When You Call My Name. Sharon Sala

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      “It’s okay,” he said, and this time he took her by the hand and led the way toward the cabin on the other side of the yard.

      The night could not disguise the humble quality of the tiny abode. It was no more than four walls and a slanted, shingle roof, a rock chimney that angled up from the corner of the roof, with two narrow windows at the front of the cabin that stared back at them like a pair of dark, accusing eyes.

      Glory shivered apprehensively, then slipped the key from her jeans. As her fingers closed around it, she was thankful that her daddy had kept this one hidden at the cabin, or she would have been unable to get inside the night before.

      Wyatt listened to the woods around them as she worked the lock, and when the door swung open with a slight, warning squeak, she took his hand and led him through with an odd little welcome.

      “We’re home,” she said.

      As he followed her inside, he had the oddest sensation that what she said was true.