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Faith sent him a long, searching look. “Thank you so much for your help.” Her tone said, I see how it is. Goodbye, Fitz.
He grimaced, pushed to his feet, and stepped off the porch.
“Wait!” Olivia came running from a dark corner of the yard. “You have to see my lamp.” She carried the jar like a trophy, rushing up to him.
“Let me see.” He studied the jar, all too aware of Faith standing at the porch rail watching him.
Olivia held up her lamp. “You have to wait for them to light up. I caught four of them.”
Charmed by her enthusiasm, he waited.
At last, a burst of pure gold illumined the glass jar, then another, and then another.
“See?”
“I do see. It’s beautiful.”
She grinned up at him, proud of her accomplishment.
Sensing Faith was about to come off the porch, Fitz forestalled her by calling, “Good luck with your clients on Monday, Faith, though I don’t think you’ll need it.”
“I hope you’re right, Fitz. Be safe driving home. And thank you again.”
Olivia regarded him expectantly. “Are you coming back soon?”
Instead of answering, he ruffled her hair before hastening like a coward to his car.
As he backed up his Lexus, careful not to run over Olivia, his gaze flicked to the woman still standing on the porch watching him leave. Guilt and longing pegged him simultaneously. He was going to miss her.
Not a mile from the ranch, Mary’s voice murmured in his head.
“The light shines in the darkness”
Fitz frowned and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Mary knew a lot of Scripture. In fact, she often used to wield it like a weapon to prove her point. So what point was she—or his conscience—trying to make now? Apart from the light of Olivia’s lamp, he had no idea why those words were in his head or what they meant.
“And the darkness has not overcome it.”
As the second half of the verse sank into his brain, a rash of goosebumps broke out on his skin. Were those words a prophecy for his personal life?
No, no. He wasn’t ready to crawl out from under the rock he’d hidden beneath these past seven years. He wasn’t ready to be real again.
* * *
I should have left a light on.
Grace unlocked the front door of her condominium with trepidation. At least the soldier wasn’t waiting for her on the porch this time. As her door swung open, she groped inside for the light switch and flipped on the foyer light before stepping warily inside.
“This is crazy.” Her whispered words only terrified her further. She’d spent plenty of her life alone before. There’d never been a hostile entity lying in wait for her, telling her she was almost his. It was almost like—don’t think it!—demonic possession.
Goosebumps sprouted on her forearms before spreading down the length of her body.
If God didn’t exist, then neither did demons. She slammed her purse down on the slender entryway table, making plenty of noise just to reassure herself. Bending over, she untied the boots she’d worn before stepping back outside onto her stoop to bang the dirt off over the railing. Her visions had to be caused by post-traumatic stress. No wonder poor Mateo suffered from night terrors. He’d been through more than she had, and he was only four years old.
She locked herself back inside, leaving her boots in the entryway closet. As she crossed the living room on stockinged feet, intending to grab a can of seltzer water from the fridge, a floorboard in the master bedroom overhead gave a groan.
Grace froze, heart in her throat, skin prickling. She listened. Maybe it was the floor under her own feet that had creaked. But then she heard it again and again. Someone was walking across her bedroom, headed for the stairs in the hall.
She didn’t wait for the soldier to descend. She knew it was him. Whirling, she fled for the door, snatching up her purse on the way. With hands that quaked, she locked the being inside and ran for her car.
