Lycan Redemption Read Free Page A

life. She couldn’t begin to imagine the pain Patrick felt, a child who couldn’t comprehend the full meaning of death.
    He simply couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that his father was never coming back. How did one explain death to a five-year-old? She’d had no idea, and that was where their guardian angel, Betty, had entered. While Myka wasn’t an atheist, she didn’t belong to a specific religion either. She believed that there was a higher power out there somewhere, someone who had created the earth and everything on it—the universe, for that matter—but she wasn’t sure exactly who or what that someone was. However, when she and Betty together decided that Patrick might deal better with his father’s passing if he thought of Travis as an angel, Myka had had no problem with it if it provided any measure of comfort for him.
    Besides, why couldn’t angels exist? Weren’t angels, after all, beings of protection, light, and kindness? An angel didn’t necessarily have to have a halo and wings, as was the wide-believed notion. An angel, in her opinion, was someone who came into one’s life when all hope seemed lost. Someone who lent a guiding hand and a kind heart. Someone who could help one find the right path in life. Travis would do all of that and more for Patrick if he were still alive. If there was an afterlife, she had no doubt he’d do that for Patrick from there as well.
    “We have a new farmhand, Patrick. His name is Galen, but you should call him Mr.—” That’s when she realized he hadn’t told her his last name.
    “The last name is Soloman, but I’d prefer to be called Galen if that would be okay with you, Myka.”
    She spun around to find Galen standing in the doorway.
    “I didn’t mean to startle you. I knocked, but you were obviously preoccupied.”
    “It’s okay.”
    “Patrick, this is Galen Soloman. If he doesn’t mind you calling him Galen, I’m okay with that.”
    She quietly watched as Patrick sized Galen up. After a few moments of apparent indecision, he slowly walked to him, cocked his head to the side, and offered his hand. The resemblance to Travis was uncanny, but she saw traits coming out that were uniquely Patrick as well.
    Galen squatted, then firmly but gently clasped Patrick’s hand. Myka swallowed around a lump in her throat. There was something about watching a big man like Galen interact with a little boy like Patrick that melted her heart. Galen stood and followed Patrick over to the table. Suddenly, the moderately sized kitchen felt cramped.
    “Have a seat. I’m finishing up dinner.”
    “Anything I can help with?” Galen asked.
    Patrick sat across the table from Galen, intently watching every move he made, but Galen didn’t seem to mind.
    “Patrick, why don’t you ask Galen to help you set the table?”
    “Wanna help?” Patrick asked.
    “Sure.” Galen nodded.
    She put the pot roast and veggies on a platter while Galen and Patrick got plates, silverware, and glasses placed for each of them. After putting the food on the table, and filling the glasses with iced tea—milk for Patrick—they all sat down. She glanced at Galen. It would take her a while to get used to his size. He had to be a good six and a half feet tall. His biceps were well-defined, along with the muscles in his forearms, and his fingers were long and straight and looked made for hard labor. He was quite an amazing-looking man, but she felt like a midget next to him. Barely topping out at five feet, she’d grown accustomed to feeling small around most others, but Galen was a whole other story.
    “Dang it!” She snapped her fingers.
    “What’s wrong?” Patrick asked.
    “Forgot the biscuits.”
    “Looks like a wonderful dinner, Myka. I’m okay with no biscuits,” Galen said.
    “Me too!” Patrick readily agreed.
    She couldn’t help but smile.
    “Okay. No biscuits. Eat up.”
    She was about to ask Patrick if he needed help getting his food, when he held his plate up,