Luke grunted.
“Okay, Buddy, let’s go, Buddy. Follow me, Buddy.”
The twosome clambered out of the lean-to, noisily closing the door behind them.
Luke awoke several hours later to the sound of raindrops pelting the roof. Though it wasn’t raining hard, already moisture was dripping down through the cracks. He hauled himself up off the hard ground and scrubbed his hands over his face. He was hungry and dirty. He looked up at the dripping ceiling. Before he got cleaned up for breakfast, he’d best stash his things someplace dry.
Fifteen minutes later, Luke entered the back door of the house, clean and dressed in a fresh shirt. The smell of hot coffee beckoned him to the kitchen. He took a cup off a shelf and filled it from the pot sitting on the stove.
“Good morning,” Deborah called as she came through the doorway. She tied an apron around her waist as she approached him. “Case said you were up late last night and wanted to sleep in. I saved some breakfast for you. Sit down and I’ll fix you a plate.”
“Thanks.” He carried his cup to the table and sat so he could watch Deborah at the stove. Luke was certain he’d never seen a more beautiful sight.
She was wearing a plain white blouse and gray skirt. He’d noted she wasn’t the sort of woman who wore a lot of frills, but she always managed to look soft and feminine. Her long hair was pulled off her face with combs and pinned in a loose knot at the nape of her neck. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d been tempted to reach out and touch a silken strand.
She turned from the stove, a full plate in her hands, and walked toward him. The smile on her face assured him there would be no awkwardness over last night’s near kiss.
She placed the plate in front of him, then slid into the chair across from his. “When Case told me you were out last night, I began to worry. Is there a problem?”
Luke deliberated about how much he should tell her. By suggesting the possibility of danger he risked dampening the feelings he thought he’d seen in her eyes last night. Deborah had strong feelings about violence. If she thought his presence would bring violence down upon their heads, her feelings for him might change.
On the other hand, he must warn them. Until his sixth sense was silenced, they must all be on their guard. “No problem, exactly. Just a feeling. I can’t explain except to say when I get this feeling, it always means danger.”
Deborah blanched. “Danger?”
He kept his expression neutral, waiting for her to draw the logical conclusion. If it wasn’t for him and his “violent lifestyle” she and Case would be safe. His presence brought trouble. Maybe they’d be better off if he left.
Deborah was silent for a long time, the falling rain outside amplifying the quiet. “What do we need to do?” she asked at last.
“We?”
She shot him a look of exasperation. “Of course we. Did you think you were in this alone?” She frowned. “Never mind answering, I can see the truth in your face. Though it is nothing for you to lay everything aside to protect the relatives of a man you once knew, you believe we’d have no qualms about abandoning you.”
“It’s not—”
She wouldn’t let him finish. “I understand that given your background, it is difficult to look to others for help. You have been on your own your whole life. But things change. You are not alone anymore, and you might as well get used to it.”
“Hey, Debs, hey, Luke!” Case called as he burst into the kitchen with Buddy at his heels.
Deborah was out of her chair in a flash. “Case! You’re soaked,” she scolded.
He grinned. “Buddy had some business outside. I went with him to show him the best places.”
She fought an answering smile. “That was very kind of you, I’m sure. Now get out of those wet things and into some dry clothes. You can sit here by the stove and warm up. I’ll fix you a cup of tea.”
Case grimaced at the mention of tea before limping off to the other room to change. Buddy gave a mighty shake, sending droplets of water flying into the air, then turned three neat circles in front of the stove before settling in with a contented sigh.
Deborah put on a pot of water to boil and rummaged around for the tin of chamomile tea.
Case returned minutes later. He handed his wet clothes to his sister and joined Luke at the table. “Were you surprised to find Buddy and me in your bed last night?”
Luke nodded. “A bit.”
“I had something to tell you. Something too wonderful to wait until morning.”
“Is that right? And just what is this wonderful thing?”
“I figured out how to get you a birthday. It bothered me a whole lot last night when you said you didn’t know when you were born. Everybody ought to have a birthday. I thought about it when I went to bed and I came up with a plan. You’ve got to be born again.”
Up until his last statement, Luke had been following Case’s excited chatter. Suddenly he was lost. “Do what?”
Deborah carried a cup of steaming tea to the table and placed it in front of Case before taking a seat across from Luke.
“It doesn’t mean be reborn physically,” she explained. “That’s impossible, of course. Being born again is a term used in the Bible for spiritual rebirth.”
“It’s like we talked about at the springs. God sent His only Son, Jesus, to die on the cross to take our punishment for sins. Anyone who receives the gift of salvation is born again. See how easy it would be?”
“I don’t know—”
“What’s not to know?” Case asked. “Don’t you want to be born again?”
Did he want to be born again? More than anything. Luke knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this rebirth was the thing he’d been hungering for his entire life. The void within him, the yearning that would not be quieted, was his soul-seeking connection with his Creator.
God had done His part. Luke would never understand why the Almighty Creator of the universe would want to have anything to do with a sorry half-breed, but He did, and Luke wasn’t fool enough to refuse the offer. “But I’m not ready.”
Case was incredulous. “How can you not be ready?”
Deborah placed a hand on his arm to silence her brother and turned to Luke. “Why would you want to wait?”
This was going to be tough. He felt foolish spilling his guts. Still, they’d done so much for him. He owed them an explanation. “Once I’m born again, God is going to call me His son, right?”
Both Case and Deborah nodded.
“Well then, I want Him to be proud of me. No father is going to want a half-breed son that’s stupid. When I can read the Bible for myself, then I’ll accept His salvation.”
“No Luke, that’s wrong. God doesn’t think like that. Goodness, if He waited until we were good enough before He offered us salvation, no one would ever be saved. Don’t you see? God is perfect. Unless you become perfect, you’ll never be worthy to be called His child.
“But the Bible tells us that God didn’t care if we weren’t perfect. It says that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. God didn’t wait until you were good enough to offer His Son’s life for yours. You don’t have to wait until you’re good enough to accept.”
Luke hesitated. He supposed if his life had been an ordinary one, with a loving family and a place to call home, the decision would be an easy one. But all his life he’d worked for everything he got—whether food, a place to sleep, or respect. Because he’d earned everything, it went against his nature to take what he hadn’t earned, something he was unworthy of.
Deborah must have sensed his quandary. “This is not a decision to be rushed. You see, accepting salvation is only the beginning. By becoming God’s child, you are submitting to His authority in your life, to being molded by God’s Spirit and through His Word into the person He wants you to be.”
Outside, lightning slashed across the sky. Rain pelted the roof and sluiced down the windows in sheets. Inside, the room was cozy and warm, illuminated by the fli
ckering lamp.
The contrast between the quiet of the house and the fury of the storm mirrored Luke’s own life. He had a choice to make. Did he want to continue on in the storm, or was he ready to take shelter in the God who wanted to call him son?
“Tell me how to do it.”
Deborah beamed. “All you have to do is pray, Luke. And mean it in your heart.”
“I’ll pray with you,” Case offered. “I can say the words, and you can repeat them after me.”
Luke couldn’t resist grinning into Case’s eager face. “It’s a deal.”
Case reached across the table to take Luke’s hand. They closed their eyes and bowed their heads.
As he waited for Case to begin, Luke was surprised when Deborah slipped her hand into Luke’s empty one and gave it a gentle squeeze of support.
“Heavenly Father,” Case began, “I know I’m a sinner, completely unworthy to come before You. But I also know that in Your grace and mercy You made a way for me to be Your child, through Your Son, Jesus. I accept Your salvation through Jesus. I make Him Lord of my life, and I thank You for making me Your child. In Jesus’ name I pray, amen.”
“Welcome to the family, Luke,” Deborah whispered.
Case hopped up and threw his arms around Luke’s neck. “Happy birthday!”
Deborah declared it a day of celebration. She baked another cake, this one in honor of Luke’s “rebirthday.” While she cooked, Case and Luke did only the chores that must be done: gathering eggs, milking the cow, and feeding the livestock. They determined the rest could wait until tomorrow.
The storm raged throughout the day. The winds howled and rattled the glass in the windows and a soaking rain continued to fall. Lightning flashed across the leaden sky, and thunder crashed through the roiling heavens. It was a good day to stay inside.
Luke built a roaring fire in the huge stone fireplace in the sitting room to chase away the damp chill. Case dragged a small rag rug from the storage room and placed it in front of the fire so Buddy might join them.
They gathered around the square oak table to play cards and checkers. When they tired of games, Deborah and Case sang and told stories. Deborah got out the Bible and reread God’s promises to believers. Luke sat back in his chair to listen, arms folded across his chest, in complete contentment.
He was no longer a fatherless son. Finally, after all the years of loneliness and rejection, he had a Father who claimed him as His own. A Father who so treasured Luke that He would pay the highest price to bring Luke to Himself.
Luke didn’t figure he’d ever understand it all. But he knew for sure that he’d found what he’d been seeking his whole life. He belonged to God. And he was loved.
Deborah and Case had taken to the floor to dance. Deborah’s eyes gleamed as precious jewels in the firelight as she and Case laughed and whirled around the room. He smiled as Buddy joined in their graceless antics, barking and jumping at their feet.
As he watched them spin by, he wondered if it was wrong for a man who’d finally found the thing he’d looked for his whole life to suddenly want more. Was it greedy to aspire beyond having a father of his own? To want a woman and family to love?
“Bedtime, Case.”
Case looked up from his noisy wrestling match with the dog. “Already?”
Deborah nodded. “It’s late.”
Case yawned. “I guess I am pretty tired. It sure has been a fun day.” He hugged Buddy, kissed his furry head, and bid him good night. He limped over to the table to hug and kiss Luke and Deborah, then headed for the ladder. He was halfway to the loft when he turned to ask, “Where’s Luke gonna sleep tonight?”
Deborah frowned. “I hadn’t thought about that. It’ll be wet in the lean-to—”
“I’ll sleep in the barn.”
Deborah shook her head. “No indeed. You’d get soaked just going from the house to the barn. Soaked and covered in mud. Besides, it’s cold out there.”
Luke wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to people caring about him, but he was willing to try.
“Why doesn’t he sleep in your room, Debs? I’ve got plenty of space in my bed up here. You can sleep in the loft with me.”
“That’s a wonderful idea.” Deborah turned to Luke, “I’ll just collect the few things I’ll need for the night, and the room’s yours.”
After Case was tucked in, Luke followed Deborah to her room, hanging back at the door while she gathered some clothes.
“Luke,” she said, “earlier today you said you thought we were in some sort of danger. Do you still?”
He nodded. “I do. With the bad weather as cover I haven’t worried too much today. Man’d be a fool to try anything in a storm like that. But the danger’s still there.”
“What’s the plan?”
He allowed himself a smile into her grave upturned face. “The plan is to keep you and Case safe and dispose of the danger.”
“But—”
He placed a finger over her soft pink mouth. “Trust me.” When he withdrew his finger, she hopped up on her toes and kissed him lightly on the mouth. Before he could react to the surprise assault, she’d tucked the garments under her arm and darted out of the room.
He leaned back against the door frame and smiled.
CHAPTER 15
Luke’s first thought upon awakening was that the storm had finally moved on. The stillness outside meant he’d have plenty to do today, getting things back into shape after yesterday’s strong winds and rain, plus seeing to the security of the area.
Worries about Deborah and her brother’s safety had kept him awake long into the night. That, and the subtle fragrance of Deborah that clung to the sheets he was wrapped in. Concern for their safety demanded that he leave. The haunting sweetness of her scent begged him to stay.
The long night brought no answers to his dilemma. On the one hand, Deborah and Case needed his protection. They were alone and vulnerable. On the other hand, they wouldn’t be exposed to any real danger if he wasn’t there to attract it.
While his wasn’t the violent lifestyle Deborah had once accused him of, he’d seen his share of trouble. He had no doubt that the danger they now faced could be traced to him.
If he stayed, he risked exposing them to the violence she abhorred. How long would it be before she came to hate him as well?
If he left, he’d lose the two people he’d come to love more than life. How could he go on without them?
His thoughts once more at a frustrating impasse, Luke sat up and swung his feet around to the floor. The house was quiet. Deborah and Case must be catching a few extra minutes of sleep. He’d go fire up the stove and put some water on for coffee.
Luke dragged on his pants. He pulled on his shirt, fumbling with the buttons as he made his way across the dark hall and into the kitchen, now faintly illuminated with the pearl gray light of dawn.
He got the fire in the stove going and while he waited for the kindling to burn hot enough to add the big wood, he padded over to the window to see how the yard had fared through the storm.
He pressed his face to the glass. A gunshot rang out. Luke started at the sound, reflexively pulling back from the window. At the same moment, a second shot exploded, shattering the glass pane inches from where he stood. Luke dropped to the floor, his heart pounding, his mind racing.
“Luke?”
Deborah and Case. Crouching down to avoid detection, Luke raced from the kitchen to the sitting room. Deborah and Case peered nervously over the side of the loft.
“What was that?” Deborah asked.
“Sounded like gunfire,” Case said with more curiosity than fear.
Luke kept his voice low and even. “It was gunfire. It came from outside the kitchen. I’m going out to investigate. I want you to stay in the loft until I tell you it’s safe to come down.”
“But Luke—”
“Don’t come down until I say so.”
Deborah looked as though she might argue. Case reached over and wrapped a
n arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect Debs. You get the bad guy. And remember to be careful, Luke.”
Luke allowed himself one last look, memorizing the faces of the two people he loved most, before turning to go. As he rounded the corner he thought he heard Deborah whisper, “Take care of him, Lord. I love him.”
Luke grabbed his rifle and with a quick glance toward the front of the house to be certain the door was secure, he darted down the hall and eased open the back door just enough to slip out.
The gunshots appeared to have come from the north. Luke knew of several good-sized oaks in the northern corner of the yard that would provide cover for an assailant. He’d check there first. If the gunman was in the trees, Luke could exit the back of the house and come around the side of the lean-to without being spotted. With the woodpile on the end of the lean-to for protection, he could draw out the man. The key was to keep him away from the house.
Luke kept low to the ground, pressed against the damp walls of the house as he moved. Slowly, silently, he eased off the back porch and around to the lean-to. When he came to the end of the woodpile, stacked some four feet off the ground, he stopped.
Carefully, he peered around the sodden logs, his gaze trained on the oaks. Nothing. No sign of movement. Still, instinct told him the gunman waited there.
By now, the sun had started its ascent, dispelling the shadows of dawn. The air held a slight chill and the earth beneath Luke’s bare feet was damp and cold.
An unnatural silence hung in the air. Nothing stirred. Luke shifted back on his haunches and waited.
“Hey, Indian!”
Luke stiffened. The voice he heard was that of the drunk he’d knocked over in town.
“Hey, Indian,” the taunting cry continued, “why don’t you come on out? I’ve got something for you.”
Luke sat forward slightly, scanning the trees. He thought he saw movement behind the trunks. He raised his rifle, the trunk in his sights. When he moved again, Luke had him.
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