And that’s something I can’t let happen—ever.
No matter what happens, I can’t go after Slater. Not if it’ll put my brothers at risk too. So I’ll do as Tucker asked, and I’ll trust the process.
I’ll put my faith in God showing us the way out of this mess. Because, even if I may worry that He’s forgotten about me, He hasn’t forgotten my brother. Or Emma.
Emma opens the door to her bedroom and steps out. Her face is red from crying, but she smiles in an attempt to hide it from me. “Hey, what’s up?”
I wish I could hug her.
Wish I could wrap my arms around her and pull her against my chest, soothing the ache I know we’re both feeling. But even just thinking about it sets off a chain reaction in my body. My heart rate increases, and my stomach churns, so I shove my hands into my pockets. “I have something to show you.”
“Oh?” She leaves her bedroom door open and heads down the hall. “What is it?”
“Outside.” I turn and head back through the house and onto the back porch.
The moment she steps outside, Emma gasps. “Dylan. They’re beautiful!” She rushes down the porch and toward the collection of still-potted flowers I placed near the bags of mulch and rolls of landscape fabric waiting beside that grassy area she said would be perfect for flowers.
“I also grabbed some wildflower seeds. Figured we could sprinkle those between the planted flowers, that way we get color now too.”
Emma turns toward me, a bright, happy smile on her face. “We?”
I shrug. “Ranch chores are being handled by my brothers right now, so I have a lot more time on my hands than I’m used to. Might be good to put them to work.”
She starts toward me, clearly ready to hug me, but stops, expression faltering just a little. “Thank you, Dylan.”
Try.
Trust.
Lord, please don’t forsake me in this moment. Please give me strength.
I close the distance between us, the air so thick that I can barely move. When I stop in front of her, Emma stares up at me with wide blue eyes. Lord, please, I pray again, then take her hand in mine and raise it, pressing it to my chest before covering it with mine.
I have to close my eyes as the edges of my vision begin to darken, but I still can’t find my breath. Sweat beads on the back of my neck.
My entire body is trembling, my heart racing, but I’m trying. Maybe if I keep trying, I’ll be able to heal. Delta leans against my leg, his attempt to help ground me in this moment. I hadn’t even heard him get up, but that’s not surprising.
He’s always there when I need him.
“Your heart is racing,” she whispers.
I nod, knowing I can’t find words right now.
“Thank you, Dylan.”
Once again, I nod. Her touch is heaven and hell at the same time. Sweet escape and brutal torture. Because I want more, but I know I can’t have it without risking losing my head in the PTSD that won’t seem to relinquish me.
God, please help me.
Emma pulls her hand away but doesn’t release mine. Instead, she presses my palm against her cheek.
Her skin is soft beneath my trembling fingers.
“How about we get these flowers planted?” she asks. I can feel her smile against my hand.
Opening my eyes, I stare into hers and feel some of the panic slowly slip away. I’m in my backyard with Emma.
Not in a prison cell, facing down an enemy.
