Chapter 79 – Divine Protection

Edward

I had never told Bella what it was I had seen the day Father Brady had tried to run her down after Laurant's memorial. I had no clue what to tell her, since I was not really sure what, or who, it had been myself. All I knew was, they had shown up that day and had saved our lives, and they had shown up again and kept Bella from losing her grip and falling, as Alec Lebuteur and Jonas Brady had slid down her body and fallen to their deaths. Since Emmett never said anything, I didn't think he had seen what I had, but I had clearly seen them, and I would go to my grave believing God had sent them to help us.

I would suppose some might have said they were guardian angels, others might have said they were ghosts or something like that. The "entities" had form, and yet, they didn't. I knew instinctually, though, that they had been there to protect us, and I had felt a warm, all-encompassing love emanating from them. I was deeply indebted to them, and once again, I was humbled to have been in their presence and under their care with Bella.

For most of her adult life, Bella had been in danger of one sort or another, just living and working day to day, without ever truly considering the potentially deadly nature of her existence. I had learned that she had endured many close calls in her job, and she had always walked away unscathed. Realistically speaking, she should not have even been alive now, yet there she was in front of me, beautiful, well, and glowing. I was now certain without a doubt, as I watched her placing red roses from her rosebushes at home on the graves of Laurant and Annette Dubois, Jane and Alec Lebuteur, Jonas Brady, and Dr. Stanley, that she had been carefully guarded by a force so strong that no amount of evil could overcome it, and that force was love.

Bella walked beside me, as we made our way to the other side of the cemetery, where my parents and all our grandparents were buried, leaving red roses for each of them as well. With each rose, she said a small prayer and a few words to the person receiving it. I sat on a bench a few feet away, as she finally left roses for her Grammy and Poppa, and I could hear her gently talking to them.

"Hey, you two, I've been keeping you busy, huh? Well, I think things will settle down a bit now, but don't be strangers. It'll probably be a while before I get there, but I'm looking forward to our reunion. I know it'll be wonderful," she said, smiling and wiping tears at the same time, as the sunlight shining down on her brightened slightly, and a warm breeze lifted her curls around her in a swirl. Somehow, I didn't think they would ever be far away, and I was perfectly happy with that.

After a while, we walked in comfortable silence back to the car, Bella twirling the last stem in her hand. "We have an extra?" I asked, as I looked down into her beautiful, warm eyes.

She shook her head and smiled back at me. "I have one last grave to visit," she said, as she climbed into the car. "Let's go home."

Charlie and Renee were sitting on the front porch swing together when we pulled into the driveway. They looked to me with concern, but I just smiled, letting them know everything was alright. Bella ran up to them, hugging and kissing them both, before taking my hand and leading me into the house. She stopped briefly to kiss four furry heads, as we passed the window seat in the kitchen on our way out the backdoor. We walked to the far corner of the yard, where she sat down in the grass in front of a large, flat rock and gently laid the last rose on it. I sat down next to her, finally understanding.

"Pepper was the answer to a lot of prayers and begging," she smiled softly, brushing the tears off her cheeks as they rolled down. "She was so pretty. The sweetest, friendliest little puppy you could ever meet, and so very trusting of everyone. She'd go to anyone who'd rub her fat little belly, so I'm sure he had no problem getting her. I always felt so guilty about her death. I thought my irresponsible behavior had caused it, and it was what I deserved for not taking better care of her. It doesn't make having lost her any easier, but it does help a little knowing what happened now and that it really wasn't my fault." She buried her face in my shoulder, as I held her and let her mourn her little friend she'd loved so much.

After Father Lebuteur's death, the police had gone into his apartment, and amongst his personal effects were a set of diaries he had kept from the time he was a young boy. In them, he had chronicled years' worth of thoughts, observations, and commentary. But the main theme of all of them was his disdain for his mother, his obsession with Laurant Dubois, and his escalating loathing of Bella. She never knew. She'd never had a clue about Laurant or his feelings for her, or that Alec Lebuteur was the one who had killed her dog, Pepper…a violent act of hatred and jealousy, which he had chronicled in gruesome detail. He had recorded that act, along with all his other atrocities, in his many journals. Unfortunately, there had been many atrocities committed, and no one had been any the wiser.

He had moved around a lot within the church, so his trail of woes had not been easy to track. He had been the consummate actor, deceiving everyone he had met, and many people had suffered, including several young boys. He had kept photos of them and detailed descriptions of each encounter, which the police and the church were still investigating. The common theme of them was that each young boy had greatly resembled a young Laurant Dubois.

There was so much anger and pain in those volumes, much of which Lebuteur himself admitted in his journals that he could have avoided had he had the courage to embrace who he was in this world, the church be damned, and live his life for his own fulfillment and happiness.

Instead, he had bowed to his mother's demands, internalizing his anger, frustration, and dissatisfaction over a life he had never truly wanted, and then he had focused those negative emotions towards Bella, who had never done anything to deserve it. His misdirected blame for an unfulfilled life, his self-imposed anguish for an unrequited love, and his unjustified animosity had been aimed at someone who was guarded by heaven itself.

He never stood a chance.