The Inheritance (49 page)
McKenna was grinning too, until Wyatt pulled her close. Seeing the desire in his eyes sparked her own, and she slipped a hand beneath his vest to finger a button on his shirt. “I’ve missed you, Mr. Caradon.” No longer
Marshal
, and she was so thankful.
His hand moved lower down her back, pressing her closer against him. He smiled. “I think I’ve warned you before, ma’am”—his gaze went from her eyes to her mouth—“about looking at a man that way when he can’t do anything about it.”
Remembering the first day he’d said that to her, McKenna cradled the back of his neck and drew his face down to hers. “Then I suggest, sir, that you do something about it. Right quick.”
And he did.
N
early fifteen years ago, on a wintry Colorado day, I dropped our only son off for another morning of kindergarten. I don’t remember the exact day, but it had to have been late October because I
do
remember that I planned to head home after work and finish sewing Halloween costumes. I say “late” October because sewing (especially Halloween costumes, or anything other than a garment that requires straight hems) has always been something I’ve put off for as long as possible. My skills are sorely lacking in the sewing department.
While our son usually enjoyed kindergarten, on that particular day, for some reason, he was hesitant for me to leave. But we finally made the separation and I headed on to my job as a secretary at our nearby church (my hat goes off to every church secretary out there! While rewarding, it can be an endless and often times thankless job). I was almost to work when I remembered something I needed to get from home.
Since we didn’t live far, I turned around and headed back home as it began to snow. After retrieving what I needed, I retraced my path to work. On the way, I saw a child—all bundled up against the cold, chin tucked against the wind—walking up the sidewalk adjacent to a high traffic four-lane road that ran in front of the school. A semi-truck rumbled up the road, gaining speed.
What kind of mother would let a child that young walk this busy road all by himself? And why wasn’t the poor child in school? Slowing my car, I huffed to myself, “Parents need to make sure their children are safely inside the school building instead of just dropping them off and then driving awa—”
The little boy looked up, and my heart stopped. The child was mine! And
I
was that mother.
My son saw me and started toward the curb. I stopped my car in the middle lane, watching the approaching semi barreling down the road. I got out of the car and yelled at my son to stay where he was. Not to move. I could tell he’d been crying. He took another step toward the road, almost to the curb now. Couldn’t he hear the oncoming truck?
I screamed again for him to stay right he was. The truck’s horn blasted, and my son froze. For a few terrifying seconds, the semi passed between us and I couldn’t see him. I waited— heart in my throat—for that truck to pass. And I prayed he would still be standing on the curb on the other side.
He was.
I ran over and grabbed him, hugged and kissed him, shook him, hugged and kissed him and shook him some more, crying along with him now. Turns out, he’d left his “show and tell” item at home and had gone back to get it (without telling the teacher, of course). Never mind that he didn’t have a key to the house or that it was freezing outside.
As I carried him back to the car, I heard an inaudible confirmation inside me. It wasn’t even a voice really. No words that I remember. I simply recall that I knew a prayer I’d been praying had been answered. I was thankful beyond words that I’d “just happened” to forget something that morning, and that the Lord had nudged me to turn my car back toward home. I shudder to think what might have happened had I not come upon my little boy as he trudged along that busy highway.
And the answer to my prayer? I’d been asking God to make me more grateful for what I had in my life and to break me until I was wholly (and holy) His. I’m not saying God led my son out there that day into the cold to teach me a lesson. But I am saying that God used that incident to answer my prayer, in a big way.
The theme of this book is brokenness and it’s a theme God has been working on in my life, and in my heart, for a very long time. A broken and contrite heart, the Lord will not despise, the psalmist says in Psalm 51. I so wish I were already “there” in this respect, but I still have so far to go. So much to surrender and so much yet to entrust to Him. But He’s shaping me, bit by bit, step by step, day by day.
So my continued prayer—perhaps along with you now—is
break me, Lord, until I’m wholly yours.
Until next time,
Tamera Alexander
N
ote to readers: As would be expected in a discussion guide, crucial plot points and events are revealed in the following questions. So if you haven’t finished reading
The Inheritance
and don’t wish to have these “surprises” spoiled, you might want to skip reading the group guide until you have.
1. When you first glimpsed the title
The Inheritance
, what’s the very first thing you thought of? An earthly inheritance? Or a spiritual one?
2. McKenna Ashford is a woman who’s been handed a lot of responsibility early in life. She didn’t ask for it, and she hasn’t handled it all well. Can you identify with some of her struggles in the story—her anger, her confusion—and the question of “why” God has allowed these to happen in her life?
3. In Chapter Five, McKenna is faced with a situation she hadn’t anticipated and one that pushes her to the brink. Have you ever experienced a “domino effect” of stressful events in your life? How did you get through it? How does John 16:33 speak to this?
4. The last three paragraphs of Chapter Five describe a deep friendship that has stood the test of time, and that—even though interrupted for a time—will last throughout eternity. Have you ever experienced a friendship like this? If yes, what made that friendship so special and how did it change your life?
5. In Chapter Eight, McKenna must explain “death” to Emma (five years old). Do you agree with how she chose to explain what happened to Emma’s mother? How might you have explained things differently?
6. In Chapter Nine, Wyatt Caradon fulfills a promise he made to Janie Talbot. This event in the book was taken from an actual historical account. If Janie had made this request of you, would you have done it?
7. McKenna’s relationship with her brother, Robert, is a dysfunctional one, for many reasons. In Chapter Thirteen we get a glimpse (in their argument) of just how dysfunctional it is. What happens in this chapter with Emma? And what would you say is the
biggest underlying issue for Robert and McKenna?
8. McKenna finds an unexpected and unlikely friend in Chin Mei, a Chinese woman she meets (in Chapter Fourteen) for the second time. Have you ever had a “fated” friendship? One that seemed prearranged by God from the very beginning? Someone with whom you felt an instant kinship? Describe what that felt like and how you met that person.
9. Wyatt’s life crosses that of Robert Ashford, and Wyatt sees himself in the young man. In Chapter Twenty-Three and Twenty-Four, he intentionally chooses not to intervene in a situation with Robert. Do you agree with Wyatt’s decision? And have you ever known someone like Robert Ashford who seems to have an unquenchable need to prove him/herself, almost to their destruction? Where do you believe these feelings, these needs stem from? And how would you attempt to help someone like this?
10. Like many of us, McKenna faces significant financial struggles amidst her emotional challenges. Have you ever faced financial struggles similar to this degree where the future seemed so bleak, you didn’t know what to do or where to turn next? What was your greatest source of comfort through this time?
11. As McKenna faces challenges, she’s determined to not “be broken” by them. When she first stated that desire (to remain strong and not be broken), what was your reaction to her determination? Did you cheer for her—or cringe for her? How did her character change as she came to see that brokenness was what God was trying to achieve in her heart all along? How does that lesson change our perspectives in our own lives?
12. McKenna has to learn how to love her brother, Robert, with a “tough love,” something Wyatt Caradon’s father taught him long ago. Have you ever had to love someone with “tough love?” A love that literally hurt you inside as you made choices that you knew were best for that person but that were extremely difficult to make and to carry out. How did you find the strength to make those choices? And what were they?
13. In Chapter Twenty-Six, Wyatt reflects on his own life and on what McKenna has told him about her and Robert’s parents and their background. In a paragraph that begins with, “Knowing about their parents shed some light for him on Robert’s poor choices . . .” he likens the varying situations that people are born into to a game a poker. He concludes, “It wasn’t the hand a person was dealt that determined the outcome—it was the person holding the cards that made the difference.” What choice had he made with the life he’d been dealt? What choice have you made?
14. McKenna wants so badly for Robert to succeed that she steps in to shield him from failure, again and again. Casey Trenton, the livery owner, finally calls her hand on this (in Chapter Twenty-Seven) when he says, “I means that’s a tall order . . . guaranteeing another person’s word. I have a hard enough time keeping my own, much less somebody’s else’s.” This is a turning point in McKenna’s perspective. Have you ever struggled, perhaps with your own children, in wanting to shield them from life? How did you learn this lesson and learn to “let go?”
15. Wyatt recognizes a pride in McKenna, one that he’s seen in himself. In Chapter Twenty-Nine, in the paragraph that begins with, “She had a streak of pride in her, but it wasn’t one of vanity,” he reflects on “good pride” and “bad pride.” Do you agree with his assessment? Is there a “good” kind of pride? And how has pride impacted choices in your life?
16. In Chapter Thirty-Two, Robert inadvertently “confesses” to Wyatt about events that happened in St. Joseph. It’s clear to Wyatt that guilt still weighs Robert down. And rightly so, because Robert hasn’t faced his own issues yet. He’s been denying them, running from them. In light of 2 Corinthians 7:10, what’s the purpose of guilt? And how can guilt be “right” and “wrong?” What’s the outcome of “good guilt” and “bad guilt?”
