She shouldn’t have talked about Jonathan. She hadn’t planned on telling anyone—especially Wyatt. And now she’d gone and opened up to him like that, when keeping her mouth shut would have been the better way. Anxious, she sank into the kitchen chair of her travel trailer and felt the walls closing in on her. She’d laid her Bible beside her bed when she’d unpacked, but she hadn’t opened it. Now she reached for it, feeling an urgent need. But, like all the other times she’d tried to read since the breakup, she couldn’t do it. It felt like there was a barrier between her and the words written on the page. Oh, she could scan them, but it was as if someone was speaking and she was inside a soundproof room, hearing nothing. She closed the book and, needing space, she went outside. She walked to the rear of the trailer, not wanting Wyatt to see her pacing. She’d seen what looked like a low wall near the wood’s edge and she was pleasantly surprised to find an archway with an iron gate.
