Any Minute by Joyce Meyer

Author:Joyce Meyer
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fiction
Published: 2012-01-03T16:46:10+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

What does a person do at a time like this, Joe thought, when you really don't know how to pray?

Joe crouched beside the riverbank and stared into the murky water. The police captain had been right. Even where the river lapped onto shore, he could barely see an inch beneath it. He glanced over his shoulder to see if his friend Pete was watching. Then Joe slipped his hand into the water and watched his skin instantly tint a sickly shade of green. Another four inches deeper and he couldn't see his fingers at all anymore.

As surely as he felt his hand attached to his arm beneath the water, Joe felt his wife somewhere down there too, crying out to him, floating away from him. And even though an army of professional rescuers searched for Sarah, Joe couldn't shake the feeling that he was the one who was supposed to find her. Maybe if he just kept hoping she was alive, that would draw her to him. All he knew was that he couldn't give up... not yet, anyway.

He should have let the chaplain stay. That would have been better than phoning the pastor at the church they'd attended a few times. It would have been easier and better and guilt free . How did you say, "You don't know me, but I need you"?

Maybe pastors got calls like that all the time. Joe wondered.

The day Joe had met Sarah, everyone at the Chicago bank had told him he couldn't cash his paycheck. Here they'd been, a group of college guys who couldn't have looked more bedraggled if they'd been hiking cross-country, making a scene in the lobby and refusing to leave.

The teller had examined the draft he'd slid across the ledge toward her. "It's out of state." She'd laid both hands flat, one on either side of the check, and said, "There's nothing I can do. I'm sorry."

The teller had been kind of cute and he'd had an audience--four of the guys he hung out with stood nearby. Joe leaned forward on crumpled sleeves that hadn't seen the inside of a washer for a good month. He veed his fingers alongside a jaw that hadn't seen a razor for days. "What's wrong?" He shot her a come-hither glance that he knew worked magic with women. "Don't I look like someone you can trust?"

"I'll get my manager," she said with distaste.

"Yes. You do that."

Joe winked across the lobby at his buddies, one possessive arm still crooked across the counter, making sure the guys noticed he had pull in this place. He expected an old battle-ax to emerge through the swinging door, someone he could charm with his quick wit, his ready smile, and his round, dark eyes. Especially his round, dark eyes. He put a lot of faith in those. Generally he could get anything he wanted when he flashed them.

He should have known what he was up against the moment Sarah Cattalo strong-armed the door the way a running back would strong-arm a tackle.

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