The Winding Road Home by Sally John

Author:Sally John
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780736938792
Publisher: Harvest House Publishers, Inc.

Twenty-Three

During the opening hymn at the Sunday morning church service, Graham exchanged a look across the aisle and two pews up with Deputy Cal Huntington. The look indicated they would be talking in the near future.

Adele smiled up at him and nudged her shoulder against his arm, reminding him the hymnal was open for a reason. He joined in the singing.

Last night they had agreed on maintaining the status quo. In his vulnerability, he knew he was growing dependent on her company. In the norm, he would have fought against that. But then, he was losing sight of what the norm was anymore. He never imagined God granting him the ability or desire to love again. That it was happening under the present circumstances completely bewildered him.

Jesus, I don’t have a choice. Is that it? I have to trust that You’re in this.

Adele tugged on his sleeve, pulling him to sit down. When he settled next to her on the pew, she slid her hand into his. Status quo meant they still held hands while he averted his eyes from her lips. For how long this could go on, he didn’t know.

But then I really don’t know much.

She was incredibly naïve. He kept looking for cracks in it, for a glimmer of falsehood, of distrust, of evidence that she believed the world owed her one. He couldn’t find any of that, increasing his desire to protect her. The discombobulating thing of it all was that he knew the source of her danger: It lay in Graham Logan.

He paid the service only partial attention. What might appear as distraction to Adele was simply him praying unceasingly for forgiveness.

After the service, as they greeted others in the crowded foyer, a woman caught Adele by the arm. Adele introduced her as Lia Huntington. A moment later the women were head-to-head and Graham was catching a nod from Cal, who stood near the front door. Two minutes later they were in the parking lot, enjoying a breath of air laced with an early hint of spring.

“Graham.” Cal wasn’t smiling. “I was hoping you might fill me in. Save me a lot of time from trying to figure out why the dean of Northwestern’s history department has never heard of you or Lawrence Neuman. Or how, as of late last night, your name appears on their Website’s faculty list. Or where you got the strings to pull that off.”

“You work fast, Officer.”

His face went rigid.

Of all the schools in Illinois, I pick Northwestern, which just happens to have connections in Valley Oaks? God must be in it. There must be a reason for this conversation. Perhaps for the simple fact that he was growing weary of carrying the secret alone.

“All right.” Graham smiled. “I appreciate you not bringing this up in front of Adele. Do you mind uncrossing your arms? Maybe smile a little, like we’re anticipating the Bulls game today? It’s a long story.”

He didn’t budge. “Give me the short version.”

“My name is Graham Logan.

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