Red Hill by Jamie McGuire Page A

sanctuary. Zoe slid off her chair and walked toward me, and when she gripped my fingers, the strength in her tiny hand surprised me.
    We sat together on a pew beside Gary, hoping the hammering would drown out some of the noise coming from the kitchen. Between the moaning noises Jill made while she vomited, she whimpered and cried for Skeeter to help her.
    â€œShe’s sweating, Daddy,” Zoe said, “a whole lot.” Her eyes were heavy with worry. “Then her face went all wonky and she threw up on the floor. She said her whole body hurt like she had the flu.”
    I nodded. “Did that scare you?”
    â€œIt all scares me,” she said. The skin around her eyes tightened, and I could see she was trying not to cry.
    No one knew what would happen to Jill, but I had an idea of what might be happening, and I didn’t want Zoe to witness it. Short of Skeeter moving Jill somewhere else, the only way to keep Zoe from witnessing her aunt’s death was to take her away from the church. That meant taking her outside where it wasn’t safe.
    â€œI’m so sorry, honey. I wish I could make this all go away.” I hugged Zoe to my chest, trying to buy some time before a solution came to mind.
    Jill was sobbing now. She probably knew what was happening, too.
    I cupped Zoe’s little cherubic face in my hands, scanning the splash of freckles across her nose and light-brown hair. She’d kept the same simple shoulder-length hair cut since she was four. Her natural waves made it bouncy, but it seemed like her worry had weighed that down, too. “I’m going to try to help Uncle Skeeter. I want you to stay in here, okay? You’re safe in here. I won’t be gone long.”
    Zoe nodded quickly, glancing back to Gary and Eric as they pounded the last nails into the last board.
    â€œGood girl,” I said, kissing her forehead.
    Skeeter was on one knee, both arms wrapped around his wife. She leaned against his chest, her face blotchy and glistening with sweat. Skeeter stared at the floor, whispering something to her, with the same hopelessness in his eyes as the woman we passed on the bridge. His young and healthy wife was dying in his arms, and they both knew it.
    Doris filled a glass with water, and leaned down to hold it to Jill’s lips. She took a few sips and then spit it out, leaning down to the bucket, emptying her stomach once more.
    â€œWe need the doctor,” Doris said.
    â€œThe doctor’s dead,” Gary said, dropping the hammer on the table next to Jill. “So is his wife, and kids. They’re all walking around out there with milky eyes and bite marks.”
    Jill sniffed once, and looked up at her husband. “Skeeter.”
    â€œNo,” he said, shaking his head, still staring at the floor.
    â€œSkeeter, what if I hurt the people in here?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhat if I hurt you?”
    â€œNo!”
    â€œWhat if I kill Zoe?” she pleaded, tears streaming down her reddened cheeks. Her breath skipped, and she pulled Skeeter’s face down so his eyes met hers. “Don’t let me hurt that baby, Skeeter.”
    Skeeter’s bottom lip quivered. “But what about our baby?”
    I stood up straight, away from the doorjamb I was leaning on. “What?”
    â€œWhat was that?” Doris said.
    â€œJill’s pregnant,” Skeeter said, his voice desperate. “Seven weeks. Dr. Brown just called her this morning.”
    I leaned down and grabbed my knees. I couldn’t imagine the agony he was feeling. They didn’t deserve this. They’d been trying to conceive since their wedding night, and now Skeeter would lose them both.
    Jill touched her forehead to Skeeter’s chin, and then looked up at him with a weak smile. “We’ll be together, and we’ll wait for you.”
    Skeeter broke down, burying his face into Jill’s neck. “I can’t do it, Jillybean,” he