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Beside us, Miguel finally slipped his pistol back under his shirt.
Before José could respond, a woman appeared behind him.
She took one look at the two of us.
“Madre de Dios.”
“Rosa—” José began.
“Whatever happened can be explained inside.” She stepped out onto the porch, waving us in. “They’re injured, and they look like they’ve gone through hell and back.”
I glanced at Lachlan. He gave me a small nod, and we started toward the porch.
“Come in,” she said, already turning toward the door. “You can talk after you eat.”
Rosa didn’t know who we were or what trouble might have followed us to her door, yet her first instinct was to feed us.
The simple kindness of it left me momentarily speechless.
“Thank you,” I managed. “Really. Thank you.”
Rosa waved away my gratitude. “The church teaches us to help those in need.”
Lachlan’s hand settled briefly at the small of my back, and together we climbed the steps and went inside.
Chapter twenty-seven
By the time José led us back outside, Rosa had managed to feed us enough food to make up for most of what we’d missed over the last two days.
Isabella hugged her on the front porch. “Thank you. Dinner was wonderful.”
Rosa smiled as though thanks were unnecessary. “Go. You both need sleep. May peace be with you.”
Sleep sounded damn good.
The chapel sat directly across the road from their house, small and white beneath the dark sky. José unlocked the front door and led us inside.
Other than Lucian’s wedding, I hadn’t been inside a church in years, but some habits survived time, crime, and a spectacular number of sins. I genuflected toward the altar and crossed myself.
José glanced over at me. “Catholic?”
“Born and raised Irish Catholic. Mam would say she’d failed as a mother if she ever heard I’d walked into a church without showing respect.”
Isabella laughed softly beside me.
José smiled. “And you?”
“Mamá took me to Mass when I was little.” Isabella looked toward the altar. “After she died, I was never allowed to go again.”
Something in José’s expression softened.
“Then you are welcome here now.”
He led us through a side door into a community room filled with folding tables, stacked chairs, and boxes of donated clothing.
“Take whatever you need. There should be something close enough to fit.”
Close enough might be optimistic in my case, but I wasn’t criticizing free clothes.