So Pure a Heart (Daughters of His Kingdom 4)

There was no fear, as he’d thought perhaps there would be. In its place, peace nestled. The likes of which he hadn’t relished in far too long.

With a nod, Philo answered. “So long as you give your word that my daughter and Joseph will be set free.” He glanced to Hannah, whose cheeks were wet as she held a hand over her mouth.

Stockton’s eyes narrowed, and his head cant to one side ever so slight. “I must be sure they have not themselves committed treason—”

“They have not—”

“I will do as I see fit!” He gestured for Philo to exit. “You will spend your last evening in the barn, where Lieutenant Greene will extract from you what information you have to share.”

They would torture him then? Would that God might fill his head with something, anything that might persuade them he had knowledge to share and that they would find his fabrication plausible.

Philo started for the door, and Hannah reached for him, her face pleading. But Greene yanked him away and through the door, into the biting night. Greene continued to pull Philo across the yard, but he wrenched his neck around to peer at the child he loved—the child who called for him through her tears. Past the few soldiers that still shuffled around the yard, past the bodies that lay side by side on the cold ground, Philo opened his soul to God. Oh Lord. Have mercy. That would be him in a matter of hours. His mortal vestiture to at last become one with the earth.

Entering the dank barn, he was shoved against a bench seconds b

efore the door was slammed and blackness consumed him. He knit his fingers and pressed his hands against his head, a surge of emotion writhing through him in gasping waves.

He fell to his knees and wept. The grief he had caused, the compassion he had withheld—the love he had not shared and should have, racked him with the pains of a soul already damned to hell. Gritting his teeth until his jaw threatened to crack, Philo strained to keep his wailing silent as tears spilled over his cheeks.

Lord, I thank thee for allowing me to offer myself in their place, that I may take upon myself the punishment. Forgive me, I pray thee. Forgive me. Grant my daughter freedom. Give her the life she deserves with the man she loves. And, Lord, grant me thy everlasting grace, that despite my transgressions I may be permitted to come into thy kingdom.

He inhaled a gasping breath and gripped his fingers into his hair.

In a few hours he would meet the very One he prayed to. Then he would know what God would decree for him, whether he was worthy of an eternity of rest and peace.

But even then, there was only one thing he truly wanted. A thing he feared he might not ever have but was more precious to him than salvation.

If Hannah could forgive him, ’twould be enough to give peace to his writhing spirit no matter where he spent eternity. And for that very need, he held his head in his hands and prayed as he had never done before.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Joseph gripped Hannah around the shoulders and helped her up the front steps of the home where the party went on in disinterested bliss. Her trembling frame unsettled what feeble inner strength Joseph had remaining. He still could not comprehend what had happened. How had Philo attained the note, and why would he—

“There you are. Oh my dear!” Dottie rushed from the house, arms extended. “Come. Come. I will take you inside and give you some tea by the fire.”

Hannah’s pained smile showed her thanks, but the red rimming her eyes lay bare the raw emotions that pierced her as real as a weapon in her flesh.

Joseph pressed a kiss to Hannah’s head and nudged her face toward his. “Warm yourself. I shall not be long.”

Her cold fingers gripped his, and her words cracked. “Why did he…” She shook her head, a tear falling.

He brushed it away, hoping she would finish the rest—unburden her heart of the questions she bore.

“What happened, Joseph? Why would he do it?”

Again, he dotted his lips against her hair. “I do not know, my darling.”

He replayed the scene, and still he could not settle on anything that would calm his frenzied spirit. The woman whose father had hated them would now suffer a fate that should have been theirs. The questions hung from his shoulders, pressing against his back, and there was no amount of shrugging that would release their hold. Only answers. And he must have them. For Hannah, if not for himself. She could not endure a life with an unknown that harrowed such as this.

Joseph glanced to Dottie, whose pointed features were soft with concern. “Thank you for seeing to her. I shall not be long.”

“Of course.” She nodded, taking Joseph’s place at Hannah’s side and leading her into the house.

He didn’t move as he watched them enter and close the giant door behind them. Shaking his head, Joseph exhaled a hard breath from his nose. If only there were a way to—

“You should not stay here long.”

Joseph turned his head behind him at the sound of Higley’s voice. “Nay.” He knew that much but had yet the luxury of considering what he could do—where he could take her, where they would be safe. And should he bring Jacob as well? Or would that place the boy in greater danger should they be caught? Lord, grant me thy wisdom, I pray thee.