Protect her, Lord. Her and the baby both. He was still so weak, he wouldn’t be nearly enough to keep her safe. Only God could accomplish that feat. Gil couldn’t remember a time he’d been so completely reliant on the Father.Please, Lord.
Jess gave his hand a squeeze, then pulled away. He inhaled as large a breath as his ribs allowed, then raised his rifle and shifted deeper into the shadows of the opening, where he could see Jedidiah and the path Jess would take.
If Jedidiah saw Jess, would Gil have to shoot him? He’d not hesitate if Jess’s life were in danger, but a rifle blast would bring all the guards on the double. He and Jess would have only seconds to run. They’d decided that if someone saw them leaving, they’d sprint toward the creek where their tracks would be covered.
He had to be ready for anything.
Jess adjusted the pack on her back, then dropped parallel to the ground and crawled on her toes and elbows through the tall grass, moving left of the mountain.
As she inched her way forward, Gil couldn’t breathe, praying that Jedidiah's keen eyes wouldn't spot her slender form slithering through the underbrush. Each second felt like an eternity as she crept farther from the safety of the cave, farther from him.
Jedidiah hadn’t shifted, his dark eyes scanning the night. Did he sense her there, a shadow hiding among the swaying grass?
Gil kept his rifle aimed at the man. If he so much as waved his barrel in Jess’s direction, Gil would be ready.
At last, she reached the tree line, about twenty strides away. Relief washed through him.
Now came his turn.
He gathered his strength and lowered to the ground. He lay on his belly as she had, but had to roll to the right so he didn’t put weight on his left side, where his ribs screamed in pain. The rocky earth dug into his tender flesh as he crawled, gripping his rifle with one hand. Every movement hurt. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to keep moving.
Inch by excruciating inch, he dragged himself forward, his eyes fixed on the trees where Jess had disappeared. The tall grass itched his face, and despite the cool autumn air, sweat ran down his brow, the salty drops stinging his eyes as he fought to maintain his focus. Just a little farther. He could make it. He had to.
"Stop!" Jedidiah’s bark cut through the night.
Gil whipped his head sideways to see the threat. The man held his rifle aimed directly at Gil.
He froze, his mind racing. He was too far from the trees, too exposed. If he jumped up and ran, he'd never make it before Jedidiah cut him down.
A shot rang out, shattering the stillness.
Gil tensed, waiting for the impact. But Jedidiah’s gun hadn’t sparked.
He staggered back with a roar, his rifle dropping as he clutched at his shoulder.
Gil struggled to push up to his feet. This was his chance. “Run, Jess!” He shouted the word, his heart screaming for her to get far, far away from this place.
She screamed.
And it didn’t sound like she was running. Why?
He finally straightened, one hand gripping his injured ribs while his feet propelled him forward.
He couldn’t see her well in the shadows of the trees, but was she struggling against someone? Is that why she hadn’t run?
He surged forward, raising his rifle. But before he could take aim, a fist slammed into his jaw, knocking him backward. He stumbled. Pain exploded through his face as he fought to keep his balance. His vision swam.
Through the haze, he made out men emerging from the shadows, their guns trained on him and Jess. They were surrounded, outnumbered.
Finished.
The reality of their situation crashed over him.
They had failed. And the aftermath might prove worse for Jess than anything she’d faced before.
She struggled against the iron grip of the man restraining her, her eyes frantic. "Gil!" Her cry pierced the night, a plea and a prayer all in one.
He tried to move toward her, but rough hands grabbed him, wrenching the rifle from his grasp.
