Page 60 of The Heart of the King

Jazz refused to think about the fact that her husband was the one trying to disarm or defuse or dismantle the thing.

Astrid wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “He’s going to be all right. They both are.”

Jazz simply nodded. She and Astrid both knew there were no guarantees.

The waiting was far more arduous than it should be.

Her phone buzzed. Jazz pulled it out to find a call from her mother incoming.

She answered without thinking. “Hello?”

“Is everything all right?” Her mother forewent niceties. “I’ve got this gut feeling...”

Her mother’s gut was notorious for being right.

“We’re fine for the moment, Mom. I can’t go into details, but prayer would be good.”

“We already have been.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it. We all do.”

“All? Who else?” Her mom’s curiosity came out of concern. Jazz knew this. She also knew she couldn’t share that information.

“A group of us.” She looked up to see Randall’s glare. “I’ve got to go, Mom. I’ll call you later.”

“Let me know when everything’s okay again.”

“I’ll call you later, Mom.” Tears unexpectedly filled her eyes. If this didn’t work out right, would this be the last time she talked to her mom? “Mom?”

“Yes?”

“I love you. Tell Dad and Tessa and the others, too. I love you more than you’ll ever know.” The tears spilled over. With her prayer warrior mother on the job, everything would almost have to be fine. But she told her anyway.

“We love you, too, sweetheart. We’re praying without ceasing until we hear otherwise from you.”

“Thanks, Mom. I love you,” Jazz repeated, then disconnected the call.

Astrid had left her side to give her some privacy and now held her daughter in her arms. Edward had his arms around both of them.

To the other side, Gabriel and Esme were huddled together with Benjamin holding the pregnant Katrín not far away.

Felling alone, Jazz wrapped her arms around herself and tried to turn her prayers into actual words.

It didn’t happen. Her thoughts and emotions simply swirled into an incoherent mass. At least she knew God understood anyway. For a moment she imagined that, inside and outside the yacht, a holy battle waged. Like something out of a Frank Peretti novel, guardian angels protected them, though the battle waged on far longer than the human protectees would prefer.

Peace swirled around Jazz, just waiting for her to grab hold of it, but she couldn’t. Not yet. Breathing deeply, holding it, blowing it out slowly, she finally began to allow it to seep into her pores.

Her head hung as her prayers continued to wing their way heavenward.

The family units mostly stayed together, though eventually, the seven of them found their way to each other, leaving her as the outsider.

Yes, she was the queen.

Something that still shocked her to her very core.

But she wasn’t one of them. Not yet. She was still an outsider, even though one of them was her own brother-in-law.

Jazz closed her eyes and tried again to pray.

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