Page 76 of Forever Dark
“The king,” Croft said, each word slow and forceful, “has one more move!”
By the third repetition half the tent was standing.
“There is always hope.”
He lifted a hand and the words rolled back at him from every side.
“There is always hope.”
“No matter how bad it gets,” Croft called.
“No matter how bad it gets,” the crowd answered.
“The king has one more move!”
“The king has one more move!”
Applause thundered under the canvas roof.A child started crying somewhere near the back.A man wiped at his face with one hard swipe of his wrist and did not seem embarrassed by it.Selena remained seated, hands locked together, pulse a little faster than before.
Beside her, Connor stayed still, too, as they listened to the rest of the sermon.
Croft closed the sermon in prayer, voice low now, shepherding the crowd down from the height he had pushed them to.When he finished, the guitarist and his band moved straight into another song, this one brighter than the first.Guitar, handclaps, a brushed snare.People were already singing by the time Croft came down off the platform.
Selena watched him enter the crowd.
He didn’t hurry.Didn’t need to.People reached for him.Hands extended.Faces opened.Croft moved among them with a touch on a shoulder here, a clasped hand there, a word bent toward one person, then the next.He had the ease of a politician and the intimacy of a man pretending every conversation mattered more than it possibly could.
“He’s definitely got influence over people,” Selena said.
Connor’s eyes stayed on Croft.“Yeah, but the wrong kind.”
“I wouldn’t say that.You don’t know.Sometimes it’s good to hear about hope.”
Connor turned to her, disbelief plain enough to be almost funny.“Don’t tell me you fell for that.”
“You never were one for religion, Connor.”
“Religion’s about trust,” he said.“And I don’t trust anyone when their message is too good to be true.Especially when they wield authority.”
Selena glanced at the badge on his belt.“Says the man who became a sheriff.”
Connor grinned.“True.But then I don’t trust myself either.”
The line drew a small smile from her.For a second Selena wondered whether he meant it.Connor had always distrusted easy answers, grand gestures, men who liked being watched.That part had not changed.Maybe the same was true of himself.Maybe it wasn’t.But it was almost reassuring to know that the rebel within still burned in there somewhere.Croft, meanwhile, worked the aisles like he had all night to do it.
Selena rose.“Let’s go meet the preacher.”
Connor stood with her.
Getting through the crowd took longer than it should have.People were still standing in the aisles, clapping, hugging, talking too loudly over the music.A woman with tears on her cheeks caught Croft’s hand and held it in both of hers while she spoke.He listened with grave attention, then squeezed once and moved on.By the time Selena and Connor reached the front third of the tent, Croft had nearly circled toward them of his own accord.
He saw them coming.Or saw something in them that set them apart.
The smile arrived first.Warm and open.
“Evening,” Croft said as he stepped close enough to be heard without shouting.
Connor put out his hand.“Sheriff Connor Chase.Harlan County.”
