Kenna frowned over her drink, the scent making her think of her dad’s face with a scruff of beard and the flannel shirts he always wore. She found she missed him at odd times and in strange ways, like the smell of his coffee. If she thought about how he would never get to meet her daughter, she would start to cry, so instead she focused on the family this baby would have and asked, “Why do we need more cars?”
“You and Zeyla can go see the boyfriend.”
Ryson said, “His name is Marcus Neerwood.”
Jax continued, “I have an appointment at the prison to see Gerald Rickshire.”
“They called you back?”
He nodded. “When I was mapping the hospital. I’m not excited to go our separate ways this afternoon, but if you take Zeyla with you and you’re within twenty minutes of a hospital…”
“You think I’m going to have the baby this afternoon?”
“I think stress isn’t good. But neither is being cooped up in a car for days. When you get out and stretch your legs, things are going to compound, and who knows what will happen.”
Kenna folded one arm over her baby bump and held the mug with the other. “Hopefully, no gunmen, murderers, hitmen, assassins, ninjas, explosions, random crimes, fire of any kind…”
“We get it.” Jax grinned. “I’m not being paranoid. I’m being prepared.”
She loved that he cared about what happened to her. “I’ll be safe with Zeyla, and we’ll take the tank-car.”
Zeyla seemed pleased that Kenna intended to rely on her.
“I’ll stay here,” Maizie said, looking kind of relieved. “Keep an eye on the RV and work on the financials.”
Ryson said, “I’ll have the police department tech connect with you. Maybe you can team up?”
Maizie nodded. “All right.”
“We should pray before we part ways and get to work on this.” Kenna had a fear and desperation in her that drove her to do what it took to find someone. But that had to be tempered with prayer. With trusting that God had the whole situation in His hands. She’d yielded her life to Him, and that meant every part of it was now under the umbrella of His sovereignty.
Jax shifted closer and held her hand. He prayed aloud for their protection and for success in the investigation, then for Ellayna, Abe, and Crystal, that they would be safe wherever they were. That they wouldn’t be harmed but found quickly and rescued.
Ryson picked up at the tail end, and Kenna reveled in the chance to hear him pray aloud. She’d never had that kind ofrelationship with her friend, but now that she had faith and he had renewed his walk with the Lord, it gave them a whole extra way they could connect. She heard his heart in his words and the wisdom he brought to his roles as husband, father, and police officer.
She carried the warmth of his words and the hope she had from the Holy Spirit with her, holding it close while she and Zeyla headed across the city to the T-shirt printing company where Marcus Neerwood waited.
Zeyla slowed the car for congestion. The freeway that ran through Salt Lake City was just a continual mass of traffic no matter what time of day.
Kenna missed it, but also she didn’t. This part of the country was beautiful, and right now, it was freezing. She had liked living here because it was a unique area with a different kind of person who chose to reside here. A mess of religious life and secular culture. Secrets and hidden agendas, rather than overt crime, like in areas with a lot of visible gang activity.
“So, this guy is the dad, or not?” Zeyla fiddled with the radio, adjusting the volume.
Kenna said, “Marcus Neerwood is Bubby’s dad. That’s Ellayna’s little brother, Abe. She called him Bubby before. I don’t think Marcus and Crystal have lived together since before Abe was born. If they ever did, or have since, I don’t know.”
“Two kids, two dads, and no partner helping her at home.”
“It’s sadly really typical. But people do the best they can, and all our choices have consequences. There are ideals, sure. Ways thingsshouldbe. But it isn’t something I’ve ever experienced. I was raised in a trailer by a single working father.”
“I was just asking. Not judging Crystal.” Zeyla shrugged, but there was more to it.
“What’s up?”
Zeyla glanced over. “It’s my deal, not yours.”
“Okay, but hit me with it. I want to know where you’re at.”
Zeyla didn’t answer right away, but when she did, it wasn’t what Kenna expected. “I just… You’re lucky.”
