Chapter 20
Ifor rolled over onto his other side for what must’ve been the fiftieth time that night. Usually, as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out like a log.
But this night was different.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Susan, about the bruise, about all the tell-tale signs in her words and manner that had led him to believe she was in some kind of danger.
Why had his question about her plans for the evening affected her so much? He’d never seen anyone look so horrified.
He rolled over again, pounding his pillow. He sighed as he closed his eyes and prayed for Susan’s safety.
Susan huddled under the bedcovers, tears streaming across her face and onto her pillow. She still couldn’t get the image of John Murphy’s unblinking eyes out of her head.
When she’d regained consciousness earlier, she’d pushed through the pain and turned to see her father sobbing in the corner of the kitchen.
“Da?” she’d said, her voice weak.
“Oh, Susan... I didn’t mean it, pet... I didn’t mean it...” He’d wiped his face with his hand, smudging something dark onto his cheek.
“Where is he, Da?” A second strike couldn’t be far behind, but part of her had hoped she’d have enough time to stop feeling so dizzy before he continued his forceful attempts to get the key from her.
“He’s gone, wee Susan, love. He’s gone.”
Relief had washed over her. Even if he was at the post office, turning it over, at least he wasn’t in her little house,lurking just around the corner.
She’d blinked some more of the dizziness away, then looked at her father, able to see him a little more clearly.
Somehow everything had seemed to stop. “Da? What’s that on your cheek?”
Her father was a pitiful sight. He looked at her.And as soon as his eyes met hers, her stomach flipped. Something was wrong.
“Da?”
“I didn’t mean it, wee Susan. I was only trying to get him to stop. After he knocked you out, he was crushing you, all slumped over on top of you, stranglin’ you again. But you were already out cold. And I yelled at him, but he wouldn’t listen...” He sniffed. “I didn’t mean it to turn out like this. I only thought that if he saw I meant business he’d leave you alone.”
Susan had swallowed hard, her throat burning. Slowly, she’d turned her head to where John had slammed her against the cupboards.
“Oh, Da!”
John Murphy lay on the floor, a pool of blood around him. His cold eyes stared up at the ceiling, glazed and unseeing.
“Da! Da, you killed him!”
The shock and hysterics had caused her to pass out all over again, and the next time she’d come round, her father had been busy trying to clean up the blood.
“Sure, go on to bed. I’ll sort all this out. Go on, now.”
She’d lingered in the doorway. The same one that John Murphy would never stand in again. But the exhaustion from all the drama had soon forced her to retreat to her room. She’d slumped down on her bed, her head still throbbing, her throat dry, and her mind a conflicting tangle of emotions.
He hadn’t meant to do it, he’d said. For the first time in his life, her father had actually been trying to protect her.
But now, tomorrow, all their lives would change. Once they told the sheriff, her father would be sent to prison—if not hanged.
What would all the church folk think of her then?
Ifor groaned, shoved his blanket aside and clambered out of bed.He strode to his window and tugged the curtains aside. It was a calm, still night. A full moon dazzled brightly in the clear sky, suspended above the solid, snow-covered mountains.
The whole town was peaceful and at rest. Except for him.
Each time he’d almost drifted off, a sense of foreboding had gripped him so strongly he’d almost struggled to breathe.
“Lord, please help me to sleep. Please, keep Susan safe. And please help me to rest inYou and in Your sovereignty tonight.”
The God who’d made the strong, immovable mountains and the bright, silvery moon had made him, too. And He cared about all of His creation. Ifor sighed. Hedidn’t have to worry. God never slumbered. He was watching over Lone Pine, just as He was watching over all the other places in the world, all the other people whether asleep or awake.
He was watching over Ifor—and over Susan.
Ifor breathed a prayer of thanks, then headed for his bed. A few paces away from it, he froze. A shudder passed through him, but it wasn’t his own. Rumbling filled the air. Was it thunder? But there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. How could there be thunder without a storm?
He lurched forward as the tremor intensified. A roaring sound filled his ears, so loud he couldn’t think, couldn’t move. The floor beneath his feet trembled, and one by one the wooden beams began to crack.
As though in a dream, he flew to the door, while parts of the ceiling began raining down on him.
“Tad!”
He ran to his father’s room, the floor shaking and the ceiling falling all the while. Swinging the door open, he saw his father sitting perched on the side of his bed, his sleepy eyes looking around the room in utter shock.
“Tad, we have to get out—now!”
Ifor stepped forward, thrusting his arm out, silently pleading for his father to grasp his hand.
But just before he could reach him, a cracking sound split the air and a large portion of the roof collapsed, falling directly between them.
Dust and debris scattered through the air, obscuring his view.
“Tad!”