Page 29 of Still Afraid

She showed him the things and reminisced, letting the happy memories of what she’d shared with her high school sweetheart pour out.

After Chloe had shared the contents of her Owen box with him, Josh took it out to his vehicle for safe transport to his … their house. He was grateful she felt safe to share those memories with him. Though completely confident in their love, he was surprised it didn’t bother him at all to hear about the boy she loved before. The tragedy of Owen’s death would always be a scar on her heart, but it was part of her story. God used it to shape her into the woman he loved.

While he was at his SUV, Josh grabbed the SAR pack she’d left at his house. She had meant to take it home last night, but they had both forgotten.

He set it beside the couch they’d left for showings once the house was on the market.

While Gabe and Jesse patched the wall, and Aliza and Kelsey, Jesse’s wife, packed up the kitchen, Josh worked on Chloe’s extensive book collection. They’d need a bigger house sooner rather than later, so she could have a dedicated library for all her treasures.

Josh taped together another book box, thankful they had plenty of the smaller boxes. Any larger would no doubt be hernia-inducing, considering her wide collection of hardbacks.

He gathered volumes that weren’t collector’s editions and had loaded three boxes full before Chloe approached him.

“I’m ready to move the boxes out of the closet.” She twisted her engagement ring on her finger—that wasn’t a normal fidget for her.

Josh jumped to his feet and strode toward her. He rested his hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Her eyebrows scrunched. “Maybe a little tired.”

“I’ll help with those boxes. I put your pack by the couch. You sure you want it here?”

“I need to refresh a few things I probably won’t move until next weekend.”

“Fair.”

They went to the closet and each grabbed an armload of boxes, which they carried outside to the trailer Gabe had brought.

“You know the books should probably go first and under these lighter-weight boxes,” Josh suggested.

Chloe turned to him with a blank expression. Then the words processed. “That would make sense … should we finish the books first?”

He closed the distance between them. “You say you’re okay, but you’re acting more distracted than normal.”

“Head just feels a little swimmy. Let’s finish packing up the books.”

She brushed past him and plodded to the house.

He knew her well enough to recognize that while she didn’t want to admit it, her anxiety was rising. She’d been holding up well since the tornado the other day. But was this increasing anxiety a result of the tornado catching up with her or the car break-in or had looking through her Owen box sent her spiraling?

He prayed for her as he followed her back into the house.

Quietly they packed the books, Chloe taking extra care with her collector’s editions and older volumes. Her anxiety seemed to dissipate as she focused on her task, yet Josh continued to pray. He wished he could wipe it out of her mind, but he knew anxiety wasn’t so simple. It needed healing and surrendering to God.

Chapter Nine

After hours of packing, loading, and unloading, Chloe and everyone else arrived at her parents’ farm for dinner.

As soon as the door opened, Poirot bounded into the living room, no doubt to curl up on the couch in his favorite spot. Thankfully, Mom and Dad loved him.

When they entered the house, Mom came from the direction of the kitchen in her normal fashion, with a dish towel draped across her shoulder. Chloe went straight into her warm embrace. Nothing compared to a mother’s tender hug. The anxiety that had been ratcheting up eased a bit as her mom’s arms tightened around her.

“How are you doing, sweetie?”

Chloe stepped back. “Better now.”

Mom hugged everyone else, and Josh caught Chloe’s gaze. She shot him a warm smile, hoping he wouldn’t ask any more questions. Apparently her anxiety was showing enough for him to catch on, but the last thing she wanted was for him to coddle her.

Not that he was a coddler, but the more anxious she was, the more loving care felt like coddling.