Josiah’s career took off, they’d golfed together a few times. Played on the same summer softball league. Wade was a decent pitcher. Not stellar, but decent. They’d worked together on a community project or two. Years ago. Before the worldwide community started clamoring for more of Josiah’s time.
Josiah majored in confidence. On the surface. Wade had always seemed content.
Someday he’d have to sit down and think about why that would be an issue that nagged at Josiah when they were together. Right now, he needed to get the neighbor kid on the phone and Sandi back in the house.
And get that mental picture out of his mind—his wife and Wade intertwined.
The phone rang before he could find Tad’s number on his contacts list.
“Mr. Chamberlain? This is Deputy Tuttle again. We spoke last night.”
“Yes. I hoped we’d get a chance to talk. I have some questions for you.”
“The accident is still under investigation. But I’ll share the few details I know. Can you come to the sheriff’s office during business hours tomorrow?”
Heat crept up the back of his neck. “My wife’s still hospitalized, so I need to be with her.”
“Oh. I’m grateful.”
Grateful?
“I don’t think any of us expected her to survive.”
The heat turned instantly freezer-burn cold.
“Well, she did. So far.” What do you say to someone who’s surprised your wife is alive?
“If you’d prefer, I can meet you at the hospital to answer some of your questions tomorrow. Right now I need to let you know where your wife’s car has been taken. We’ve finished that aspect of the investigation. It’s routine to investigate even single-vehicle accidents with fatalities. I don’t think there’s any question that the car’s totaled. You’ve called your insurance company, I assume.”
Josiah bit the inside of his lower lip.
“Mr. Chamberlain?”
“No. I haven’t taken care of that yet.”
“You can give your agent my number for the report he’ll need.”
Why would Morris want to talk to—Oh. Insurance agent. Sleep deprivation and having your emotional guts ripped out made rational thought impossible, apparently. “Thanks.”
“And you’ll want to retrieve anything salvageable from the vehicle before long. Contents of the glove box. Your wife’s suitcase.”
Another gut punch.
Josiah lifted the front edge of his long-sleeved tee shirt, surprised he saw no bruises.
Chapter 7
Winter’s tenacity has an expiration date. Hold onto that truth when its biting winds seem to hold spring hostage.
~Seedlings & Sentiments
from the “Encouragement” collection
Sandi? Come here, girl.”
Where was that old towel Karin used when Sandi’s feet were muddy? With the yard in such rough shape, those paws would be caked after this length of time outside.
“Sandi! Food!” A surefire result-getter.
Josiah propped open the door to the backyard and scanned for a furry but happy animal. Nothing.
“Sandi, get your rear end in here!” He whistled like a junior high boy at a girl’s volleyball game. Where was she? Come on. He did not need this. Not today.
Stupid, stupid phone. He yanked it out of his pocket, his eyes glued on the farthest corners of their half-acre lot, anticipating a tongue-flapping, tail-wagging reunion any second now. “Yes? What?”
“Josiah, do you have anger ish-ee-ooos?” Janelle asked.
“Oh, Janelle. You got my message.”
“You didn’t leave one. But I recognized your number. Hey, where were you guys this morning? We missed you in Sunday school. The Larsons tore up the class with their report on the ‘In Love Forever’ seminar they attended in the cities. You would have laughed your socks off at the ridiculous advice they were given. A hot tub filled with champagne? Those so-called marriage experts could have used a few lessons from you, Josiah.”
She continued to talk. Josiah gulped back man tears.
“Janelle, I have to interrupt. Karin’s in the hospital.”
“What? Oh, no! After all she’s been through?”
All she’s been through? What did that mean? “She was in an accident last night.”
“No! What happened? The roads were awful. They closed the interstate for a while.”
“I know.”
“How is she? Can I see her? What does she need?”
“Janelle, she’s in intensive care.”
“Intensive care? How bad is it?”
Josiah turned his back on the empty yard where Sandi should be and walked back toward the kitchen. “It’s not good. I don’t know much yet.”
“What are the doctors saying?”
“When she came out of surgery, they said—”
Janelle’s sharp intake of breath was loud enough for him to hear through the phone. “Surgery?”
“To relieve pressure in her brain.” His throat was closing off again.
“I can’t believe this. I just saw her yesterday morning. I stopped at Seedlings & Sentiments to pick up my order.”
Josiah forced himself to ask, “Did you know about . . . about him?”
“It’s a him? I thought it was too early to tell for sure.”
“What?”
“I know technology has come a long way, even since my Megan was born.”
She was talking about the baby. “So, you know about the child?”
“That’s okay with you, isn’t it? I mean, I know Karin wanted to keep everything quiet for a while.”
Understatement.
“But, I mean, it was obvious she was pregnant. How could I not ask her?”
Obvious.
“Josiah?”
