Saving Grace (The Grace Series Book 2) by Elizabeth Courtright Page A

her brother and William Hughes. She got through them because Sebastian was there. His brief smile was enough to revive her courage and determination. She sat in the pew between Trent and her husband. She sang the hymns, she listened intently to Sebastian’s lesson, and she didn’t have to speak to Jon once.
    At the end of the service, as always, Sebastian stood in the chancel, shaking hands and saying farewell to the congregation as they shuffled past. When it was her turn, he folded Jessica’s hand between both of his and asked, “Will I see you tomorrow?”
    Jessica returned his smile. “Yes, of course. I will be here.”
    Because Jon was right behind her in line, anything more they might have said to each other was stilted. Sebastian turned to Jon and said, “Captain, I see you’ve decided to come back.”
    Jon didn’t comment to that. All he said was, “Good day, Reverend.”
    Outside, Jessica strode purposefully toward the carriage. She had no intention of waiting for Jon, but she heard him hurrying to catch up to her. She quickened her pace, but she wasn’t fast enough. He caught her elbow. “Let go!” she screeched.
    As she turned, however, she was surprised to discover the person who grabbed her wasn’t Jon. It was Trent. Jon, she saw, was still near the porch, saying farewell to her father and William Hughes.
    “Geez, Jessica!” Trent hissed.
    “Sorry. You startled me,” she said. “I thought you were Jon.”
    “Listen, Jessie.” Trent’s irritation was gone. He looked deadly serious. “We don’t have a lot of time. Kinsley is coming. I want to know, has he done anything to harm you? Has he ever hit you?”
    The question caught her unawares. “No, of course not.”
    Trent’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “You’d better be telling me the truth. Has he… has he forced himself on you?”
    “He would never do that!” Jessica said, but she was flustered, too. Not because of the question, but because she was so sure of her answer.
    “If he ever does anything to harm you, Jessie, I want you to leave. You come home to the farm.”
    “Jon won’t hurt me,” Jessica repeated.
    “Maybe he hasn’t, but I don’t trust him. If that ass you married ever threatens you, you promise you’ll get away from him.”
    “Okay, I promise,” Jessica said, but she was still disconcerted. There was no more time, however. Jon was close, a mere few yards away.
    Trent hastily embraced her and kissed her forehead. “Bye, Jessie. You take care.” To Jon, he nodded curtly. “Kinsley.”
    “Emerson.” Jon nodded in return.
    The carriage ride back to Bent Oak Manor was made in silence, too. They were in the drive when Jon, in a tone laced with clipped disdain, said, “I don’t anticipate returning to church anytime soon. Herlin won’t have to wait outside in the cold.”
    Jessica refused to look at him. It galled her that he knew about Herlin attending the services, but of course her father, William Hughes, or any of Jon’s other Klan comrades would have told him. He stepped down from the carriage first and stood beside it holding his hand up to her. For the fourth time that day, she ignored his proffered assistance. As soon as she was firmly on her feet, he turned around and walked away.
    Jessica stared after him. Perhaps it wasn’t the Christian thing to feel, especially on a Sunday, but her only prevailing thought was that she deeply loathed him.
     
    * * *
     
    For February the temperature was unusually warm. Instead of snow, the precipitation was rain and it was coming down in a deluge. It hammered on the tin roof of the parsonage and pelted against the window glass. Combined with the strong winds, the cacophony of noises was loud, but somehow comforting. Inside the house, Sebastian was warm and dry, and quite intoxicated.
    It was the second anniversary of his wife’s death. He didn’t imbibe often, but he’d done this same thing a year ago. For the last hour he’d been slouched on the sofa staring