by Caryl McAdoo
“You know where he lives?”
“Somewhere in Manchester. I’ve never been there or anything. Remember the old fogey folks? I’m banned from even riding my horse that direction. I mean it. They are totally ridiculous.”
Asa leaned in a bit and smiled. “How about I invite him to church?”
“I don’t think he’d come.”
“But if he would, then you could see him on Wednesday nights and twice on Sunday. And the best part would be your parents could get to be around him. Who knows? They might even change their minds once they were.”
Discouraged, she slumped back in her chair. “You really think so?”
“Worth a shot, isn’t it? You pray, and I’ll go visit the Carters, invite the whole family to come. We’ll see if the Lord works it all out.”
“Okay.” She jumped up then backed up a step. “I’ve got to go; Momma will have the dogs out hunting me if I don’t get home.”
“Want us to take you?”
She pointed north. “Oh no, I’ll cut across the field. It’s only half a mile or so that way. More like five if you drive.”
“Sure, but let me pray with you before you go. He took Faith’s hand and held out his other across the desk. At his touch, skin to skin, her face warmed, and her heart beat faster—much faster. That seemed like a good thing, and she determined to add a check for the positive side. The pluses stood like four or five to one ahead of the minuses. Maybe she should start writing them down.
Taking his hand with her right, Lee Ann reached for Faith’s with the other, then he prayed. “Father, we love You and bless You, and recognize You as a just King. If Sky is the man You formed in his mother’s womb for Lee Ann, then we ask in Jesus’ name that Your favor will go before me to the Carters. We invite Your Holy Spirit into the situation and want Your Kingdom to come and Your will to be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Go with Lee Ann and teach her to hear your voice. Amen.”
The girl smiled but had turned white. “Good grief, Pastor, we’re not getting married. It’s just a date—our first at that—if it happens at all.”
Faith smiled, so she wasn’t the only one who thought the man rushed marriage a bit. With the preacher right behind, she walked out with her cousin then watched her climb over the church’s back rail fence and sprint off through the field. She faced Asa. “Sorry about my outburst. I didn’t mean to interfere. I know she came to see you, talk to you, not me. Will you forgive me?”
“Are you kidding? Us saying no in unison was great, really reinforced it.” He grinned. “What did you think? Worth quitting early for?”
“Oh yes, definitely, especially if you can get the Carter boy to church.”
“You know him?”
“Some, a little. I went to school with his big brother. There are four brothers and five sisters in all.”
“Know where they live?”
“I’ve been there.”
His new lady didn’t seem too eager to make a house call right then, but Asa didn’t like to grow any moss under his feet. A breeze stirred the treetops and sent a chill all the way to his heart. “So Sky’s brother, is he one of your eight?”
She nodded. “Twice, I dumped him in the seventh and tenth grade.”
“Care to share?”
“Let’s just say that, hopefully, Sky’s more of a gentleman than his big brother.”
He digested that tidbit then had to ask. “Why’d you go back for seconds?”
She looked away, shrugged, then turned back and locked her eyes on his. “Bad boys have a…” She shook her head. “I don’t know how to explain it. Dewayne Carter is like the most…” Her cheeks flushed red.
“Praise God, you escaped.”
“Yes, absolutely. If we’d been alone in his pickup and not at his birthday party…” She looked away again.
His heart hurt for her, and some for himself, too. He’d never understand how women could be attracted to the bad boys, but it sure was a fact. He’d seen it way more than once. “Do you still…”
She looked back, her cheeks bright cherry red. “No.”
“Good, you hungry?”
She nodded. “What do you want?”
“Whatever, we can pick up something and take it back so you don’t have to cook tonight. DQ makes a mean burger.”
“No, I make a mean burger, but for almost the same money, we can have steak. Celebrate our first day of thirty.”
“Really, where?”
“My house, goof.” She slipped her hand into his and pulled him toward his car.
“Wait, I need to lock up.”
She followed him inside and picked up the Bible she’d read before. “Hey, know what?”
“Maybe, maybe not. What about what?”
“While you showered, I opened the Bible to James, and right there in chapter one was that verse, fifteen or sixteen if I remember, that says every good and perfect gift is from above just like you said, like a confirmation from God that there’s no luck. What do you think about that?”
“Pretty awesome.”
“But I wanted to ask you, it went on saying that they come from the Father of lights. Then it said… something about shadows.” She opened it back up and found the verse. “Here it is. ‘With Whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.’ What’s that supposed to mean? Sounds a little cryptic.”
“Not really, it means God’s gifts are without repentance. Whatever He gives, He never takes back, not for any reason. No variables, doesn’t change His mind or turn from giving the gift.”
She seemed to think on it then turned her head a bit, so cute. “Bless God.”
“Yes, indeed. Bless His holy name.”
From Hopewell to Rehkopf’s Grocery then to her house, every question that came to mind, he decided would be best not to ask. She’d kept herself pure, and that was all that mattered. Once home, he jumped out and ran around and opened her door. She took his hand and held it closer to her eyes in the dying sunlight. “Just as I thought, you do get your nails done.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
FIVE
Uncertainty stabbed Faith. How should she answer? Red River rednecks might call him a dandy, but how could she judge him? She treated herself to regular pedicures, at least in the summer. She just smiled, grabbed one of the grocery bags then hurried inside, kissed her daddy hello, and went to cooking.
Bless God for microwaves, not quite as good as a tater baked in the oven, but almost if slathered with enough butter and sour cream. Sprinkle on chopped green Os and shredded cheddar, and she could eat ‘em for breakfast, dinner, and supper! They’d been her favorite after-school snack all through her junior and senior years.
Exactly twenty-two minutes start to finish, she served baked potatoes, pan fried steak garnished with grilled squash, tomatoes, onions, and jalapeno spears. The nice little side salad set it all off, but Asa didn’t eat ranch. How was it everyone loved ranch dressing? He liked thousand island. Weird, but he’d picked up a bottle figuring she wouldn’t keep it. Who did anymore?
Sure did enjoy how much he raved about her cooking, almost made her blush. But really, had he ever got to eat home-cooked in his whole life? Well, meals here and there of course, but probably never on a regular basis. Poor baby.
He swallowed the last bit of medium rare beef, washed it down with several big gulps of sweet tea, then gave her a monster grin. “That was…” He closed his eyes and scrunched his shoulders. “Maybe the best steak I’ve ever eaten.”
“Oh my goodness, I’m going to have to take you to Texarkana for dinner at the Texas Roadhouse.”
After an hour visitin’ by the woodstove with her daddy, she found herself alone on the front porch with her… What was he, really? A suitor? That worked for now. She liked him well enough, but would that last for the next fifty-plus years? Thirty days should give her a much better feel for him, especially spending every day together.
“Sure appreciated all your hard work today. Getting it all done wou
ld have probably taken me the better part of three days.”
He held his hand palm up and studied it then gave it to her to inspect. “Thank you.”
She took it. “Guess you worked up some blisters. Got any gloves?” The warmth from earlier at the church wasn’t there, but… Shaking his head no, he rolled his hand over and grasped hers. The man tugged gently, hiked his eyebrows up and down so cute like a six-year-old, and cocked his head a bit.
“See? Give you one little goodnight kiss, and then you want one every night.” She let him pull her in, softly pressed her lips against his with her eyes closed for at least half a minute, then leaned back. “Six?”
“Six o’clock? Or five more kisses? Can I pick?”
“No.” She put her hand on his chest; bless God. His heart thumped around in there like a red headed woodpecker chasing a beetle. Sounded like it may come right through his breastbone. “Go home, Asa Davidson. The rooster crows earlier in these parts.”
“Yes, ma’am. Guess it’s time to pray then?”
“Sure.” She held his hands and bowed her head and started right in. “Father, thank You for this day. Thank You for sending Asa to help. Thank You for Daddy’s good day. Keep him comfortable and ease the coughin’, Lord.”
“Thank You for bringing me to Red River County, Father, especially right when this lovely young daughter of Yours was needin’ a husband and then making me aware of it. Still, in this and every situation, not my will, but Yours be done. Give us a good day tomorrow and bless the congregation at New Hope. In Jesus’ name. Oh, and go before me to the Carters’, Lord, pave the way, get their hearts ready. Amen.”
“Amen.” He was a good pray-er, easy-like, real relaxed talking to God like He was a friend.
He backed down the steps, his eyes glued on hers. “Faith, I want you to know how excited I am about this whole deal. Thank you for giving me a chance. The more I think on it, the more perfect it seems. Hope you’re likin’ it well enough.”
“No complaints. I enjoyed the day, having your company, counseling with you. It’s funny how people are all ready to spill their guts to a perfect stranger just because he’s ordained a minister. You ever think of it like that?”
“Not me. I studied to show myself approved, so it’s what I expect. What’s on for tomorrow?”
“Regular chores. They’re all pretty much every day, seven days a week, and we need to get that firewood stacked.” She smiled back. “Best get on home.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He took one last look then jumped in his Corolla and took off.
After she tucked her father in with his last pill of the day, she knelt beside her bed. “Oh Lord, what have I gotten myself into? If I don’t marry that man, it’s going to break two hearts, his and Daddy’s. Help me, Father; show me the path you want me to take.”
Then like most nights, if she dreamed, she didn’t remember. And following the restful sleep, like most mornings, she woke with the first crow. How many times had she threatened that rooster with a Sunday dinner if he didn’t start sleeping later than four? However, she enjoyed her peaceful, quiet mornings. And he didn’t understand English, and she didn’t speak chicken.
Asa showed early. She put him to work peeling potatoes and carrots for that night’s crockpot roast. His willingness to do whatever she needed pleased her, but couldn’t really decide whether that was a totally good thing. Did it make him a girly-man? A henpecked rooster? Bless God, he sure seemed red-blooded enough.
Maybe growing up with so many other boys and only one house mother…
“Took me an extra long hot shower and half a tube of Icy Hot to get going this morning.”
She glanced over. He had a nice smile. “No mercy, preacher man. The stock can’t feed themselves, and that firewood needs stacking.”
“No, I was just saying… Wanted to give you ample warning that I might be moving a bit slower today.” He chuckled. “I always thought cows just ate grass, that was their job, and they all worked pretty steady at it.”
“Understandable. Good thing it’s only a half-day, I suppose. What are you preaching on tomorrow?”
“I don’t know yet, got any ideas?”
She flipped his over-easy eggs in the air and caught them in the pan. “What about that scripture in James? Maybe talk about that some, especially the part about God not ever taking back his gifts. I hadn’t ever heard that before, and it’s really cool to know.”
“I could do that, any other suggestions?”
“I don’t know, let me think on it.” She pulled a pan of biscuits out of the oven. “Want to get Daddy? Everything’s ready.”
More praise for her cooking, even though the meal repeated yesterday’s. Would she ever get used to it? Or tire of it? Daddy never complimented her cooking. Then, granted, a bit slower at first, Asa proved to be a ready and willing helper. Didn’t flinch one bit at mucking the stalls or loading the wood he’d cut and split yesterday onto the one-ton.
Bless God, if only hard work was enough, the man just might be her perfect mate, but the month was still young, and time would tell. At least she hoped it would. She hoped and prayed she would know clearly what to do after the next twenty-eight days. Maybe she should stop kissing him goodnight, and see how he did then.
Midmorning, her daddy’s whistle froze her, flipped her heart, then sent it to racing. She found herself and ran for the barn’s man-door, but a second alert didn’t come, and she slowed. He stood on the porch holding onto the corner post. By the time she got within earshot, Asa jogged beside her.
“Something wrong, Daddy?”
Asa passed her. “Need something, Mister Johnson?
He shook his head. “Thought we agreed you were going to call me Dad.” His breathless voice carried a hint of fear and a lot of pain. He nodded to the house then turned and made his way inside. She found him in his chair next to the stove. She really needed to keep her cell with her. Maybe spring for one of those special unbreakable, waterproof cases.
“What is it? Why’d you whistle us up?”
“Stacy called. Junior’s got a line on a dozen colts, all of them long twos, but he’s only…” He held his hand up, filled his lungs, then continued. “He’s only got time for four. Wants to know how many you can take. If any.” His voice lowered to almost a whisper. “Transport’s leaving this afternoon; he needs to call the guy back pretty quick with drop-off instructions.”
She looked at Asa. Would he be any help? “You ride?”
“Not much, what’s a long two?”
“Two-and-a-half years or older, but less than three. Willing to learn?”
Hands offered palms up, coupled with his little boy’s shoulder scrunch told her he’d be up to most anything, but would he be any help? “Sure, whatever you need.”
She nodded, considering the possibilities. The extra money sure would be a big blessing. Might be biting off more than she could chew, but with Asa’s help, she could handle the other eight. She retrieved her cell, and gave Stacy a call back. Once he confirmed the money, she agreed to take the other eight.
She touched her phone off and smiled at her father, then the preacher. “They’ll be here sometime Monday afternoon; we’re getting two hundred a head, plus three dollars a day for keep.”
“Wow, that’s good, Faith, right?”
“It sure is. Really good. I’d have done if for a buck fifty and no extra for keep.”
Halfway to the barn, he stepped ahead of her, spun around, and took to walking backward. “It’s that good habit of yours.”
She stopped. “What are you talking about?”
Another backward step, he stopped on a nickel then drew near. Rather graceful, did the man dance? Thought he was a Baptist, and Baptists didn’t dance, well, least that’s what the old timers claimed. “You blessing God all the time, that’s such a great practice. He just gave you an extra four hundred dollars plus the feed money. No way we can outdo the Lord. You bless Him all the time, so He’s blessing you.”
“Think so?”
“Well, sure. You’re blessed, right?” He let his little-boy grin out. It struck her that more so than the extra dollars coming in, Asa was her bigger gift from God. His help, and company, the encouragement and praise he offered. The jury was still out, of course. Either way, his free labor was certainly a blessing, and she could already see working by his side longer than thirty days.
“No doubt about that.” She grinned at him. “Come on. We stand here much longer, we’ll have to skip dinner.”
Exactly like she planned it that morning, she fixed dinner while he stacked the firewood, but it didn’t make a whole cord, and the way her daddy already burned the heater night and day, she might need another two cords even if the winter was just regular; a bad one could eat up three or four more.
Then after dishes and getting her father his midday pill, she found herself on the porch with the preacher one more time.
“How far’s Manchester from here?”
“Eight, maybe ten miles.”
“How to do I get to the Carter’s place?”
She told him, repeated the directions once then he seemed to have it. Without any forethought, she blurted out, “Call me when you leave there.” Where had that come from? Did it have anything to with him going to DeWayne’s house?
“Better yet, how about I come back here and take you out tonight?”
She glanced at the house then shook her head. “Better not.”
“Miss Iris told me she’d be happy to brother-sit anytime.”
“When did you talk to Auntie?”
“Right after I got the wood stacked, while you were fixing lunch. Excuse me, dinner.”
“What about studying? Don’t you need to get ready for tomorrow?”
“You’ve already helped me with the hard part; the rest shouldn’t take too long.”
“How do you feel about boot scooting?”
“What’s that?”
She smiled. Should she even go there? Might give the man a heart attack. “Two-stepping, you know, kicking up your heels. Dancing.”
