year rather than add the trauma of a new school to an already traumatic year. “They’re so excited about the camping, I can hardly get an hour’s worth of work out of them.”
“Understandable.” Bree smiled once more.
“Everything okay here while we were gone?” Cassandra asked.
“Nothing of particular interest. That pipe in the hall bath is still leaking a little.”
“And no word about Jared?” Bree asked softly.
Marilyn flinched at the sound of her estranged husband’s name before smoothing her features. “Nothing either way.”
Jared’s lawyer was trying to get him out on bail, something Marilyn definitely didn’t want happening.
“Okay, good.” Bree nodded. “Keep us posted.”
“I will. Although finding out details isn’t easy. Ironically, because of privacy issues.” Marilyn sighed softly and looked over at Eva and Sam. “The kids are sad that Chandler is gone.”
Bree met Cassandra’s eyes and then looked at Marilyn, all of them giving resigned nods. Chandler’s mother, Angel, had been here three weeks. Two days ago, she’d decided to move back in with her boyfriend, despite the violent situation that had originally caused her to leave in the first place.
Angel said her boyfriend had changed. Had made promises.
Bree didn’t know which was harder: seeing the hope in the other woman’s eyes or knowing that the chances her boyfriend had changed after multiple years of abuse were pretty nonexistent.
And poor Chandler was caught in the middle of it all.
It wasn’t the first time someone from New Journeys had decided to return to a less than optimal situation. It had taken both Bree and Cassandra quite a bit of time to come to grips with the fact that not everyone could make the permanent break from their abusive situations. For some, the unknown was harder to deal with than the pain.
But it still sometimes broke Bree’s heart.
All they could do was provide what they could: a safe place and a new set of skills so that these women could support themselves, get back up on their feet and move on with their lives.
People like Marilyn were a prime example of why places like New Journeys was needed. She had made a huge difference in her own life once she had just a little help. But it was also needed for people like Angel who found the steps so much more difficult to take.
Bree and Cassandra grabbed cups of coffee, and they all came back into the family room to chat about all the daily things that needed tending to here. Half the building still hadn’t been renovated yet. New Journeys had quite a bit of private funding thanks to the Matarazzo family, who worked with some law enforcement group named Omega Sector in Colorado Springs, but renovating everything at once would have been too much to handle on multiple levels.
They currently had sixteen residents in the building, about three-quarters of its current capacity, and roughly one-third of what the building would be able to house once all the renovations were finished.
New Journeys had gone out of their way to make themselves particularly welcoming to women with children, so over half of the residents now had children with them—babies up through middle-school age.
Which explained the noise level in the room right now. None of the three women paid much attention to it. Cassandra and Marilyn were used to it since they had their own kids, and Bree just loved the chaos of it all.
But when the room fell almost completely silent a few moments later she sadly knew what had happened. A man had walked into the room. Bree forced herself not to tense or turn around to see who it was. How she reacted would influence how everyone else reacted.
Cassandra winked at her—able to see who was in the doorway—and a half smile pulled at Bree’s face as she heard giggles a few moments later. She knew exactly what man had walked into the room.
Hers.
Tanner kept his stance neutral, his posture relaxed as he made his way into the silent room. Susan, one of the residents here, knew him and had let him in the side kitchen door when he’d knocked.
Nobody got into New Journeys who wasn’t invited. Every door had double reinforced locks and a security code. Nobody could just wander in from the streets and enter the building. With all the time Bree spent here, and with as many violent offenders the residents of New Journeys had contact with, Tanner had personally made sure of it.
Tanner knew the code, of course, and had a key to let himself in if there was an emergency, but he’d never done so. The women and children who lived here needed to know they were safe from both danger and from uninvited men just wandering around, even those who didn’t mean harm.
Case in point, the silence that fell over the large living room when he entered. Every child stopped what they were doing—playing, homework, talking—and stared at him.
He wasn’t sure if his Grand County Sheriff’s Office uniform helped or hindered his attempt to set a positive example of what a man should be. Some of these women and children had received no help from law enforcement when they’d needed it most.
He stood in the doorway for a long moment, a smile on his face, arms resting loosely at his sides as everyone processed who he was and that he meant no one here any harm. It didn’t take them more than a couple of seconds to get past their instinctive fear.
He grinned as big as he could, then brought his finger up to his lips, telling all the kids to keep quiet. Using exaggerated motions, he pretended to sneak up behind Bree. The kids began to giggle, knowing both Cassandra and Marilyn could see him and weren’t concerned, so they didn’t have to be either.
“You can’t escape the kissing monster,” he said in a deep, Muppet-sounding voice. He began pecking at the top of her head, her cheeks, her shoulders, from where she sat in the chair at the table.
Bree played along, like he’d known she would. “Oh, no, not the kissing monster.”
Giggles broke out all over the room, then turned into laughing noises of disgust as Bree finally turned her head up and Tanner kissed her—very chastely—on the lips.
It was their routine. It had started out in jest, but when they’d realized how much some of these children, and their moms, needed to see men in a more easygoing, positive light, it had become a regular part of their day as Tanner picked her up to escort her home.
The noise in the room fell back to its dull roar, everyone returning to their activities now that the show was over, as Bree stood up and smiled at him.
Those green eyes still gutted him just as much now as they had the first time he saw her shoplifting in the drugstore over a year ago.
“Hi,” she whispered.
He looped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, but he didn’t kiss her the way he wanted to, mindful of the audience who might not be actively watching but were still aware of their every move. “Hi, yourself. Good day?”
He knew she’d had a wedding dress fitting today, and that that event tended to stress her out.
But he was also a man and knew better than to try to offer any advice or help. That would probably just get him killed. Not by Bree, but definitely by Cassandra or one of the other women in the throes of wedding planning bliss.
“Let’s just say I’ll be happy two weeks from now when all this is over and I never have to be the center of attention again.”
He trailed a finger down her cheek and leaned closer to make sure no one could hear them. “You may not be the center of the town’s attention, but I can promise you that once you are