James chewed on that while he finished the meal Mary had dropped off for him and his father. Who besides Travis could and would have set the fire? That was definitely the rub. As far as James could figure, he’d ruled out everyone else he knew. But he also knew Travis. And the man was protecting someone. It was his nature. His love of helping others was well-known. Had someone taken advantage of that and asked Travis to take the fall?

Again the idea of a conspiracy floated through James’s mind. Maybe it sounded crazy, but Travis was so kindhearted that anyone with a good enough sob story might convince him to confess. The entire town thought Travis was weird, so it wouldn’t take much convincing to get everyone to jump on the let’s-blame-Travis bandwagon.

James helped his father clear the table and get the dishes set in the dishwasher, and then he headed back out to the Pearce place. Maybe if he stared at the charred remains one more time, an answer would come. Please, Lord. Your Word was right there in the ashes, God. I know You meant me to find it. Beauty from ashes, beauty from ashes…what kind of beauty could possibly come from an entire family dying in a fire? Shards his own shattered life stabbed his being, his lost Lord, his lost friend, his lost family. James thought about his mother, what she would have done in the face of such loss. How would she feel if the tables were turned, if his father had died instead of his mother?

He considered his father as a husband losing a wife. Glen Moore had retreated behind a wall of gruffness and silence. Silence loaded with tension, feelings swirling beneath the surface as he coped with losing the love of his life. So much loss, Lord. So much loss. James’s thoughts circled back to the Pearce family and the fire.

His truck rattled down the roadway as the wind blowing against the vehicle increased. He leaned over and dialed up the heat. Cool air pumped through the vents as the old pickup battled the cold and pushed the engine temperature. Snowflakes began to hit the windshield, but not in any number that could be deemed snowfall. For that, James was grateful. While his mind went back and forth over information, he tried to stay focused on driving, avoiding the urge to watch the snowflakes funneling in his headlight beams. He didn’t want to get tunnel vision and end up in the ditch at the side of the road.