for something that could have been caused by any number of factors? All of which have more to do with the human condition than God. That would be as ludicrous as blaming God for Stevenâs murder.â
His heart rate sped up. âBut if you believe that God is all-powerful, all-knowing, couldnât He prevent these things?â
âYou sound just like Steven.â She turned away to stare out the window. âBelieve me, Steven tried to find the reason behind Mikeyâs disorder. Something, someone to blame. Itâs convenient and easy to blame God. Humans do it all the time.â
Anthonyâs throat tightened. Her words pierced his soul like arrows. He didnât want to look at why her words were creating so much havoc inside of him. He flexed his fingers and readjusted his grip on the steering wheel.
âThere just isnât any definitive explanation for Mikeyâs condition. It could have been our genetics. It could have been some environmental element I came in contact with during pregnancy, or vaccines, food allergiesâ¦the list of possible reasons is endless.â
The frustration in her voice ripped into him. Compassion welled. He didnât know what to say, how to comfort her.
âAs for Stevenâs deathâ¦good olâ mankind.â She shook her head. âSo no, I donât blame God. I cling to Him.â
I cling to Him. The words reverberated inside Anthonyâs head as the miles whizzed by.
There definitely was more to the beauty queen than met the eye. Smart, compassionate and a good parent to boot. And if her story about fighting off the fake FBI agents was true, she hid an admirable fierceness within her polished exterior.
All of which made her an intriguing woman. He was finding himself not only attracted to her, but liking her. If the situation were differentâ¦
But it wasnât. She was his protectee. Attraction, liking, none of those soft emotions had any place in the equation.
He needed to concentrate on the one question he couldnât let go of. Was she involved in her husbandâs murder?
Â
It was nearly midnight by the time Anthony pulled the minivan into the parking lot of a convenience store. Viv stirred as the engine quieted. Sheâd fallen asleep somewhere in Utah. Sheâd looked so vulnerable and sweet leaned against the door, using his suit coat as a pillow.
Viv straightened and looked around. âWhere are we?â
âOn the outskirts of Cheyenne, Wyoming. I need to grab a few things before we stop for the night.â He needed to rest, but they needed to do something about disguising Viv and Mikey.
She nodded and pulled the awful hat down lower. After her initial protest sheâd kept the thing on her head for the past ten hours to keep her identity hidden from passing motorists. She was a trouper and that went a long way in his book.
Quietly, he left the van, locking the doors with the electronic key before entering the store. Buying the
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