Page 134 of Sheltering You

“I can do that.”

“Good.” Grant turned to the group. “Quiet.” His voice was deep, the single word loud and commanding, and amazingly, everyone stopped talking and focused on him.

“From now until this is over, you’re all combat soldiers, and I’m the general, which means you do as I say without question. Got it?”

There might’ve been some raised eyebrows, but when Michael nodded, the movement quick and his expression grim, the rest fell into line.

Derrick was not sorry at all that his brother was taking charge. Thank God Grant was here and knew what he was doing. Derrick wouldn’t have a clue how to protect Jasmine by himself.

“All right,” Grant said, “here’s the plan.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

This was all Jasmine’s fault.

She’d done exactly the wrong things, over and over. Because she’d dragged Derrick into her foolishness, he was in danger. Leila was in danger.

Jeremy and Zoë, two sweet young people Jasmine barely knew, were in danger.

Four-year-old Levi would celebrate a birthday in a few days—if he lived to see it.

Derrick’s parents, who’d welcomed her and treated her like a daughter, might not survive.

His brothers and sisters-in-law and Sophie. All of them were in danger because of Jasmine.

She sat on the couch where Derrick had put her, barely able to process what was happening.

Grant was giving orders.

Sam was checking weapons against boxes of ammo, then doling them out to the men and most of the women.

Peggy jogged down the stairs, calling, “Found it.” She set a cardboard box on one of the chairs. “Eliza, did you find batteries?”

Eliza carried in a box from the kitchen. “You have enough to power a city.”

“For such a time as this,” Peggy said with a wry grin.

How could they smile? How could they joke?

They set to work powering up the little black communication things. Someone had given them a strange, childish name, but Jasmine couldn’t remember it.

Derrick stood a few feet away from her, peering out the window through binoculars, though he kept looking at her, probably making sure she was still there.

She’d considered running. Maybe to do so would be noble, to protect this family by sacrificing herself. But would it work? Or would there be a battle anyway?

Roger had said her life was worth fighting for.

A year before, maybe even a week before, she might’ve scoffed at the idea. But now… He was right.

Christ had died for her. She must be valuable.

Her child definitely was.

She wouldn’t sacrifice herself or her future. She wouldn’t sacrifice the baby she carried. Did that make her selfish?

No.

Because Jesus would leave the ninety-nine to save the one. To Him, every life mattered. It wasn’t about weighing the worth of one against the worth of many. They were all precious and too valuable to measure.