“But she passed out. Wouldn’t that mean she was hit harder than that?” Luc glanced at Priscilla, who had loosely braided her hair and now fastened a hair tie at the end.
“I think that was due more to her body being on overload from the events of the past day. In other words, she was exhausted, and it only took a little push for her body to shut down.” Dr. Collins regarded Luc. “She’ll be okay. Trust me on this.”
Mac consulted his phone. “Ride’s here. Let’s go.”
Luc followed them through the clinic. At the door, a nurse handed Priscilla a bag with her medicine. As they stepped out into the night, Luc shot a prayer heavenward. Thank You for keeping Priscilla safe. Please let the marshals find the person responsible before any more harm comes to her.
* * *
In the back seat of yet another SUV, Priscilla leaned her head against the seat. Mac occupied the seat beside her, while another marshal drove. Luc rode in a separate vehicle behind theirs. A third SUV with two agents led the way. While glad to be able to rest for a while during the trip to a second secure location, she missed Luc’s presence. Even though Mac had made no bones about the fact that he wasn’t entirely sure Luc’s entry into her life hadn’t triggered these incidents, she didn’t feel threatened by Luc. Why she would feel that way after so short a time, she didn’t have the brain power to contemplate. Her eyes slid closed, and Priscilla used the quiet to thank God for keeping her safe over the past twenty-four hours.
“Praying?”
Priscilla blinked and straightened in the seat. Mac glanced at her, his cell phone in his hand.
“Seemed like the right thing to do.” Priscilla didn’t apologize or explain why, just stated it as a fact. Mac had seen her pray often over the years he had been assigned as her contact.
“You pray more than anyone I’ve ever known.” Mac placed a hand on her arm. “We’ll get this guy. I can promise you that.”
Priscilla summoned a smile. “I know you’ll try your hardest, Mac.”
Mac turned the screen off on his cell. “I suppose that means you think God might have other plans.”
“He might.” Priscilla didn’t preach Christianity to Mac, but instead preferred to live her faith and let that speak for itself.
“Forgive me for saying so, but that sounds ominous.” He turned to her and raised his eyebrows. “You haven’t changed your mind about what you said when we met the first time, have you?”
“Refresh my memory?”
Mac drew in a breath and let it out in a whoosh. “You once told me that if Culvert managed to kill you despite my best efforts, I wasn’t to take it personally—that sometimes our plans differ from God’s plans.”
Priscilla chose her words carefully. Mac didn’t often bring up her faith, although she wasn’t shy about who she knew to be in charge of the universe. “God calls each of his children home in different ways. Mine might be at the hands of a murderer or it might be in my sleep at a ripe old age. But however it happens, I know that it will be for God’s glory and for my good.”
“How can you believe that death at the hands of a murderer is part of God’s plan for you?” Mac’s gaze intensified, as if willing her to say the words to erase his own doubts about God. “Someone is trying to kill you. A man you can’t remember says he’s your husband. And you’re telling me that your faith is so solid, so sure, that a bullet between your eyes would be for the glory of your God.”
Since his assignment to guard her after she’d been in WITSEC for four years, she’d learned that his faith was in himself, in his ability to weather any storm life sent his way. Now Priscilla answered him with confidence, knowing that Mac could easily dismiss the truth like he’d done over the past three years.
“It’s God’s peace.” As she spoke, that peace settled deep into her own heart, strengthening her resolve and faith. “For me, I know I’m in the palm of His hand and that nothing of this world can truly hurt me.”
Mac’s perplexed expression softened. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could respond, his cell phone buzzed. “Mac.” He sobered as he listened to the caller. “I see. When?”