Reviving Jules by Peggy Trotter

Author:Peggy Trotter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: harlequin, clean romance, inspirational romance, christian romance, sweet romance, wholesome romance, contemporary christian romance, love inspired, sweet romantic story
Publisher: Prism Book Group

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Darrell was dead. A nightmare. Or was it a daymare? What did one call a bad dream in the day? The movement of the vehicle stopped, and she glanced up to see Rhett opening her door. It was Rhett. He was here. After unbuckling her belt, he wrapped her in the blanket and carried her through the garage to his house. She stared at the white ceiling as her head bounced along, noting the garage door openers. This wasn’t her home. Why were they here? He weaved his way down the hall until they reached a large bedroom. He carefully laid her down and covered her up. She shivered.

“Daddy? Why is Jules in your bed?”

“Andi, darlin’, she’s sick. I need you to go watch a movie, or play, and be very quiet. Jules needs some rest now.”

“Okay.”

The bed eased beneath her as Rhett disappeared from view. She closed her eyes. Why did it seem so cold in here? A warm, wet cloth touched her forehead. She blinked. Rhett must have returned. He wiped her face and brushed back the stray hairs.

“He’s dead. He’s dead.” A moan echoed through the room. Who’d made such a mournful groan? Oh, it was her own voice. “He’s really dead, isn’t he?”

More blankets piled on her. Her skin turned absolutely glacial.

“Yes, Jules. Close your eyes. You need to sleep.”

Her teeth chattered. Sleep. Yes, blissful sleep. She closed her eyes and pulled the comforter over her head and shivered. God, please. Let me sleep.

* * *

She woke with a gasp, sitting straight up in bed. The room was dark. Her eyes searched the area for some evidence of her location. Then, realization washed over her. She located small red digits. Two-fifty a.m. Rhett’s bed. Rhett’s house.

Darrell. Was. Dead.

A sob rolled up her throat and escaped. She slapped a hand over her mouth, but the door creaked open. A figure moved through the door, bringing in a dim slant of light.

“It’s me, Jules.” Rhett settled on the edge of the bed and took her in his arms. He held her like a little child as broken sobs tore from her. Her body relaxed as her grief subsided. The brightening glow at the window indicating dawn approached. Her eyes grew heavy, and Rhett tucked her under the blankets and sat holding her hand. She tried to stay awake, but her treasonous lids slid shut.

The bright sun behind the curtains woke Jules the second time. She squinted at the light and tears wet her cheeks. Throwing back the covers, she located a tissue box on the bedside table and seized one to mop the moisture away and then buried her face in her hands. Oh, the awful truth of the day before resonated in painful waves. Her ex-husband, whom she’d been married to for twenty years, was gone. How and why, she wasn’t quite sure.

Talking to Hannah on the phone reverberated through her skull like some hellish horror movie. She couldn’t remember details. Glancing around, she caught sight of a door and, figuring it to be the bathroom, she stood and walked towards it.

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