He had to admit, he had missed Nick’s companionship, but he certainly felt more at peace. That is, until four months ago when Nick interrupted a perfectly peaceful Monday morning breakfast with his domestic news. “Something more went on in that apartment last night, Brand, I’m telling you. Lyric refuses to talk.” Nick sighed. “I think I already know what.”

Brandon felt a twinge in his gut over Nick’s words. He retrieved a clean mug from the cabinet and filled it with strong coffee. “Talk to me.” He handed Nick the cup.

“Man, Brandon, I’ve tried to talk to her about residents. I told her to stay away from the KCOM guys.”

“Whoa, wait a minute. Your sister is dating a doc?”

“I told her I didn’t like this guy—driving his Porsche around like he owned the town. His father’s a surgeon…both have a god-complex if you ask me. Bails his son out of every kind of mishap to stay in med-school.”

Brandon looked at him, wondering how Nick got his information.

“I dated a girl in the dean’s office.” Nick gulped the coffee, not seemingly noticing the heat. “I found them together once…when I came home early from a canceled FTE. They were on the sofa…making out.”

Brandon’s concentration faltered for a moment nearly spilling the coffee he poured into Nick’s mug. “What…” he cleared his throat. “What did you do?”

“Dr. Mark…” Nick mocked. “He made all the right apologies, but his eyes told me different.” Nick turned away for a moment.

Embarrassed?

“He had his hands on her when I came in. She begged me not to hit him…it wouldn’t have taken anything for me to slice him with the blade of my Nightwing…but I didn’t. I wanted to, but what purpose would that have served?” Nick shook his head. “I didn’t know what else to do. I…I forbade her to see him again.” He turned back to look at Brandon. “I think she’s been sneaking around. I’m not here all the time, Brandon and I have to leave for Airborne school next month. I can’t keep watching over her like this.”

“No you can’t.” Brandon sat his mug on the counter and reached for the coffee maker to pull out the dirty filter. “I know it’s hard, Nick, but sometimes you have to let people follow their own paths.” He tossed the filter into the trash for lack of anything better to do. “So what will you do?”

“I don’t know.” Nick set the half-empty mug on the table. “Pray for her will ya? And for me. I need wisdom right now.”

Before the school year ended, Nick had made Brandon promise to keep an eye on Lyric until he finished his summer training. Brandon had agreed—however foolish that might have been. The summer remained, for the most part, uneventful. The last few weeks, Lyric had even started coming to church with her best friend, Casey Hanley. He felt reasonably sure that the romance between her and Mark had run its course.

That is, until this morning, when he found a wide-eyed Casey on his doorstep.

Chapter Two

Brandon held his hand up for silence. “It’s okay, I’m going to help you. Just tell me what’s happened.”

Casey reached for the box of tissues on the sofa table left over from his cold last week. “We don’t have time, Brandon. She said she had to see Mark…”

“She’s still seeing Mark!” He had not meant to sound so shocked.

Casey looked up, her brows pinched. “Yes.” She swallowed. “They’ve been dating for several months now.”

“Nick doesn’t know.” Brandon tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice.Casey’s face turned red. “I know, and I’m sorry. She swore me to secrecy until she could find a way to tell Nicklaus.”

“Somehow I don’t think that was going to happen,” Brandon muttered under his breath. “Anyway…continue.”

“Last night, Lyric came home really upset about something. Kept insisting Mark knew what he was doing. When I asked her what was Mark doing, she said she didn’t want to quit nursing school and Mark needed time to finish his residency before they got married.” Casey blew her nose. “I didn’t know what she was talking about until…” Casey took a deep breath. Brandon held his, bracing himself for what she seemed reluctant to speak. “…Until she told me …about…the baby.”

Brandon turned his head so Casey could not see the pain on his face. He closed his eyes, praying this was all just some mistake. “You didn’t come here to tell me this news. What has happened to make you ask for my help?”

“She’s getting rid of it.”

Brandon’s head whipped around, his eyes pinned on Casey. He felt a loud warning in the pit of his stomach just before he shot toward his room. He did not even bother to sort the clothes he threw on. Grabbing his keys and shoving on his flip-flops, he and Casey raced out the door and into his truck.

Chapter Three

He moved toward the door of number 9. Something felt queer.

The missing paint chips, the clandestine access to the rooms, the neon signage, it was not hard to figure out what kind of patrons the Happy Honeymoon Motel served. As the prickly sensation crept up his back, Brandon could feel something hovering around him. Or was it simply Casey’s trepidation prodding him from behind?

He prayed he would not find what he thought he might, in there. Dear God help. Brandon knocked on the door then listened. “Lyric?” He knocked again with no answer.

“This has to be the room.” Casey’s voice wavered and shook. “She said no.9 is where her and Mark...”

Brandon did not want to hear it. “I believe you.” Brandon twisted the knob, opening it just a crack. “Lyric?” Was that the radio? Pushing open the door, he stepped into the darkness.

In the time it takes a ranger to draw his gun, Brandon saw more tragedy than he ever wanted to witness in his life. At the foot of the bed lay a pile of bloodied rags. Bloodstained newspapers littered the floor. A half-naked girl lay balled up against the headboard, humming an indistinct tune.

“Oh my God!” Casey slapped her hand over her mouth and rushed back out the door, as if to keep the contents of her stomach from mixing with the gore in the room.

Casey would have to take care of herself. The girl on the bed required his immediate attention. He reached out to brush back the long chestnut hair to find a familiar face looking back at him.

“She’s dead.” Brandon wanted to turn away from the burned skin of a tiny infant in her mother’s arms. Lyric’s sobs filled the room before the agony of it reached down into the depths of him and tore mercilessly at his heart. He shook his head. He had to remain sober. Lyric needed him right now.

Brandon reached for one of the splotched towels and gently eased the infant from her mother’s shaking arms. Lyric tried to stop him but then clutched her stomach and let out a terrifying scream. She turned her head and vomited onto the bed covers.

Brandon needed help. “Casey!” No sign of her. “Casey, get in here now!” He wrapped the infant in the towel before reaching for the blanket to cover Lyric. “Casey!” Casey crept around the corner, her face as white as hominy. Sick covered her blouse. “Take this.” He handed her the little bundle with care. “Don’t look—just hold.”

Brandon lifted Lyric into his arms and rushed her to his truck. He motioned for Casey to get into the backseat as he buckled a groaning Lyric into the passenger side. The blanket defied him on more than one occasion before he secured her and leaned her seat back. He looked behind at Casey. “Give it to me.” Casey did not protest and laid the bundle into his hands. Brandon held it close, determined not to let her go again until he had to.

The noxious smell of blood and sick saturated Brandon’s truck. If he had not been an experienced hunter, familiar with the scent of blood and gore, he would be filling this truck with his own vomit right now.

Lyric continued to move in and out of consciousness, moaning in pain one minute and humming a lullaby the next. Jesus, what am I going to do? “Casey, when we stop, I want you to jump out and get an attendant with a wheelchair. Do you understand?”

Casey’s voice sounded strained with emotion. “Yes.”

Brandon pulled up to the emergency entrance and swung open his door. Lyric began moaning again as Casey jumped out from his side. “Hurry!” Brandon shifted the bundle to his left hand and placed his right on Lyrics forehead. She still felt cool to the touch. Good sign. “It’s going to be all right, Lyric. The doctor is going to help you.” She moaned in response. “Lyric?”

He heard the sobbing begin anew, then her raspy voice say, “I told him…I didn’t want to…I told him.”

Brandon’s heart clenched at her words. He grabbed a carved gun box and removed the stainless Colt from its midst. He tucked the gun into the glove compartment then carefully laid the precious bundle inside and closed the lid. He saw Casey coming with the attendant and gently slid the box under his seat. He did not want to take a chance on some callous doctor insisting it was only medical waste.

The attendant helped him get Lyric into the wheelchair then into Emergency. They passed several rooms with patients at varying levels of distress. One room had a child receiving stitches in his eyebrow while another had an elderly man hooked up to a bunch of nodes on his chest.

“Are you her husband?” A cross-looking nurse guided them into a curtained room.

Brandon turned to see the nurse staring at him. She repeated her question. “Uh…no.”

“Then you’ll have to step outside.” The nurse carried herself like a general.

Lyric grasped his hand just then. “No! Brandon, don’t leave me.”

The nurse eyed them both. “Uh, huh.” Brandon could only imagine what she was thinking with those angry eyes piercing him. “I’ll get the doctor and you…” she handed Brandon a clipboard. “…can fill these out.”

Brandon could hear the clicking of shoes on the hard floors. The moaning of another patient floated in. He took the paperwork and balanced it on his right knee, trying to fill out the questionnaire as accurately as possible with one hand. Lyric refused to let go.

The nurse returned several minutes later to collect the paperwork, eyeing him with cynicism. After a battery of questions about Lyrics condition, she left the room, sliding the privacy curtain in place with a tooth-edging screech.

Brandon looked over at the counter in the corner of the room. Someone had forgotten to turn the small sink off. He cringed as the dripping sound began pattering through his nervous system. Look at something else.

“Don’t tell Nicky, please Brandon?” The quiet question came from the small girl in the bed. Lyric took a shaky breath. “Do you hate me?”

Her whisper penetrated his frazzled brain. Brandon echoed the question through in his mind, trying to make sense of it. Hate her?

“Hello…Lyric, I’m Dr. Hicks.” Brandon turned to see a kindly eyed, very tall, blonde physician in the doorway. He looked more like a basketball player than an ER doc. The doctor flipped through the chart and came to stand just on the other side of the bed. “Let’s see what we have.” Dr. Hicks reached into the bed and slid out the stirrups. “I don’t see many of you boyfriends stick around for this part.”

Brandon realized the doctor was addressing him. “I’m…I’m not sir. I’m just a family friend.” Dr. Hicks cocked his head, and Brandon felt like he was being x-rayed.

“Let’s put your feet up here for me, okay Lyric?” Brandon turned his head away as far as Lyric’s hand allow before Dr. Hicks began his examination.

Lyric’s long nails bit into the back of his hand. Brandon kept his eyes fastened on her face, watching both pain and sorrow dance within her eyes. Her skin lay streaked in dried blood and tears. Who could have done this to such a precious young woman? Whoever it was ought to be shot. With that thought, Brandon felt better not having a loaded gun on him.

“Well, Lyric, everything looks just fine. The pain going away any better?” Lyric shook her head. “I’ll write a script for some Tylenol with codeine then. Do you remember what happened?”

“No,” said Lyric. Brandon looked over at the doctor. What did she mean, no? “But I…I know what happened.”

Dr. Hicks stood on the other side of the bed. “Do you remember who did this?” Lyric nodded. “Did this person force you into this?”

Lyric turned her head toward Brandon. Her eyes spilled over again.

Dr. Hicks nodded then motioned for Brandon to follow him. “Lyric, I need to speak to your friend and give him some instructions on how to care for you before he takes you home, is that okay?”

She released Brandon’s hand and rolled away from them.

Brandon followed the doctor into another room. Dr. Hicks shut the door. “I take it you were the one thrown into the middle of this.”

Brandon nodded.

“Any family around here?”

He shook his head. “Her brother is away at airborne school and her mother lives in Ohio.”

Dr. Hicks took a deep breath and blew it out. “Well, I’ve seen it before. Her story’s not unusual, especially in a college town. The sorry thing is, she’s going to need a whole lot of healing after this and I don’t mean her body—that will heal up all right. Post-abortion depression sets in anywhere from immediately to years down the road. The problem is there’s no way of knowing what it will do to her. You have a pastor?”

Brandon nodded. “Yes, sir, pretty good one.”

“Good, she’s going to need one. My wife and I will be praying for her. If she does need a woman to talk to…” Hicks handed him his card. “…my wife is a nurse. She has dealt with this situation many times. Give her a call, she’ll be happy to help.”

Brandon felt dazed. “Dr. Hicks, Why did she say she didn’t remember?”

Dr. Hicks rubbed the back of his arm across his brow. “He probably gave her Versed. It’s a drug we use to induce amnesia in a patient so they don’t remember the more painful and humiliating aspects of our work. The good news is she won’t remember much, the bad news? She’ll remember enough.”

It took a while for Brandon to settle all the paperwork before they released Lyric. Four weeks recovery, they said. What was he going to do with her now?

Chapter Four

Sunlight.

Then why did everything seem dark and cold?

Would she ever feel normal again?

What was normal?

There was a light knock on the door. “Lyric, dinner is ready.” She did not answer. She could hear his hand brush against the wood. “Okay, well, if you decide to eat, let me know, I’ll bring you a plate.” She heard his soft footsteps fade…again.

Her brother would be coming home soon. How was she supposed to tell him? She knew Brandon would not let her keep her secret for long. She thought of calling Mark...briefly, but then she returned to her senses and laid the receiver back down. She stretched out on the bed, tucked herself into a tight ball and faded back into the cool, unfeeling darkness.

* * *

A peal of hysterical sobbing rent the night air for the fifth time in three weeks. Brandon’s shoulder connected with the hard floor of the living room. He had fallen off the sofa in his attempt to roll out of bed. Jumping to his feet, he limped into the bedroom.

Brandon saw the shadow of Lyric, pacing the other side of the bed. Sleepwalking? In the next moment, she slammed into his chest, her grasping hands tugging at his tee shirt, twisting and pulling in desperation.

“I can’t find her! I can’t find my daughter! Help me!” Brandon pulled her into his arms. She struggled to get away. “No! You can’t make me!”

He reached for the switch on the wall, the sudden light causing both of them to squint against the pain. “Lyric, wake up.” He grasped both her arms and gently shook. “Wake up, now.” Brandon could feel his heart trying to find its rhythm.

Lyric closed her eyes, shaking her head against unseen things. She came to—staring for a moment at his face before recognition filled her eyes. Her voice broke into sobs. “I can’t stop it, Brandon. My dreams, they won’t leave me alone. Please make them go away.”

He pulled her into his arms again, knowing he would never be able to understand to what depth her pain pierced her, but he could guess…and in far too many ways, it tore at his own heart. “I know, Lyric, I know. Give it to Jesus, dear heart, give it to him.” He rocked her for several minutes, recalling every moment the past three weeks when he had done this very thing. She was not getting any better. “Lord, help her…help her,” he whispered into her hair.

Lyric began to quiet. She sniffed. “You would pray for me…after what I did?”

Brandon held her away from him. “It’s not about what you did, Lyric. It’s about what He did.”

“Mark?”

“No, Lyric, Jesus, he can help y....” Lyric pushed away, staring at him as if he had transformed into something unnatural. She moved into the living room.

Her mood swings kept blindsiding him at every turn. He felt as if the floodwaters of emotion were sweeping past him, and all he could do was hold on with both fists until they subsided. “You okay?” He followed her as she continued into the kitchen. “Making coffee?” She nodded. “You hungry, I could make breakfast.”

“No thank you.” Lyric shook her head, grabbing the sack of coffee and placing the grounds into the filter. “You’re not a very good cook.” She filled the carafe with water and poured it into the coffeemaker. She wiped her face on her pajama sleeve and sniffed. “I’ll take care of breakfast if you give me something to fix.” She lifted the skillet from the pot hanger above their heads and took a spatula from the drawer.

Brandon kept trying to make sense of her erratic actions. “What would you like to fix?”

Lyric slammed the skillet onto the burner and waved the long metal spatula in the air. “I don’t care, Brandon just give me something!” She turned away for a moment before her body began to shake again. The tears filled her voice as she spoke. “If you don’t want me to cook for you, just say so.”

Brandon inched his hand down her forearm and removed the spatula from her grasp. “It’s all right, Lyric. You can cook anytime you want but let’s just sit down for a bit okay?”

She allowed him to lead her out of the kitchen, then she push away from him. “I don’t want to go back to sleep. They’re just waiting for me there.”

Brandon turned her toward him. He handed her a box of tissues. “Who?”

“My nightmares.” She took a tissue and sat on the sofa.

He had learned to keep a box in every room after that first day. Casey kept them well stocked. In fact, Casey had proved to be a valuable resource, running all the errands he needed. Unfortunately, she could not bring herself to come inside just yet. He would not worry about that right now, but he would pray about it.

“Do you know who did this to you, Lyric?”

She turned away from him and nodded.

“Was it more than one person?”

Lyric shrugged.

“Okay. Do you want to talk to me about it?”

She shrugged again, gathered her feet up and hugged a throw pillow, looking lost.

Oh, Lord, who am I to be the one? How am I supposed to help her? Brandon did not need to hear words to understand the nudging in his spirit.

If I be lifted up, I will draw…

“Lyric, the Lord can help you, but you have to let Him.”

Lyric did not move or even acknowledge that she heard him.

“Lyric, you can’t keep on this way. There comes a time when you’ll have to open up.” He exhaled. “I’m trying to help you.”

Lyric turned to look at him. “I need my baby back, that’s what will help me.”

“I know.”

“No you don’t know Brandon, you don’t know. I want my baby!” She slammed her fists into her lap before coming to her feet. “You don’t know what it’s like…you don’t know.”

Brandon stood there watching her. What else could he do?

“You’re always talking about Jesus! Jesus loves you…give it to Jesus…Jesus, Lord, Father, God!”

Brandon stared at her—helpless.

“If Jesus loved me or my baby he would have saved us both!” Lyric shoved her finger through the air at him, sparks flying from her eyes. “He let my father die when I needed him, he let Mark hurt me and he let my baby die! Some God!” Lyric turned to leave. “I hope you and your benevolent God have a nice life!” Brandon grabbed her shoulder, wanting to make her see she was wrong.

Lyric broke way, ran into the bedroom and slammed the door.

Brandon collapsed onto the sofa, rested his elbows onto his knees, and placed his head into his shaking hands. Three weeks of this and there was no end in sight.

Jesus…Oh Lord…God my Father, help me—help her!

Did she not understand that the only way she would heal is by letting the Lord help her? “Help us, Lord.”

Brandon heard the shower running in her room. He took a deep breath, thinking she might have found a way to relax until he heard her muffled sobbing. “God,” he whispered. “She is tearing herself apart and me with her. There has got to be some relief.” I know she needs time…I know, but what am I suppose to do? Lord, why did you choose me?

Lyric needs a woman’s help. Brandon looked up. Why had he not thought of that earlier?

Chapter Five

“Stop calling me ma’am. Just call me Julie.” He could hear Julie shifting in her chair. “This girl is probably suffering from nightmares right about now and bursting out in anger one moment and tears the next, am I right?”

“Pretty right, ma…uh…Julie.”

“And what are you doing about it?”

Brandon had to think for a moment. He had been changing a lot of his shirts lately and running through a lot of boxes of tissues because Lyric spent most of her time crying…He had also been holding her and talking soothingly to her and praying for her.

“Good, that’s what you need to keep doing. Just be there for her and let her vent. She’s got a heap of guilt on her right now and only prayer and love is going to see her through.” Julie paused. “You’re in love with this girl—I can hear it in your voice.”

Brandon felt broadsided again. It was not a question. Julie certainly had a way of calling things as she saw them. “Yes.” Brandon had not even allowed himself to consider his feelings for Lyric let alone admit them to a perfect stranger.

“You’d better keep that one to yourself. If you’re not careful, she’ll start relying and seeing you as her savior instead of who she really needs…you understand me?”

Brandon had not considered that before. Not that he was going off declaring his love either. “I understand.”

“Son, with God all things are possible. If God be for you, who then can be against you. You can do this, Brandon, with His help. Now, I have to get breakfast for Dr. Hicks, he’s pulling an all-nighter at the ER, but let me tell you this,” Julie’s voice dipped softly. “You both will have to remember who the real enemy is here. It’s not her and it’s not you, it’s not even the abortion doctor…it’s the Devil, and he’s going to be piling a heap of guilt all over her, and you best be ready to fight it. Guilt, shame and rage are his best weapons because it drives people to do things they would have never considered before. You need to be prayed up and filled up to fight those lies she’s been swallowing. You up for it?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I know you are, ‘cause the Lord is your light…he’s your fortress, a mighty help in times of trouble. You can do this. I’m gonna pray for you now.” Brandon could hear the shift once again in Julie’s voice. “Lord, I give this young woman to you and ask that your mercy would be upon her and evident to her in these next days. Do a miracle, Father. Give this young man the strength and wisdom to follow you in all this. Bless them both and bring them into your kingdom. In the name that is above all names—including abortion…Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior…Amen.”

Julie had invited him to contact her again and Brandon promised to keep in touch. He took a deep breath and felt his spirit take strength. How amazing that God would send an oasis like Julie in this desert land of Lyric’s turmoil.

Julie had certainly hit a soft spot in Brandon. He could not deny his feelings for Lyric, but neither could he confess them. Lyric needed to look into the eyes of Jesus, but right now, she could not bear it. So then, he would allow Jesus to shine through him, until she could. When that day came, if it did, they could move forward. Until then, he would love her like a brother and show Christ in every way possible.

Brandon knew the Lord was in control of their lives. He also knew he would equip them both for what lay ahead. He was going to need all the help he could get…Nick returned tomorrow and he did not know about Lyric.

Chapter Six

She groaned.

After her shower yesterday, Brandon had left her to sleep the entire day away. “Oh, stupid sun, leave me alone.” She waved her arm as if to move the beam from shinning on her face. She released a drowsy, frustrated breath. “Time to face the day…or at least Brandon.”

Brandon had the radio on low, listening to his Christian station when she came around the corner of the kitchen. Dr. Dobson or whoever he was, kept yakking about some horse ranch that helped abused kids or something like that.

“Hey.” Brandon smiled then reached up to click off the radio. “You’re up.” His eyes lingered on her for a moment.

She liked the way he looked at her. As if he saw her as someone other than a monster, someone beautiful maybe. If only she could see herself the way Brandon did. Don’t stop looking at me like that Brandon.

He cleared his throat and went back to his cooking. “You want something to eat?”She shrugged. “I think so.”

“Good, because you are in for a real treat…French toast.” Brandon tilted the pan so she could see its contents. “Looks good huh?”

That explained the burnt egg smell, but not the mangled donut in the pan. In a bowl next to the stove sat a watery, batter. Just what she thought. “Brandon, you have too much milk in this batter, it makes the bread soggy and tear apart.” She took the bowl and poured out half of the contents, then cracked in four eggs before whipping in the cinnamon and nutmeg. Brandon backed away from the stove as she took his mangled slices and tossed them into the trash.

“Hey, I was going to eat that.”

Lyric looked up ready to defend her actions when she saw the brilliant smile on his face. “Watch a real cook in action.” She reached for the knob to turn down the heat.

Sometime later, Brandon took his first bite and smiled. She could get use to this. Cooking for Brandon and having him beam across the table at her every morning. For the most glorious moment, the world was not breathing down her neck. Breakfast felt more like a picnic in the meadow than a few pieces of toast in the kitchen and the sun actually beamed through the window instead of blared. Why had she never noticed how his hazel eyes twinkled when he smiled? His occasional sounds of palatal delights brought more than a grin to her face.

Brandon’s hand lay stretched out on the table. His long fingers looked as if they could wrap around her heart and never let go. There, on his third finger, she imagined her ring encircling it—laying claim on him for all to see. Brandon stood for everything safe and good…her savior.

Brandon downed the last of his milk then wiped his mouth on the napkin. “I go back to work on Monday.”

Lyric felt herself cruelly yanked from her dream world and slammed right down in the middle of reality. She had not been prepared to hear those words. “Wha…what do you mean? I mean, what am I going to do without you?”

Brandon swept his plate aside and clasped both hands in front of him. “You’ve got to get back into life, Lyric. You can’t keep hiding here away from the world.”

Lyric could feel herself shudder at the thought of going back to work at the hospital. Mark would be there and so would their friends. His friends, she amended. “I don’t know what to do? I can’t face Mark again.”

“Lyric, listen. What Mark did to you was wrong and there will be a day of reckoning, but you can’t go around shying from people like him.” Brandon sighed. “I know it’s going to be hard to face him again, but you need to. The Lord can help you…but you have to let Him.”

Brandon stood to clear away the dirty dishes.

“Why do you always have to say things like that?” Lyric followed him into the kitchen, feeling the panic rise. “Why do I have to go back? Why can’t I stay here with you?”

Brandon placed the dishes into the sink and leaned back against the counter. She could see by the look in his eyes that he did not want her to leave. “And what kind of life would that be for you, to give up on your dreams?”

“What do you mean, give up on my dreams?” Lyric moved closer. “I have a new dream.”

“What about your dream to become a nurse?”

Lyric scoffed. “Do you think that’s the only dream I have?”

Brandon shook his head. A lock of dark brown hair moved past his forehead before he raked it back with his hand “No, but it’s the right one at this time.”

Lyric took another step closer, wanting the advantage to plead with him at close range. “What about my dream to become a mother? Is that not a noble dream as well?”

“Of course, but for everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven.”

“Why do you always do that?” Lyric turned her head away from him.

“Do what?”

“Why do you always quote scripture when I’m trying to have a serious conversation? Are you trying to avoid something?”

Brandon shifted. “I didn’t know I was avoiding anything.”

Lyric folded her arms over her chest. “You avoid a lot. You avoid your feelings for me, you avoid holding me the way I know you want to, you avoid giving me the very thing that will make me whole again!”

“I’m not avoiding anything Lyric, I’m trying to help you.” Brandon pushed away from the counter and stood.

Her arms flung to her side. “I need my baby back, that’s what will help me.”

“I know.”

“No you don’t know Brandon!” She balled her fists. “I need my baby!”

Brandon stood there watching her. Growing more rigid the closer she got. “You said you would help me, remember?”

She could see the frustration building on his face as well. “I’m trying to help you!”

“But not the way I need you to.”

She needed to know for sure what she suspected already. “I know you love me. I can see it in your eyes.” Lyric wound her fingers into his shirt, allowing her eyes to captivate him. “Admit it.” She pulled his cheek against her forehead. “Love me, Brandon, please love me.” She pressed herself against him, making her meaning clear. It was now or never. “I would be a good mother.”

Brandon shot back away from her. “No!” Not what she expected. “Listen to me, Lyric, listen! I’m not going to sleep with you. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Then why don’t you marry me! I could be a good wife, take care of you, cook and clean your house. You’re the only one who can help me…why won’t you…”

Brandon gripped her arms hard. “I am not your God!”

Silence fell between them.

The slow realization of truth began to wash over Lyric. She could see the torment in his eyes over her persistence. It made her feel ashamed at who she had become. What happened to the good little girl that Nicklaus used to cherish and adore? She must be gone now.

Lyric ignored the sound from the living room.

“You don’t want me…I am ruined…Mark already took from me what I cannot give again.” Tears quickly welled up.

Brandon tilted his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. “You don’t even understand.” His head snapped toward the kitchen door. Someone had come into the house.

A voice shouted from the living room. “Hey, Bran, you making French toast?

Lyric backed away from Brandon and wiped her eyes on her sleeve before Nick walked through the doorway of the kitchen, his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. The smile on his face faltered when he saw her standing there.

“Hey Nick.” Brandon moved to give her brother a bear hug before he glanced back at her.

Lyric tried to tell him with her eyes what she could not speak. Please don’t tell Nicky. Please. Brandon’s eyes softened but his jaw set. She could not be sure what thoughts waged war within his mind. She willed him to look at her again as Nick tossed his A-bag aside and reached to hug her.

“Hey, sis. I didn’t know you were here.” Nick backed away taking hold of her right hand. “You look a bit thin. Work mistreating you?” He searched her face. “Have you been crying?”

Lyric gave a nervous chuckle, and pulled away trying to avert his eyes. She looked over at Brandon for help. Please, Brandon, don’t tell Nicky.

She could hear the apprehension in Brandon’s voice as well. “Nick, you want some French toast?” Brandon shoved a mug of hot coffee in his hand and steered him toward the table. “You’ve got to tell us about Airborne school.”

Nick looked up. “Not much to tell. I went, I saw, I jumped. So, what’s Lyric doing here with you?”

She knew Brandon would not lie. She went to the microwave to warm the stack of French toast as quickly as possible, hoping it would divert Nick’s attention. Please Brandon oh please. Oh, God, don’t let him say anything.

Silence lingered before Nick broke in. “Is anyone going to talk to me?”

“Here you go, Nicky. A full stack with melted butter, just like you like them.”

Nick took the offered food and set it on the table, his eyes kept darting back and forth between them. Could he see it in her eyes? “Here’s the syrup, I heated it for you.” Lyric tripped over her own feet spilling the maple syrup all over Nick’s uniform. He jumped back to keep it from dousing him further. “Oh, my. I’m sorry Nicky, I didn’t mean to.”

Nick held up his hand. “It’s all right. I’ll just go wash it off.”

“No!...um I’ll wash it for you, hand it to me.”

Nick stood for a second looking at her before he removed his jacket and handed it over. Lyric silently pleaded with Brandon as she walked by, knowing one word from him, and her life would change forever.

The Atonement Child By Francine Rivers / Tyndale House In one horrific moment, Dynah Carey's perfect world is shattered. A few weeks following the attack, she faces an agonizing decision that pushes her faith to its limits and threatens to tear her family apart. Will she choose to end the untimely life within her, or embrace it? Her decision will change more lives than she could ever imagine! 376 pages, softcover from Tyndale.

Chapter Seven

“I just saw fresh tears in my sister’s eyes. Why is she acting like this?” Brandon could feel the silent question between them before Nick finally spoke. “You and Lyric…you’re not…”

Brandon stared into Nick’s eyes as deeply as he could. “I am not sleeping with Lyric.”

Nick’s whole countenance seemed to deflate as he exhaled in relief. “I wouldn’t have believed you anyway, even if you’d confessed it.” He sat at the table. “You want to tell me what’s wrong then? Is she okay?”

Brandon did not open his mouth. He needed to give Lyric time. She should have the right to tell her brother.

“Why do I get the feeling that Dr. Mark is involved in this somehow?”

“Lyric is staying with me for a short time, for reasons I’m sure she would rather discuss with you privately.”

Nick rose from his chair. “Then get her in here and let’s discuss them.”

Before Nick could follow her into the bathroom, Brandon shoved his hand against his chest. “Don’t.”

“Don’t?” Nick’s jaw set. “What are you hiding?”

“Nothing that will be solved by the telling—trust me on this.” Brandon stood firm as Nick began to push against his resistance.

Nick’s brows furrowed. “You expect me to wait to hear what you are so reluctant to tell me about my own sister?”

Brandon took hold of his arms as Nick struggled to move past him. He knew he had to get a handle on this quick. “I’m asking you to trust me to do what is right by your sister. Let me have some time with her this afternoon and when you come back this evening. I promise you that all will be revealed then.”

Nick relaxed for a moment. His eyes met Brandon’s. “She’s not okay.”

Brandon frowned then took a breath. “Not yet, Nick, but if she’ll let the Lord help, she will be.” Brandon released his friend. “Spend the afternoon in prayer, Let the Lord be your guide. Then come back this evening. It’s the best way Nick…for her and for you.”

Nick nodded, exhaling. “I’ll trust you…but…Oh Brand, that’s my sister in there and she acting as if she’s afraid of me. Me!”

“Nick, you’re going to have to go get prayed up. She’s going to need your love and understanding to make it through this time…she’s scared.”

Nick closed his eyes for a moment. “She’s still seeing Mark isn’t she?”

Brandon cringed inwardly at Nick’s serious understatement. “We’ll talk about all this, this afternoon. Now please don’t ask me anymore questions, she has the right to tell you the truth…that right does not belong to me.”

Nick nodded again, eyes filling with a remorse he did not yet understand. He backed away then moved toward the front door. “I’ll be back around 5:00. I’ll give you ‘til then.” Nick walked out the door as if he had lost a battle.

A battle perhaps, but not the war, in Jesus name.

Now he had to get ready. What he had to do next…he did not like to think about it.

Brandon stood in the doorway of the bathroom, watching Lyric scrub an unseen stain from Nick’s jacket. “You don’t have to do that.” Brandon took the jacket from her hands and tossed it onto the sink counter. “Why don’t you let me finish cleaning up and you can go get dressed. I have someplace I need to take you today.”

Lyric shook her head. “I don’t want to go out. I don’t want to see anybody today.”

She probably meant, Mark.

“Nick’s gone. It’s safe to come out.” Her eyes darted to his face. “I didn’t tell him anything.” Lyric grabbed a towel to dry her hands. “You are going to have to tell him, Lyric.”

She looked at him, startled, still wiping her already dried hands. “I..I don’t know...”

Brandon eased the towel from her grasp. “He needs to know, Lyric. Have faith that this will work out.”

Lyric spread her fingers and punched them in and out of each other, locking and unlocking them in a nervous tick. “What if he hates me?” She grimaced. “What if…”

“That’s not going to happen.” Are you trying to convince her or yourself? Brandon knew, if this backfired, she might never come to Jesus and he could lose her. That was something he could not afford to consider. “I thought you were going to get changed.”

Lyric moved to leave then hesitated, looking back at him, searching his eyes for something, then turned out the door. Brandon could feel the tension mounting in his own body. What if’s kept parading through his brain too. What if this throws her over the edge...what if this sends her into self-destruction…what if Nick does rejects her…what if this drives her completely away from God…what if he loses her?

Brandon ran outside to his truck, needing somewhere to release his heart.

He closed the door and yelled. “God help me!” He held back the tears, knowing he needed to face her soon. “I don’t know what to do.” Brandon bowed his head over his steering wheel. “Oh, God, help her. I don’t know what else to do. Don’t let this be a mistake. Help Nicklaus to hear your voice. Help Lyric to forgive…help her open up to you. Help her, Lord.”

Bandon’s hands rubbed up and down the leather wheel cover feeling the rippled cowhide. “You said you would never leave us or forsake us…I’m counting on that.” He looked toward the house. “I know it must be done. Help her.”

Brandon opened the truck door.

Lord, please don’t let me lose her. Nevertheless, not my will…

Chapter Eight

Lyric trudged into her bedroom and quickly changed into her jeans and a long t-shirt. I threw myself at Brandon! Oh, the look in his eyes. Oh God, Nicky. What is Nicky going to think, what will he do? How much more can I take? You’re suppose to help people through this stuff. Lyric shook her fist toward the ceiling. Why don’t you help me then! Lyric inclined her ear…waiting.

You’re like the rest of them. Except they talk to me, even if it’s only to say things like, “You okay? Are you feeling alright, Lyric, are you okay, Lyric…blah blah blah.” Was he ever going to have a real conversation with her besides his Jesus one’s? She knew he had feelings for her, but he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to share them.

It felt chilly this morning so she grabbed her denim jacket. Sneakers and socks finished her ensemble before she made her way back into the kitchen.

Brandon was not there.

She moved down the small hall to his room and found it empty as well. Brandon’s bed looked a bit ruffled, like he had laid in it after he made it. A book lay open on the brown coverlet. A field journal? She moved closer and saw sketches on the paper. Lyric flipped through it. One sketch looked like her laughing. “Hmm.” Dated August 21st. Just after I came to Truman.

Lyric flipped through page after page, finding more pictures of her in various activities: cooking, jogging, laughing…crying. And Mark staring out of the picture at her. She never noticed the haughty look in his eyes before, but Brandon had captured it perfectly. Why hadn’t she noticed? Lyric flipped through another and landed on one drawn the day Brandon had found her in the motel. There on the page, lay a perfectly formed infant curled in the arms of a bearded man in a robe. Both the child and the man seemed to be smiling.

Lyric slammed the book shut, then whirled around to see Brandon standing there.

“I had not intended for you to see that yet.” Brandon’s broad shoulders filled the doorway. “I was going to wait for a better time.”

“I…I’m in here.”

Brandon turned his head, seemingly distracted by the chipped paint on his doorframe. “You’re in my prayers a lot.” He walked toward her taking the book from her hands. “I do not have a way with words. I draw what I need to pray about. I think better that way.” He wound the long leather strap around the journal.

“So why am I in there so much?”

Brandon shrugged. “Nick’s always asking me to pray for you.”

Lyric searched his eyes. She knew he was telling the truth just not the whole truth and it warmed her.

“Come on.” Brandon swept his arm behind him. “Let’s not sit here talking all day about prayer journals. There’s someplace we need to go.” She nodded and followed him out the door.

Lyric was not sure where they were going until they turned down the road leading toward the lake. When he parked his truck at the ranger station, she felt the uncertainty begin to flood in. “Why are we coming here?”

I need to park my truck. We can’t take it on the trail.”

“What trail?”

“Wait and see.”

Chapter Nine

There’s no other way.

“Understand…what I do…I do in love.” Brandon shushed her before she could speak. “Just listen.” She closed her mouth. “I cannot give you what you need, Lyric. I…I can’t bring you the healing that your soul longs for.”

She frowned. “Brandon, it wouldn’t be wrong if we were together.”

Brandon did not want her to speak. Why did she have to remind him how simple this all could be? Because short cuts are circles in disguise that’s why. And if you take this short cut now, she will always look to you for her salvation instead of the Lord…is that what you want? “No.”

“No?”

“Lyric, I…” Tell her. “I love you.” He could see the smile light her entire face. “I won’t deny it, but this is not the time…it’s not our time.” She cocked her head at him. Brandon released her hand for a moment before sweeping the needles in front of them aside. He watched her take in the patch of disturbed earth. He could tell she did not understand.

“Casey sat with you while you slept off the codeine that first day. I came here. I dug a deep hole and placed the box inside the earth. I…I took it upon myself to carve her name into the box. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind? Carved whose name?”

Then understanding dawned and she recoiled. “My child?”

Brandon nodded.

Lyric looked as if she might be sick. “What are you telling me Brandon? That you brought me here to rub my face in what I have done because I am unworthy to be loved by you?” Lyric got to her feet. Brandon’s hand stayed her. She turned her face away.

“Wait. I didn’t bring you here to shame you. I brought you here to help you face this. Nick isn’t going to let this rest; he needs to hear the truth from you.”

Lyric’s head snapped back around as she shook free of his grasp . “Why, so I can see his face when I tell him his little sister has become everything he hates! A liar, a deceiver…a ruined woman!”

Brandon stood, trying not to tower above her. “Nick is not going to hate you. He will be hurt and angry, that’s normal and there is nothing either of us can do about that, but he will not hate you, and he certainly will not abandon you.” Lyric gave him her shoulder, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Lyric you have to face him. You have to tell him or…”

Lyric whirled around, her hair flying in a perfect circle about her head. “Or what! You’ll tell him!” Lyric’s eyes grew wider. “You wouldn’t.”

Brandon remained silent.

She balled her hands into tight fists then shoved them down to her sides. “I’ll hate you if you do.” Her face contorted. “I’ll hate you!”

Brandon continued to look at her, resolved. Ignoring the pain of her words.

“I thought you loved me.” Her faced softened for a moment. “You said you loved me.”

Brandon opened his mouth to speak, and then hesitated. What was it going to take to get through to her? Did Lyric suppose he would give in? “Don’t play games with me, Lyric.”

Her face hardened.

Love believes all things, hopes all things…endures all things.

Brandon stared into Lyric’s eyes, hoping she would see how deeply he meant every word. “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy…it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs…It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

An angry crease appeared in Lyric’s brow. “It’s your stupid scriptures all the time! All the time! You avoid everything by hiding behind that book. You’re the one having the real problems here. You can’t just admit that you don’t want someone like me! I’m just not pure enough for you!”

Brandon clenched his jaw, feeling the sting of her words. “It means that love, as you see it…as Mark showed it, is not love at all…but a selfish, sensual, grasping emotion used to get what you want.” Brandon took her upper arm. “It means that what I do for you is motivated by something other than pity or selfish gain.” He released her and turned to leave.

He could hear Lyric when she finally took up her pursuit of him, her small feet crunching through the needles, sounding like a train gaining steam. “Don’t you dare walk away from me! Don’t you dare!”

Brandon stopped and turned to face her, trying to hold back, both his guilt for failing her and his anger at her stubbornness to see. “If you won’t talk to Nick, then the only thing I have left to say today will be addressed to your brother.” He held is finger up. “Not one more word.”

They rode back home in silence. Brandon could feel the fear and anger radiating from her side of the cab. All he could do was watch her out of the corner of his eye, sitting there with her arms locked across her chest, working her lip between her teeth…and pray.

Had he been wrong for bringing her there today? No matter what plans he had considered, none seemed to feel right like bringing her to the pines had. Lord if I was wrong for doing this please let me know, I’ll repent to both Nick and Lyric. Please don’t let Lyric be harmed by my stupidity. Help her.

Brandon would have been hard-pressed to put words to how he truly felt. He had just begun to calm his anger and emotions when he saw Nick’s car parked across the street from his house…two hours early.

Chapter Ten

Lyric stood there frozen just inside the door, staring at Nick waiting on the sofa. Just one look at Nick’s face told Brandon everything he wanted to know about how he spent his afternoon.

Completely fuming.

How comical this might have been under different circumstances. Nick sat with his arms folded across his chest and his teeth working against his bottom lip. Wow, the resemblance between the two siblings could be astonishing at times.

“You got something to tell me?” Nick looked positively deadly dressed in his muscle shirt and ACU pants. It was not hard to be intimidated by the angry flexing biceps sitting across his chest. His eyes stayed locked on Lyric as he came to his feet.

Brandon sought to head him off. “Nick, this is not the way…”

“When were you going to tell me?” Nick scowled, ignoring Brandon, moving ever closer to Lyric.

“I…I…” Lyric’s mouth worked on her reply, stuttering. Her eyes wide, pooling with unshed tears.

Brandon knew this could soon get out of hand. “Nick, you need to just stop!”Nick met his eyes, acknowledging him for the first time. “I heard it all—everything! The ball court…rife with rumors…how could I not?”

Lyric let out a yell when Nick grabbed for her arm. She jumped back as Brandon threw himself into Nick’s chest. Brandon heard her bedroom door slam behind him and the lock clicking into place. “What the devil is the matter with you!”

“I’m not going to hurt her—I just want the truth!” Nick tried to move past him, but Brandon stood his ground. “I’ve never touched her a day in her life and I’m not going to start now…you on the other hand…if you don’t get out of my way.”

Brandon had never seen this look in Nick’s eyes before…it was not rage…it was a wounded anger. “I know you won’t hurt her.” Brandon kept his voice as calm and even as he could. “But she doesn’t know that.”

Nick stared at him, unmoving. “I want to know if the rumors are true.”

Brandon watched him for a moment, deciding. “Her and Mark were still seeing each other…and she was pregnant.”

“I knew it!” Brandon watched Nick’s countenance crumble from an angry man into that of a hurt child. “I told her to stay away from him…that he’s no good, I don’t care if he is a doctor—he’s trash!” Nick wiped his arm across his eyes, the tears still falling. He took a deep breath. “I’ll…I’ll help her take care of the child. I get my commission at the end of the semester. I can take her away from here.”

Brandon felt the weight of realization crush his heart. Nick didn’t know. “Nicklaus, Mark…”

“I know…he abandoned her. I knew he would.” Nick just stood there, his eyes now glued to Lyric’s door.

Brandon filled his lungs, preparing himself for what he had to say next. “Nick, you need to sit down.”

Nick pushed away. “I told you, I’m not going to hurt her.”

“Nick.”

Nick grabbed his jacket and began to put it on. “Didn’t I tell you, I would take care of her and her baby? I know it’s going to be hard, but it’s not like Lyric is the only girl in the world this ever happened to. We’ll get through it.”

“Nick.”

“I just don’t know how we’re going to tell mom.”

“Nicklaus, for pity sakes listen to me!”

“What!”

God help him. “Lyric had an abortion.”

*

Lyric felt Brandon’s words tear through her. Nicky’s reply, followed suit severing the last bit of hope she still held onto. “Oh dear God, Lyric, what have you done?”

Brandon’s calm voice, penetrated though the door once again. “Nick, I need to tell you the whole story.”

Lyric could not wait a moment longer. She could not face hearing her sins poured out before Nick. He would hate her now, and she deserved it.

Lyric snaked out the window, knocking over a lamp.

“Lyric, are you okay?” Brandon shouted from the other side of the locked door. She knew she had to get out of there and fast.

Down the street she ran to hitch a ride with the first car that stopped. The driver seemed bent on chatter, but Lyric’s clip answers soon had him silent. It seemed only seconds passed before she found the path she and Brandon had taken earlier. She carefully reached into her pocket to make sure she had not lost the blades she had taken from Brandon’s bathroom.

Would dying hurt?

She wanted it to be painful. It had been painful for her child hadn’t it? She needed the pain to wash her of her guilt. Assuage her of her sins. She did not deserve anyone’s love she knew that now. Mark had betrayed her, Nicklaus had abandoned her and Brandon pitied her…but no more.

Lyric made her way to the pines, knowing it was the only fitting place to end it all. Would it not be right for her blood to spill on the grave of her child? Would God allow her daughter to see the payment of Lyric’s blood upon her grave?

Lyric took the utility knife blades from her pocket and stared at the flashing, crisp edge.

Chapter Eleven

“What makes you think she’s…”

Brandon threw himself behind the wheel of his truck. “No time to explain…I’ll be at the pines!”

Brandon tore down the path, not daring to stop until he reached the edge of the clearing. Lyric sat doubled over her daughter’s grave rocking herself…sobbing.

He moved behind her, knowing she heard his every step.

The knife blades lay in the dirt in front of her, no sign of blood. Brandon felt some measure of relief wash over him.

The loud sobs tearing from Lyrics chest sounded like the dirge of body and soul being rent from one another. A raw chorus of mournful tones that seemed to burn their way into Brandon’s heart and demand that he answer their call.

Lyric crumpled forward onto the small mound, pounding her fists against the dirt. “I can’t live like this anymore, Brandon. I can’t face what I’ve done any longer. I’ve killed my daughter, I deserve to die.”

He knelt beside her and pulled her back against his chest. “This is not the way. This will not bring Grace back.” Brandon folded his arms around her. “Lyric… listen to me, dear heart. You’re daughter would not want this. She would not want to see her mother die in vain.”

“Why are you doing this!”

“Because I can’t help you any longer. I can’t help you Lyric.”

Lyric spoke through her broken sobs. “Why are you saying these things to me, is it not enough that I want to die?” Lyric’s sobs intensified.

“Do you think you are the only woman to have made these kinds of mistakes?

“There is nothing left for me but death! I am ruined.”

“So everything you did is so powerful and all consuming in your life…is that what you are telling me?” Brandon could feel an anger inside of him that threatened to devour something. And he knew what…the lies she insisted on believing!

“I slept with Mark. I am ruined. I have killed an innocent life. I am want and failure and death and hate!”

Brandon pushed her away from him and turned her around, gripping her arms. “Stop it! You will cease to speak those lies! Do you hear me Lyric!”

Lyric’s mouth clamped shut.

“So…you are going to sit there over your precious daughter’s grave and tell me that what you did to her can never be forgiven. Your sin is so much stronger than God’s forgiveness?” Brandon wanted to set fire to all the lies that had been consuming her for the last weeks. “So people like Rahab the harlot, Saul the persecutor of Christians, all of them could be forgiven but not you.”

Several times, Lyric’s lips worked as if to speak…until finally, her mouth closed on any reply, her eyes watching him with an intensity he had never seen.

“You’re telling me that what Christ did on the cross wasn’t strong enough.” Brandon rose on one knee. “His blood just wasn’t enough to cleanse your sins.”

She wiped her face and finally, rose to her feet. She turned away from him for a moment before she quietly spoke. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t be rid of this. Nothing I do will free me of what I’ve done.”

Brandon knew he had to tell her the truth. “You’re right, nothing you can do will free you of this…But He can do it.

For the longest time, all Brandon could hear was the sporadic birdsong and his own angry breathing as he sat staring at Lyric.

“As far as the east is from the west, So far has He removed our transgressions from us. He has not punished us for all our sins, nor does He deal with us as we deserve.” Brandon came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “He’s waiting for you, Lyric.”

“How Brandon? How is it possible that he can clean me…even if he forgives me?”

Did he have her attention? Oh, Lord…now? Brandon took a deep breath. “Lyric, however you’ve failed or whatever you did or did not do…every crime you’ve committed, every sin that weighs you down, every voice that tells you that you can never be different, or change or be forgiven…understand that there is no truth to them if you give it to Jesus. These lies seek only to keep you prisoner, to keep you from knowing the truth. He is waiting with open arms to forgive you and cleanse you of everything…if you let Him. He will free you.”

“Why?”

Brandon took a deep breath, calming. “Because he’s God,” he said simply.

“That doesn’t mean you won’t remember what you’ve done or that you won’t still feel accused or feel the pain of it for awhile. But it does mean, those feelings have no more power over you. The Lord is waiting to forgive you and set you free from their grip. Give it to Him. Give it to Him, Lyric, He’s faithful, He’s waiting. He loves you.”

It felt as though Lyric might crumple to the ground, if he were not holding her. “Give it to Him, Lyric,” he whispered into her hair. “Give it to Him. ”

Several minutes passed as Brandon held her shaking body. How many more minutes passed before she quieted…he could not tell, but he felt certain that this had been the right thing, regardless of the mess they seemed to be in.

Brandon heard Lyric’s cracked whisper. “Oh Brandon, I’ve made such a mess of my life. If God would help me…I would give it to Him.”

“Can I pray for you? I won’t unless you say I can.”

Lyric slowly nodded.

Brandon bowed close to her ear. “Father, you are good. Your love is better than life. I know you want to help and love Lyric more than I can comprehend or she can understand. You are God, that’s who you are. Now I pray, Lord that you would help this precious woman. Help Lyric to trust you and give herself over to you and the plan you have for her life. Help Nicklaus in this time as well. He needs your wisdom for these next days ahead. Let him hear your voice and to listen in love. Be Lyric’s help as she and Nicklaus learn to forgive one another. Give her words to speak and help Nicklaus to have ears to hear. I trust you, Lord, in your name I pray… Amen.” Brandon released Lyric, still holding her hand. “The road will be hard, Lyric, but it is going to be all right.”

Lyric pushed away from him and for a moment, he thought she was pushing away from God, until he saw her kneel over the tiny grave and whisper her words of confession. “I…I’m so sorry Grace. Forgive me…forgive me.” She lowered herself further. “I don’t know how to do this, but God, will you help me?”

Brandon waited, praying for the now broken woman on the ground. He would not move. Not touch this holy moment between Lyric and her Savior. He felt like Moses at the burning bush. He wanted to tear the shoes off his feet and fall before the Lord, knowing He was there, comforting…healing.

Brandon looked at his watch. She had been there for over an hour now, kneeling. It seemed like only minutes. Lyric got to her feet, wiping her face on her sleeve.

“You okay?”

Lyric sniffed, looked up at him and gave him a faint smile. “Please stop asking me that question.”

Brandon chuckled and gave her a quick hug. “All right.” Brandon pulled away. “He will never leave you or forsake you Lyric.”

She nodded.

“You ready to leave?”

She shook her head then bent down and took a handful of dirt from the grave. “Now, I’m ready.”

Brandon knew she still had far to go, but there was a sense of God’s peace in that truck as they drove home. When Nicklaus pulled up to the yard and jumped out of his car, Lyric showed only a moment’s apprehension. And when he ran to her and gathered her up into his arms, Brandon knew God’s healing had begun.

Brandon knew it would be a slow process for Lyric, but he trusted the Lord to keep her and guide her every step of the way. “As far as the east is from the west,” whispered Brandon. “You are the Faithful One, Oh my God.”

Chapter Twelve

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened,
and I will give you rest.”
Matthew 11:28

Lyric has more to say.
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