Chapter 6

Peach had no clue what was going on with Haisley. Why had the preacher’s wife attacked? He’d met enough people in his life to know that just because someone claimed to be holy or godly didn’t mean they were.

Getting to the bottom of the problem would take time. Haisley didn't seem like she wanted to discuss it with him. He was a stranger, and he was sure she didn't trust him. Why would she? He'd been shocked when he'd first arrived home and found her in the house. Exhaustion and hunger, along with grief and guilt, had been a terrible mix.

Tonight, he would cook for Haisley and make sure she felt at ease with him. He couldn't get her to relax with wine because he was smart enough to know pregnant women weren't supposed to drink. Maybe he could rub her shoulders, or perhaps that was too intimate.

Earlier when she’d looked him in the eyes, he’d felt something. It would be wrong to act on his lust. This wasn’t the time or the place to find out if Haisley was into him.

Once home, he put up the groceries before he showered and changed clothes. The sugary cola might already be set in on his shirt, but he decided to wash a load because he didn't want his shirt to be too gross from sitting around with the sticky substance on it.

"Hey," Peach said as he stepped out of his parents' room. "I need to wash this shirt and my pants. Do you have anything to toss into the laundry?"

“I can wash clothes.”

He nodded. “I’m sure you can. How about we work together? I can stain treat this, and you can toss your dirty clothes into the washer."

Haisley shook her head. “I’m surprised you know how to wash clothes.”

“Who do you think has been taking care of my stuff? I left Georgia when I was eighteen and I’ve been on my own ever since then.”

She shrugged. “I’ve never known a guy who?—“

“I get it. You’ve only known men who either were incompetent or manipulative.”

“Hey, your dad didn’t do his clothes.”

Peach nodded. "Yeah, once I moved out and started taking care of my own stuff, I didn't understand him not doing his own laundry or at least helping with laundry. I take pride in keeping my place clean and my clothes washed and in the proper place. I never talked to him about it.”

“Not very many guys are like that.”

Peach opened the door to the laundry room and glanced around. "This house needs some work. I don't have time to do it. I hope the realtor is okay selling it as is."

Haisley nodded but didn't say anything. She was losing her home. He didn't want to kick a pregnant woman out, but he couldn't deal with taking care of this house and living in San Diego. Maybe she had somewhere she could go. Surely, she had family.

After Haisley finished loading her dark clothes, he grabbed the soap and put some in the dispenser. He shut the lid and Haisley spun the knob to turn the washer on. They stood in silence for a moment as the machine started to whine and spin.

“Are you hungry?” Peach asked.

She shook her head. “Not yet. I was going to clean the bathroom.”

“Do you think we could sit and talk?”

He wanted to know more about Haisley and what was going on with her. It was odd that the pastor's wife had yelled at them in the grocery store. Maybe he should drop in and talk to the sheriff. He didn't know the man and didn't really want to get involved, but he was already involved since some woman had thrown a cup of soda on him.

How had small town life gotten so crazy? He only had a few days here. Before he arrived, he'd thought he would be taking jogs down memory lane. Instead, he was fighting against an enemy he didn’t understand for a woman he didn’t know.