Chapter 20
Jerald peered through the powerful lens of the telescope, surveying the chapel and the woods that surrounded it like a natural fortress.
Half an hour ago the police officer charged with overseeing a local youth group’s prayer vigil at the chapel had climbed the stone steps and walked the length of the structure several times.
Eventually he had sought the warmth of his cruiser.
Jerald presumed the officer would remain for a time to ensure none returned with mischief in mind.
Jerald stepped away from the telescope. It was almost midnight and he was tired.
. . . you can’t watch every minute.
Sarah Newton was right. He couldn’t keep a constant vigil. Jerald sighed. That was someone else’s responsibility now. But he could protect his own.
He moved quietly to the second floor. The door to his daughter’s room was open, the television blaring at its sleeping audience.
A smile touched his lips as he neared her bed.
He loved her so very much. Until she’d come into his life, he hadn’t known it was possible to feel so thoroughly connected to another human being.
She slept so peacefully. Worry tugged at his heart. He wanted her to have a rich, full life. Unburdened by his weaknesses. As if on cue, his hands trembled, felt numb.
Whatever it took, he reaffirmed, he would protect his daughter and his wife.
He slipped from her room, closing the door behind him. He would keep those he loved safe . . . no matter the cost.
Down the hall he paused at the double doors leading to the master suite. Still closed. His wife remained angry with him. They had argued again over what was best for their daughter.
He walked away, chose a guest room for the night. It wouldn’t be the first time he and his wife had taken a night apart. After more than two decades of marriage, it wasn’t so unusual to need space. It was the subject of their disagreements that grieved him so deeply.
She would never understand.
This was a situation Jerald would have to handle alone.
No one would understand.
Except . . . perhaps Sarah Newton.