Page 18 of The Rut in the Road

But he’d saved me from Garraway. My time down the well was mostly delirium from pain and hypothermia, but I definitely remembered the warmth of his big tiger body wrapped around me, sheltering me. Keeping me warm so that I wouldn’t shiver myself to death in the cold mud.

“You okay?” Raj murmured softly against my hair.

I nodded, then stepped back.

“You sure?”

I nodded again. “We should go to bed,” I said, turning toward my bedroom and its mattress. “You need the rest.”

“And you don’t?” He kicked off his shoes, picked up the bag, and followed me, setting the duffel down beside the mattress when we got to the bedroom.

I shrugged. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to go back to sleep,” I admitted, although I could feel exhaustion in my muscles and joints.

“Rayn—”

“I’m going to try,” I said, not wanting to argue with him. “I just…” I shrugged again.

He sat on the mattress, his knees bent, and looked up at me. “Come on,” he said softly, tugging me down.

I let him, just as I let him pull me into his arms under the covers, my cheek resting on the soft cotton of his t-shirt, warmed by the heat of his body.

I didn’t think I was going to sleep.

But I felt safe with Raj.

So I did.

4

He could feelthe thrill rushing through him, just like Jerry had said. The excitement. The knowledge that he was—they were—doing God’s work.

He was jittery, tapping his fingers against the plastic of the headlight, his foot bouncing on the pavement as he waited, watching. Looking for the sign that God would send.

Preacher Dale told them that God would make clear the way. That God would shine a light for them. To show them what to do. Where to go.

So he waited for the sign.

It came sooner than he expected.

Pain,searing, crushing. His legs didn’t work. Why didn’t his legs work?!

God. Please. Not like this.

I lookedup at Detective Dan Maza, his dark eyes shadowed.

He’d brought me a piece of yellow plastic from the headlight.

It had broken when it struck the victim.

I swallowed, and that’s when I realized my nose was stuffy and there were tears running down my cheeks.

“This struck him,” I rasped out. “Broke his spine, I think.” I swallowed again, bile pushing against the back of my throat from revulsion, not overexertion.

“You don’t have to do this, Rayn,” Ward said, putting a hand over mine.

“I’m okay,” I told him. “I just… He died. I—I wasn’t.” I swallowed again. “I wasn’t quite ready for that.”

I drew in a deep breath, trying to steady myself.