Page 155 of Sheltering You

The truth of it had moisture filling his eyes.

Thank You.

Only God could’ve done this.

He finished nailing the tarp in place and descended the ladder, passing more bullet holes as he went down. How in the world was Dad going to explain this to the insurance company?

We were attacked by terrorists.

No, seriously…

“What are you grinning about?” Daniel asked when Derrick joined him on the ground.

“Just wondering if we’re going to end up in one of those ‘strangest homeowner’s insurance claims’ commercials.”

Daniel chuckled, lowering the extension ladder. “Let’s hope not. The Wrights have had enough excitement for all our lifetimes, if you ask me.”

That was the truth.

They hefted the ladder across the lawn on trampled snow toward the storage barn at the rear of the property.

They’d been through enough trouble, all of them. And yet, somehow, they’d survived—more than survived.

Grant and Summer would be parents soon. Dad had thoroughly examined Summer and pronounced her fit, except for the bump on her head and some bruises.

Daniel and Camilla had their beautiful, healthy grown children.

Sam and Eliza had Levi. Though they hadn’t made an announcement, Derrick guessed by the weight Eliza had put on that she was expecting.

Michael and Leila would be married in the spring, and though it wasn’t official, Bryan and his princess bride wouldn’t be far behind.

And there was Jasmine.

She was free of her husband. Free to marry.

Derrick had hardly let himself consider what it meant.

Was it wrong to celebrate the man’s death? Maybe.

But Derrick hadn’t shot him. He’d wanted to, God help him. But he hadn’t done it. He’d left his future in God’s hands, and… Well, God had let the guy die.

Whoever had shot him…that was an issue for Michael and his people to figure out. Definitely not Derrick’s problem.

Considering everything Qasim had done, Derrick wouldn’t be shedding a tear for the terrorist.

After stowing the ladder, Derrick followed his big brother up the stairs to the patio, his gaze catching on the bloodstained snow on the far side of the yard.

Khalid’s body was gone, along with all the others, driven on the family’s carts across the island to the north docks, where they were loaded up and taken back to the mainland. Derrick had no idea what Michael’s team would do with them now. Probably ID them if they could, figure out if they were US citizens or immigrants—legal or not. Maybe they’d try to work backward and figure out how the men had ended up working for Khalid.

Maybe the wounded combatants would be able to help with that.

None of that was Derrick’s problem.

The sun was shining, the snow evaporating. Soon enough, all traces of the terrorists would fade into the land again, as if they’d never been there at all.

Derrick followed his brother into the kitchen, which was filled with the most glorious scents he could imagine. Meat and roasting vegetables and cinnamon and chocolate. Dishes covered every surface, the food hidden by layers of aluminum foil.

Flames danced in the fireplace on the far side of the great room, where the Christmas tree towered to the ceiling. Somehow, the wall of windows had remained undamaged. Amazing.