She leaned her head against the seat back. “How did you know to come, Mike?”

“Georgia called me. So did Erica. Said Sam was on his way over and 911 had been called.”

“Oh.” She felt the uphill drive, turning the corner and stopping. It was as if she was sitting in the backseat, watching what was going on. Surely all this was happening to someone else. “When am I going to wake up from the nightmare?”

His warm hand clasped her ice-cold one. The fog was creeping in again, dense and dirty.

Chapter Nine

If someone can give me a ride, I can spend the night with her and stay for however long she needs me,” Amalia said into the phone. She turned off her alarm clock.

“Thank you, Amalia,” Pastor Mike replied. “I’ll be right in. Ginny is sleeping, and this will allow Sam and Erica to go back home.”

“Good, I’ll be packed and meet you at the side. Thanks.” Amalia mopped at her tears again. She knew so well what Ginny was going through, even though her valley had been fifteen years ago when Aaron died. Although it was not unexpected since he was some years older than she, one can never be prepared. And for poor Ginny, there had been no preparation. Amalia dug out her small suitcase, folded in the things she would need for the next few days, and zipped it shut. She made sure her knitting and a couple of other projects were in her bag along with the necessary supplies, and she watered her plants well. Stacking Jehoshaphat’s food dish high, she told him, “I’ll ask Pastor Mike to make certain you’re fed. I’ll give him a key.” Who knew when she might be back? It all depended on how Ginny was doing.

Earlier, she had called a friend in senior services to take over her senior-living-home chores and now, hat on head, she shut the door behind her, making sure the little sign on her door said GONE VISITING, so the woman who checked every door every day would not panic when she hadn’t turned her tag over.

Dear Lord, she prayed, comfort all of us, but especially Ginny and her family. Fred will be sorely missed here on earth but I know You gave him a grand welcome up there. Then she thought, Bet he was surprised to go home so abruptly. Collapsed in the chicken house. I sure do hope it was a swift journey so he didn’t lie there and suffer—all by himself. Somehow I don’t think chickens count.

When Pastor Mike pulled up to the curb, Amalia picked up her bag and case and, heaving a sigh, stepped outside. Automatically she checked her watch. One a.m. Good thing she was not one to sleep heavily or she might have missed the call.

“Thank you for doing this.” Mike held the car door open for her.

“I’m glad I can. My sister did the same for me when Aaron died. But that was a waiting game, not a blindsided surprise, or rather, a shock. Do they know the cause of death?”