Chapter 23
Jenna sat on the couch and listened to the house. She watched as the fireplace threw unsteady light across the walls. Ruby had lit two candles and set them on the coffee table, their small flames moving in the drafts she couldn’t feel. They offered a small comfort.
No one spoke. They were all doing the same thing—listening for Luke and Caleb, tracking any sounds from outside, and waiting to hear what happened. The dogs stayed inside with them, keeping guard over everything.
Then from upstairs, a voice cut through the silence of the house, “Daddy?”
Cora. Her pitch sounded high and frightened.
Jenna jumped to her feet. She started toward the stairs before pausing to look at Ruby.
Yes, Cora was her child. But the situation was complicated, and part of her still felt like she needed permission.
Ruby looked at her. “Go.”
Jenna took the stairs quickly and reached the children’s room.
“Mama?” Cora asked as soon as the door opened.
In the darkness, Jenna could make out the shape of her daughter sitting upright in bed with her blanket clutched to her chest.
“I’m here.” Jenna crossed to her. “I’ve got you.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, and Cora leaned into her embrace.
“I couldn’t see anything,” Cora said into her shoulder. “My nightlight went out.”
“I know, baby. It’s okay.” She held her and looked around the room.
Jonah was still asleep on the trundle, one arm flung out, utterly undisturbed. Liam sat up in his bed, watching her in the darkness with those careful eyes.
“Is everything okay?” His voice sounded quiet and controlled—and older than eight.
“Everything is fine,” Jenna said. “Dad and Uncle Caleb are outside checking to see what happened. It was probably just the storm. They’ll have the power back on soon.”
Liam studied her a moment before frowning and lying back down.
Jenna held Cora, stroking her hair.
She thanked God for the blessing of being with her kids. But she also apologized for bringing this trouble their way.
Why was it so hard to figure out the right thing sometimes?
Luke shone the flashlight inside the utility box.
Someone had worked one of the levers with enough force to leave scratch marks on the housing around it.
“Someone clearly did this on purpose.” Caleb leaned in beside him. “My guess? Travis Henderson.”
“I could see him doing this.” Luke swept the flashlight across the ground around the box.
Boot prints had been left in the soft earth—one set that appeared to first approach the house and then leave in the same direction.
Using his beam, he followed the path to the fence at the back of the property.
Whoever had left the prints was gone. Searching the property wouldn’t do much good.
Someone had done this to send a message. To cause fear.
His back muscles hardened.
He headed back and reset the breaker.
The exterior lights immediately came back on, and a moment later he saw the kitchen light through the window. Caleb exhaled beside him.
Luke stood in the restored light, looking again at the boot prints in the dirt.
He wasn’t angry. He was something colder than angry. Too many threats were converging from too many directions, and he didn’t have enough information about any of them to know which one to focus on tonight.
All of them, probably. That was the honest answer.
“I need to call Micah.” Caleb pulled out his phone.
A moment later, he was explaining the situation to Micah.
As they spoke, Luke surveyed the woods in the distance.
Was the person who’d done this still out there? He didn’t know. But it was a real possibility.
Caleb ended the call and looked at Luke, something shifting behind his expression. “Micah is going to come out in the morning. He has another situation he’s dealing with right now.”
“What kind of situation?”
Caleb hesitated. “A young woman. Found unconscious behind Ember & Oak about an hour ago. One of their servers, apparently. They don’t know yet if she’s going to be okay. They think maybe her boyfriend was behind it.”
The words landed wrong. Luke turned them over, not sure why they snagged the way they did.
Ember & Oak. Where Jenna and Wes had eaten lunch.
He didn’t say it out loud. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was exactly what it looked like—a random, terrible thing that had nothing to do with any of this.
He didn’t believe that. Not tonight.
“If we sense any imminent danger, we should call him,” Caleb added. “He made that clear.”
“Understood.” Luke studied his brother’s face, sensing something else behind his gaze. “What are you thinking?”
“We’ve got a professional shooter who’s possibly been contracted to find Jenna. We’ve got Travis Henderson, whose main goal in life is to stir up trouble. And we have the Hardings breathing down our neck.” Caleb paused. “And now this.”
“I know.” Luke wished there was something more he could say, some kind of solution he could offer.
But there was none.
Caleb gestured toward the house. “Come on. It’s cold.”
Luke nodded, but the weight of everything settled across his shoulders.
He didn’t know how to hold all of it at once.
But he had no choice but to move forward.