by Danni Roan
“I’m tired, but I’ll be alright.”
“Why don’t you sit down while I take this inside? Then we’ll see what Doc Walker has to say.” He grinned lopsidedly as he guided her to a chair.
Rebecca leaned her head back against the high-backed chair and closed her eyes as the sun burst the rest of the way over the horizon, illuminating the simple barn in red-brown hues.
“Ms. Carol?” Dr. Walker’s voice was a rich baritone and Rebecca snapped her eyes open once more. “You did real fine with that boy in there.” He smiled, running a hand through his thatch of white hair.
“So Billy will be alright?” she asked breathlessly.
“Yes, he’ll be fine with a bit of rest.” The doctor moved toward her. “You look plumb wore out.”
“It was a long night,” Rebecca admitted.
“I’m mighty glad you were here last night.” The old doctor continued, “If you hadn’t been here, I’m not sure that boy would have made it.”
Rebecca’s eyes grew wide in disbelief. “I only did what I knew to do,” she offered, still stunned by his words.
“Maybe so, but Mrs. Stanley had never treated croup before and wouldn’t have known to give the boy ipecac. We don’t see as much of the disease nowadays as before, but it can still be deadly.”
“I’m glad I could help,” Rebecca offered, feeling bemused.
“You did more than help,” the doctor spoke firmly as he patted her shoulder, “you saved that boy’s life.” With a final pat, he turned back to the house and disappeared inside.
“You ready?” Grady’s voice roused her out of a troubled daze. “Doc said to take the buggy home and get some rest. He’ll fetch the horse and rig later at the boarding house.”
“Oh, that’s very kind,” Rebecca, offered lamely.
Grady helped Rebecca into the buggy. She looked tired and was not very steady on her feet. “Doc Walker’s going to sit up with Billy while Mrs. Stanley gets some sleep. Johnnie’s in charge of the other boys,” he spoke as he climbed aboard and shook the reins out.
“I should have said good-bye,” Rebecca started, shocked at her lack of manners.
“No, you should go home and get some sleep,” Grady corrected. “Mrs. Stanley needs to do the same.”
“You have a good point,” Rebecca acquiesced
“I know, I usually do,” the big man chortled, making Rebecca smile.
Grady clicked the horse into an easy trot as they started toward town, but kept an eye on Rebecca as well.
“Something bothering you?” he finally asked as the miles ticked away in silence.
“It’s something the doctor said,” Rebecca confessed, lack of sleep making her head feel fuzzy. “He said if I hadn’t been here, Billy would have died.”
“That’s what he told the Stanley’s as well,” Grady agreed.
“But I only did what I knew how to do.” Her blue eyes blinked at him confused.
Grady Gatlin ran a hand behind his neck as he guided the horse toward town. Rebecca really could not seem to grasp that God had brought her to Biders Clump for a reason.
His big heart squeezed in his chest for a moment as he admitted that he hoped part of the reason might have to do with him.
“Rebecca,” he began, and then faltered.
“Yes.” Her beautiful eyes fell on him and something warm and soft wriggled inside him.
“Do you want to do God’s will?” he finally managed, his voice low.
A small gasp came from the woman next to him, but he refused to look up.
“Grady, what kind of question is that?” she asked, horror in her tone.
“Well if you want to be in His will, then don’t you think you need to trust Him with where he puts you?”
A frosty silence was her first reply, but as the horse’s hooves beat out a steady two-two beat, Rebecca found her words.
“All I ever wanted to do was serve,” Rebecca finally spoke. “To be useful in some way. I thought the mission in Panama was where I belonged.”
“The problem with that is that -you- thought,” Grady said, emphasizing the word ‘you.’ “Sometimes our thoughts aren’t the same as God’s.”
Rebecca rubbed at her tired eyes, Grady’s words buzzing in her head like an angry hornet’s.
“My point is, Rebecca, that if we want to do God’s will and trust him, He’ll put us where he wants us and use us in his own way.”
Rebecca studied the young teacher’s face, his dark hair falling over his forehead in a gentle arch. As his soft brown eyes looked ahead at the road, she could see a smattering of stubble that graced his strong jaw.
Over the past few weeks, Rebecca had found a true friend in Grady. They’d had many good conversations on books and teaching. He had made her laugh and supported her when she was weak.
Her heart tugged toward him and she realized that if she let it, she could find more than a friend in the man.
Still, his words were disturbing, jarring, as they went against all that she had heard throughout her life. A Christian was only as good as their service, work. Usefulness was what counted, wasn’t it?
Rebecca barely realized they’d rolled into town, but when Grady pulled the horse to a stop in front of the boarding house, it was as if she’d come out of a deep sleep.
“I’m too tired to think right now, Grady,” she confessed as he eased himself from the buggy and made his way around to help her down, holding her close for a moment as her feet touched the ground.
“We’ll talk again soon,” he offered, his voice sad. He wished he knew how to help her understand.
“Oh, thank heavens you’re home” Sara sang out opening the front door. “No Grady, you leave the buggy, Rafe can see to the horse,” she continued.
“I’ll come and help with breakfast,” Rebecca said, stepping to the door.
“You’ll do no such thing,” Sara barked, placing her hands on her hips. “You march right up those stairs and get some rest.” She glared at her friend, her green eyes fierce.
Grady could not help but chuckle, earning him an equal portion of the glare.
“Alright Grady?” Rafe asked, walking around the far side of the house.
“Yeah, alright,” Grady said. “And Doc says Billy will be fine,” he added, climbing the stairs and walking meekly past Sara.
Chapter 11
Rebecca rubbed the sleep from her eyes and made her way to the bathroom down the hall. She had done as Sara requested and slept through church, but judging by the sun, services would be letting out soon.
Quickly washing her face and brushing out her hair, she made herself presentable and headed down the stairs at the same time as Sara and Rafe walked through the front door.
“Oh, you’re up,” Sara said with a smile. “How are you feeling? All rested?”
“Yes, much better thank you,” Rebecca answered.
“We came back for the picnic basket,” Rafe confessed. “Sara thought we could check on you as well. Do you want to join us?”
“Yes, do join us,” Sara offered, laying a hand on Rebecca’s arm. “We did all that cooking last night; we might as well enjoy it.”
“Where’s Grady?” Rebecca asked, looking around as if she expected him to materialize out of thin air.
“I don’t know,” Rafe answered. “He came along to church though.”
Rebecca looked at Sara, her bright blue eyes accusing.
“I can’t very well boss a grown man around, now can I?” Sara blushed.
“Why not?” Rafe jibed. “You do it with me all the time.” He squeezed Sara around the waist, chuckling with the joke.
“Do come with us?” Sara asked again.
“Alright,” Rebecca finally agreed.
A moment later the trio were walking back toward the open fields and quiet coves near the church, the large food hamper suspended from Rafe’s arm.
“We didn’t see any of the Stanley’s this morning, but Pastor Dalton said Doc dropped by to say all is well,�
�� Sara chatted as they walked.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Rebecca smiled.
“It’s a good thing you were here to help,” Rafe said. “I’m not sure who the Stanley’s could have called on who knew what to do.”
“I suppose some of the older women could have helped,” Sara said, looking perplexed, “but I don’t think any of us girls ever had that ailment, so I’m not sure Mama would have been of any use.”
“Pa’s housekeeper or Nana over at the Williams’ house might have known what to do.”
“I don’t know who else could have helped,” Sara’s voice was cheerful, “all I know is that Becky was here and saved the day.”
Together they walked past the little white church with its bright red doors and headed toward the stream. The sound of children laughing and playing greeting them as they looked for a good spot to eat in the warm afternoon sun.
***
Grady settled himself in a hard pew for the third time and looked up at the podium at the front of the church. Instead of returning to the boarding house for lunch, he had made a loop around the building, only to find himself back inside the sanctuary once more.
“You got something on your mind, young man?” Pastor Dalton stepped from one of the small rooms at the back of the church. “I was just putting my notes away.”
“Afternoon, Pastor,” Grady greeted, but said no more.
A gentle smile played at the older man’s lips as he made his way to where Grady sat. “I’ve seen that look before young man, so you might as well get out with it.”
The pastor settled his round form on the pew in front of Grady, folded his hands over his stomach and waited.
“I have a friend,” Grady began.
“You mean there’s a girl.” Pastor Dalton’s hard eyes pierced the teacher, making him squirm like a truant student.
“Yes, a woman,” he finally smiled. “I don’t know what to tell her.”
“Have you tried ‘I love you’, son?” The jolly preacher leaned forward, his dark eyes intent.
“It’s not like that,” Grady tried, but caved as a bushy brow rose on the man’s head. “Well it could be like that, too,” he admitted, a warm flush heating his cheeks.
“She isn’t married, is she?” Pastor asked, his expressive brows now beetling.
“No sir,” Grady virtually yelped, “it’s just that she’s a really good person, but she seems to think she doesn’t measure up.”
“She’s thinks you’re too good for her.” The preacher nodded knowingly, jutting his lower lip outward in understanding.
“It’s not that either, I don’t really know how she feels about me. I think she likes me alright though, but the real issue is she seems to think she’ll never measure up to God’s expectations.”
Grady watched, waiting to see what the pastor would say, but for long seconds the older man simply rubbed his chin.
“Works, not faith.” Dalton sprang to his feet and began pacing up and down the aisle. “I see, I see,” he intoned, now deep in thought.
Grady watched as the pastor walked several steps toward the podium, then turned on his heel and marched back the way he would come.
“Did something happen?” the man finally stopped his pacing and asked.
“Yes, I believe so, but it’s not for me to say,” Grady replied.
“It is a tricky one,” the Pastor spoke again. “Faith without works is dead, but only faith can save.” He moved distractedly toward the door then stopped suddenly, looking back at Grady. “You run along now, son,” Pastor Dalton said, studying the red doors. “I’ll think on it for a while.”
Grady rose to his feet feeling like a boy who had been dismissed from his class, but still had no answers. As he walked past the gray-haired pastor, the man reached out and laid his hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure everything will come right, if you just believe.” He grinned, “now go find a nice picnic to distract yourself.”
***
“Ms. Rebecca?” A boy’s voice caught her attention and Rebecca Carol turned to see Toby standing behind her, where she sat on the ground.
“Toby, isn’t it?” she asked, offering a smile.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, twisting a tattered hat in his hand. “I was just wondering if Billy’s gonna be alright?” he asked, his words hurried as they tumbled out.
“Yes Toby, Billy’ going to be alright.” She placed her hand on his wrist, squeezing lightly, and smiled when his eyes lit up.
“I’ll tell the others.” He grinned, racing off toward the grove where the other children played.
Rebecca smiled, looking back at Rafe and Sara where they had been sharing their lunch. “I guess those boys really did make up,” she offered.
“Boys are like that,” Rafe said. “When we get in a tussle, more often than not, we’ll be best friends afterwards. It’s like we have to establish an understanding or something first, then we can get along afterwards.” He shrugged as if that explained everything.
Sara shook her head. “Boys are strange,” she laughed and he chucked her under the chin.
“You should know you were usually running with a whole passel of them, and if I remember right, none of them could climb as high in a tree as you could.” His dark eyes twinkled devilishly.
Rebecca smiled at the young couple and looked about. She wondered where Grady had gotten off to. Perhaps some family had invited him home for Sunday dinner.
“I think I’ll go for a walk,” she finally said. “It’s a beautiful day and perfect for a stroll.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Sara agreed. “We’ll see you back at the house.”
Starting off toward the small pond, Rebecca soon found herself walking through a small stand of old growth trees, their cool shade and quietness refreshing.
It felt like she had walked into a different time where the world she knew no longer existed. Her mind immediately began worrying over Grady’s words from before and she wondered how he could justify his attitude.
Her whole upbringing had honed her to work, to serve, to be useful, but Grady seemed to say that God would use you were ever you were if you were willing. Could it be true?
Could her failure be something that God had allowed instead of punishment for her own weakness?
Somehow, her feet had found their way through the grove and back to the church, its stiff white steeple reaching skyward. Silently she slipped into its peaceful interior and found a seat.
Pastor Dalton stepped out of the small Sunday school room and smiled.
“Oh, is someone here?” he asked, struggling to keep the humor out of his voice. “I was just picking up books.” He indicated the stack in his hands.
“I’m sorry Pastor; I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Rebecca rose from the hard bench.
“No, no, not at all my dear,” he said, waving her back to her seat. “I like to putter about a bit after a service; you never know who might turn up.” His dark eyes flashed, a joke hidden deep in their depths.
“Now what can I do for you?” He took a seat, tugging at the stiff tips of his vest and trying to straighten the straining buttons.
“I…” Rebeca didn’t know where to begin.
“Just start at the beginning,” Pastor Dalton encouraged, patting her hand in fatherly fashion.
As if a tap had been turned on, Rebecca poured out all of her care, concern and confusion, starting with her initial illness and journey back to the States.
“I’m completely inadequate,” she finally said, “but Mr. Gatlin seems to think that as long as I want to serve God I am.” She blinked at the pastor, hoping he could understand her worry. Surely, this man of the cloth would have words of wisdom for her.
“Balderdash!” Pastor Dalton’s expletive made Rebecca jump.
“Excuse me?” Her eyes were wide as she stared at him.
“Poppy-cock,” he said. “All this drivel about being good enough, or not having enough faith. God doesn’t ask you to be good enou
gh already, he makes you better. He’s the only one who can save you.”
Again, Rebecca blinked at him. She understood salvation; that was not an issue. What she was worried about was service.
“Are you familiar with Romans 8?” the preacher asked, his voice a little less intent now.
“Yes, of course,” Rebecca replied. “It speaks of not being a slave to the flesh.”
“That’s right, but it also speaks of grace and faith.” The pastor picked up the thought. “Romans 8:15-16 says; ‘For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God.’ In other words, we are God’s children and we do not earn our salvation through works, but gain it through believing in him.”
The older man studied her face a moment. “If we truly believe that we belong to God, then we have to believe, trust that he will do with us what is best.” He could see that she still was not taking in his words.
“Do you believe that God has a plan for you?” he finally asked, his bushy brows coming together over the bridge of his nose.
“Yes,” Rebecca yelped.
“Are you trying to get away from what he wants of you?” he asked again.
“No,” Rebecca answered again, his agitation beginning to make her nervous.
“Then stop questioning him like some spoiled child and let him use you how he sees fit instead of how you think he should.”
Rebecca opened her mouth to speak, but his words were slowly working their way into her mind and into her heart to join Grady’s.
“Now you’re getting it,” Pastor Dalton smiled, rising to his feet and patting her on her cheek. “You go on home and read over that chapter again. I think you’ll see it a little clearer now.” He settled his gaze on her one more time, “And give that young man a chance.”
“Thank you, Pastor Dalton,” Rebecca said in a small, stunned voice as she headed out the door toward the boarding house, still deep in thought.
She was just passing a small table under a tree when a familiar voice drifted toward her.
