The Crimson Fall (The Sons of Liberty Book 1) by Jordan Ervin Page B

as Joe’s death had. Though he had believed his faith to be nonexistent, he had tried to seek God out in his season of fear. He was left with nothing more than an infuriating silence. Every single time he asked for God to explain what happened, he couldn’t bring himself to look for a reason justifying God’s actions. Adam demanded answers that never came. He would end his conversations with God more upset than when he had begun and after a month of prayer, he had ceased it altogether. With time, Adam realized that whatever faith he had retained from his fiery youth had ceased to exist as surely as Joe had on the day he died.
    Adam shuffled through the downstairs hallway and stopped just short of the large living area, staring wordlessly toward the far end of the brightly-lit room. Sarah sat alone by the fireplace with her worn Bible in her lap and hot cup of coffee cradled between two hands. Her brown hair caught the light shining through the tall windows behind her and framed her beautiful face with a radiant glow. She smiled as she read, shifting her feet underneath her and sipping slowly from her favorite mug. The coffee table between the two old chairs had a second steaming mug waiting for Adam and he gladly walked over to it.
    Sarah looked up at him and smiled.
    “Good morning,” she said and gave him a kiss. “How did you sleep?”
    Adam took a seat and a sip of his coffee. “I didn’t.”
                  “Sorry to hear that.” Sarah frowned. “We already ate breakfast, but I can cook up some eggs if you’d like.”
    “I’m not hungry,” Adam said, “but thanks for the coffee. Where are the kids?”
    “Rick and your mom took the kids down into town to go shopping. Judah’s finally made some friends here and apparently he’s the only one without cowboy boots in this corner of Colorado. And you know your dad,” she said with a laugh. “He said no grandson of his is picking out his first pair of cowboy boots without his help. And of course the girls had to have a pair as well. Eva’s birthday is next week, you know. Have you thought of any ideas?”
    “Dad helped Joe and I pick out our first pair of boots,” Adam said passively as he stared ahead blankly. He couldn’t concentrate. Boots, breakfast, birthdays; he thought of how trivial it all was in the grand scheme of things. Adam saw boots as a distraction, like everything else, that was meant solely to occupy their time before death finally claimed what was owed. He thought about how slick some of the boots could be and he pictured Judah slipping and cracking his head open, dying a slow, cold death on the freezing winter ice. In his mind, he was already burying his teenage boy. Adam thought about calling Judi and telling her to not let Judah get any boots with smooth soles, but he shook his head and decided to let it go. He refused to live his life and raise his family in fear, even if his thoughts were consumed by it daily.
    Sarah was looking at him. She had said something and he had missed it.
    “No, I mean, sure. Eggs are fine.”
    Sadness filled Sarah’s pretty face as she stared back at him.
    “I love you, Adam,” she finally said.
    “I love you, too,” Adam said guardedly, knowing her words had been a loaded statement.
    “And as someone who loves you please believe me when I say that you’ve really got to snap out of this. I’m here to help you and you need to know that I will stick with you in sickness and in health. But if you need help other than what I can give you, then don’t be afraid to seek it out.”
    “I don’t need a therapist,” Adam said defensively.
    “Then what do you need?”
    He stared back, suppressing the customary anger that flared up when he asked himself that question. Not anger toward her but at his inability to give an answer. He had vowed, privately and publically, to help this nation find itself again after the attack. But the days of mourning turned into weeks and eventually, he had