Defending Zara (Mountain Mercenaries #6)(52)

She shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize. I just want you to be honest. And while I don’t care if you sleep on the floor or not, I do want you to be as comfortable as possible, and I know it can get drafty in the house sometimes. So I got you a futon. The mattress isn’t as soft as those on a normal bed. I made a custom frame for it to bring it a little higher off the ground. There’s an extra piece of wood under the mattress to make it a bit firmer as well. After you acclimate, we can remove the wood, then maybe add a foam mattress on top of the futon and under the sheet. Then, as you get used to that, we can switch out the mattress for something a little softer.

“But honestly, it doesn’t matter if you need to sleep on the futon for the rest of your life. As long as you’re comfortable and able to sleep, that’s what’s important.”

Zara inhaled sharply, doing her best to keep the tears at bay. God, she hadn’t cried when she’d been beaten up by a group of hungry men for the piece of meat she’d pilfered from a trash can. She hadn’t cried the first time she’d cut off her hair, finally realizing she’d be safer pretending to be a boy. She hadn’t even teared up when the small dog she’d befriended had disappeared, and she’d realized it had been caught and killed for food by a family of eight in the barrio where she’d been hiding.

But seeing the thought and effort Meat had gone to in order to make her more comfortable almost brought her to her knees.

“Go on. See what you think,” Meat urged, pressing gently on her lower back.

Zara slowly walked toward the futon and sat on the edge. The bed was much lower than the other one, and her feet actually touched the ground when she was sitting. It was just the right height for her. She swung her legs around and lay flat on her back.

Closing her eyes, Zara realized it was perfect. It wasn’t as hard as lying on the floor or ground had been, but she didn’t sink down into the mattress either.

She turned her head and looked at Meat. He seemed anxious and concerned as he watched her test out her new bed.

“It’s perfect,” she said quickly, wanting to put him at ease.

“You don’t have to say that to appease me,” he told her. “If it’s still too soft, I’ll think of something else.”

She sat up and shook her head. “I’m not lying. It’s great. Thank you so much. I don’t know what I—”

Meat moved faster than she knew he could, and his finger was covering her lips before she could finish her thought.

“Don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “You would’ve figured things out if I hadn’t gotten hurt and we hadn’t met. I know you would’ve. You were meant for greater things, Zara. And don’t you forget it. Our experiences make us who we are. Yeah, maybe you would’ve been a different person if things hadn’t happened the way they did, but I don’t think I would’ve liked that Zara nearly as much. Did you ever see the movie It’s a Wonderful Life, with James Stewart, before you went to Peru with your folks?”

“Is that a black-and-white movie with something about an angel and bells ringing?” Zara asked.

He nodded. “That’s the one. George Bailey is having a hard time, and he wishes he was never born. An angel grants him his wish, and then he gets a glimpse into what life would be like for those he knows and loves if he hadn’t been around. I believe down to my very bones that if you hadn’t ended up where you did, things would’ve been very different for a lot of people, most especially me. But other than myself, I know you’ve already done things that will affect someone in the future that we don’t even know about yet . . . I truly believe that.”

Zara thought about his words. She wanted to dismiss them as just Meat trying to make her feel better about what had happened to her. But she couldn’t help thinking about the woman in labor who she’d helped when Meat was at Daniela’s. She’d literally reached inside that woman and turned her baby around. Daniela’s hands weren’t small enough to do it, and the woman might’ve died otherwise.

She thought about the many kids she’d helped over the years, giving them food she’d found or stolen. And even women like Bonita, Carmen, and Maria. She’d helped them countless times too.

Maybe, just maybe, Meat wasn’t just being kind.

“You don’t have to thank me, Zara. Just as you didn’t want my gratitude, I don’t want yours either.”

“Then what do you want?” she asked, eager to hear his answer. Meat had gone out of his way to give her a place to live. To make her feel comfortable. To help her with her inheritance and improve her reading, to teach her to cook. He didn’t make any demands on her and didn’t seem concerned in the least about when she might be moving out.

“I want you to be happy,” he said quietly, staring down at her with a look she couldn’t hope to interpret. “To feel free to be who you want to be and do what you want to do. I want to give you back some of the years that were stolen from you and help you move forward.”

Her shoulders drooped. Was that all?

As if he could read her mind, Meat slowly bent low and tilted her chin up with one finger. His head dropped—and Zara’s heart went into overdrive.

She closed her eyes, praying she’d finally experience her first kiss.