“Church saved me,” Chloe said, their conversation weaving as it had the night on the lanai. “Rather, the Lord did. Can I say that and not sound like a TV evangelist? My first Sunday I wept nonstop for two hours. I thought I was losing my mind. A couple of women took me aside, and while I snotted all over one’s shoulder, the other told me about a God who loved me and gave His life for me. He defended me. He covered my shame.” As she spoke, Jesse sobered, tearing at his wadded-up napkin. “I knew it was true. I needed it to be true.”
Jesse frowned, perplexed and curious. “Are you saying you’re born again?” He air-quotedborn again.
“Call it what you will, Jesse, but in the aftermath of Haden, I was chained to despair. Then I spent two hours on a Sunday morning with people who truly loved Jesus, and I was free. When I thought I’d like to start trusting again, I—” She should just shut up. Like now. But her lips kept moving. “I met you.”
Jesse shoved his clean Styrofoam plate aside. “So we’re back to this.”
Their eyes met, and the conversation stalled. She loved him. But she’d said enough for one day.
The waitress cleared away their plates, providing a timely distraction.
“When do I get to read Hamilton’s letter?” Chloe said, reading the bill and dropping a ten on the table.
“Never.” Jesse added another five.
“Never?” She grabbed her purse and started for the door.
“Never.” Jesse followed, toothpick between his lips.
“Like, ten years from now, if I visit you at Christmas and ask, ‘Can I read the letter?’ You’ll say—”
“No.”
Chloe stopped at the car. “Why not?”
“Why do you want to read it?” He walked around to the passenger door. He wassomessing with her.
“Because it inspired this screenplay. Because you’re my friend. What’s the big deal? Everyone is going to ask you about it.”
“Watch the movie.” Jesse snapped on his seat belt.
Chloe sat behind the wheel. “You’ll be the death of me, Gates.” She froze, her gaze creeping toward Jesse. Death? “Jesse, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked for messages. “Just a figure of speech.”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“Chloe, it’s okay.”
As she started the car, his phone rang.
“It’s Jeremiah,” he said. “Hey, what’s up?... Yeah? She’s with me... Okay... we’ll be there.” Ending the call, he tucked his phone away with a glance at her. “Jer wants to meet with us at Chris’s place.”
“Did he say why? Don’t tell me Chris is walking off the set.” She gunned the gas, firing onto the road. “I’m going to kill him.”
Once again the car was silent, and the morning sun disappeared behind a collection of ominous clouds, obscuring the horizon.
21
ESTHER
Whoa.” Esther reined in Gulliver, arriving at a small home just off Green River Road, a golden light in every window. The scent of burning wood tinged the bitter breeze.
The sign above the porch overhang announcedSurgeon Dr. Robert Nelson.
“We’re here.” Esther jumped from the buckboard, offering her hand to Mrs. Lightfoot.
Upon the news of Hamilton’s fate, she set aside worries of her father’s health and his animosity toward the Lightfoots and started the long journey to Hannah’s Cowpens.
