Page 65 of Second Chance Serenity

“He’s private security,” I say. “I hired him after I was attacked.”

“You’ve had a rough go of it recently.”

“Understatement.” I start eating again, my gaze leveling on Michael.

I study his face in the dim light cast by the lanterns on the wall. He’s so handsome. So ruggedly beautiful that it hurts my heart. He could have died today. He still could die if this fever continues to take root.

What will I do then? How will I survive in a world without Michael Anderson?

The image of him jumping out of his truck as I was being attacked in the school parking lot swims into my memory, and fresh tears spring to my eyes. Why couldn’t he have loved me enough not to leave in the first place?

“Coffee?” Caleb pulls me from thoughts of the past, so I refocus on the present. “I imagine you won’t be getting much sleep tonight.”

“You’d be right,” I reply with a laugh. “And that would be great, thanks.”

He gets to his feet and starts prepping a pour-over container. Then he scoops some water into a Dutch oven and hangs it over the fire. After adding some wood to it, he takes a seat at the table and opens a book that sits on top.

“What are you reading?” I whisper.

“The Word,” he replies with a friendly smile, keeping his hand in the pages as he shows me the front of his Bible. It’s aged, worn down by years of use, but it’s still one of the most beautiful books I’ve ever seen. “You a follower?” he asks.

“‘I amthe wayand the truthand the life.No one comes to the Father except through me,’” I tell him with a smile.

“John 4:6.” He nods appreciatively.

“Yes, sir.” I smile.

“It was hard for me to find meaning in her death after my Sydney passed. But once I started reading her old Bible, I knew there was a reason. Still haven’t figured it out yet, but I believe in God’s plan.” He smiles up at me as he lovingly strokes the cover. “It’s hard, sometimes, to praise Him from the furnace.”

I glance down at Michael. I didn’t lose him in the way Caleb lost his Sydney, but I still struggled to understand why God let him leave me. Why didn’t He stop Michael from walking out the door? Free will is a piece of it, sure, and I always understood that. But it hurt me when he left. And that hurt made it impossible to see it from Michael’s—or even God’s—perspective. What good could come from Michael becoming a soldier?

My thoughts turn to that moment in the warehouse. To the desire I’d had to pull his face down and kiss his lips one final time. Taste the passion we’ve always shared once more before we faced what could have very well been our death.

It’s good I didn’t—or that’s what I’m going to continue telling myself. Maybe someday I’ll believe it.

“I couldn’t agree with you more, Caleb.”

He follows my gaze. “You two are something special. I can see it in his eyes. The way he looks at you, and the way you watch him.”

“We were something special,” I reply. “A long time ago.”

“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

I face him again and offer a half smile. “He made a choice that took him away from me, and he did it without ever telling me why.”

“Sometimes men do stupid stuff,” Caleb replies with a chuckle. “I bet he figures it out soon. Just how foolish it was to let you go. Women like you and my Sydney don’t come along every day,” he replies with a wink.

“Thanks, Caleb,” I reply, though I don’t tell Caleb that Michael already did figure it out. He’s been trying to get me back since he returned home. I’m just not sure my heart could take being broken again, and I’m not sure I’m strong enough to find out.

Not even for him.

At some point, I dozed off because Caleb shakes me awake and presses his finger to his lips. He points outside and shoves a pistol into my hand. “Someone’s out there,” he leans in and whispers. “Stay here, shoot anyone but me who comes through that door.”

“Caleb—”

“I’ve got you, girl,” he says softly, then pats my shoulder.

I check Michael’s breathing, noting that it’s more shallow now than it was before I dozed off. Please, God. This is too much. I can’t take any more.

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