To Know Her by Name (21 page)

“Longmont is not Denver, Pup,” he felt the need to remind her, his voice a bit tolerant.

“Can you really be so naive, McKay?” Her voice was still soft, but she was making her point. “With train travel and telegraph lines, the territory's not that big anymore. I can't
ever
let my guard down. Not with strangers on the street and not with kind people like your parents.”

“My parents would never talk.”

“McKay, think about what you just said. Why would you ever want to put them in that position?”

He had no answers for that. They stood for a long time and just stared at each other. McKay was not sorry he'd brought Pup—not even slightly—but she was right, there were aspects to her life that had never even crossed his mind.

“They didn't come down with you,” Liz asked as soon as Harry appeared back in the kitchen.

“No,” his voice was thoughtful. “They're in Maureen's room.”

“They didn't see you come up?”

“The door is closed.”

This widened Liz Harrington's eyes a little, but she didn't immediately comment.

“She's so quiet,” Harry commented.

“Yes, she is,” Liz couldn't help but agree. “Do you think it's us, Harry?”

“No, Liz, I honestly don't. I think Mickey must have thought this would be best for her, but not everything works the way we think it should.”

“You don't think she'll stay?”

“I can't honestly say, but I wouldn't be too surprised if she didn't.”

They both heard steps on the stairs, so conversation ceased. There was no need for their silence; McKay came back into the kitchen on his own.

“I came upstairs to check on you, Mickey,” his father began right away. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “I think things are fine. Don't worry if she's on the quiet side. She's like that.”There was something in McKay's face and voice that told them he was disturbed, but neither one of his parents questioned him. Pup joined them a few minutes later, and the meal was eaten with light conversation. Pup enjoyed it immensely but caught McKay's eyes on her a number of times. She kept her sigh very quiet, but she knew it was going to be a long week.

I told her I didn't have an agenda, Lord, but maybe that's not true. I just thought it would do her such good to get away. I thought she could relax and feel at home. I don't love to be alone all the time, so I have a hard time believing that she does.

McKay was in bed, his eyes on the ceiling. He'd been lying there for more than an hour, but sleep was miles away. He had to give Pup over to the Lord, but it was not going very well.

Why am I so disappointed that she can't just toss the past away and be Callie Jennings here, Lord?
McKay sighed.

It had all seemed so easy. She hadn't jumped at the chance to come, but he had managed to bring her. After that, everything else was supposed to fall into place. She was going to laugh and joke with his parents as she did with Nick and Camille Wallace, and they were all going to have a splendid time. Like so many other lonely people in the Longmont area, she was going to see the Harrington home as a safe and wonderful haven.

I have to give this to You, Lord. I have to surrender my will to Yours. I may change my mind later, Father, but don't listen to me. Take Pup, take me, and take the whole situation. Have it be what You want it to be. I'm trying to play God, and You don't need my help. Cleanse me, Lord, from pride and stubbornness, and help me trust again.

McKay was finally able to relax. It helped that he was home in his own bed and bedroom. And it also helped that his favorite hymn came to mind. He sang it to himself as he drifted off to sleep.

McKay didn't have to ask Pup to join them for church in the morning. She was up, dressed in one of her good dresses, and ready to go before he was. She sat at the kitchen table, coffee in front of her, and turned from gazing out the window when he arrived.

“Hi,” he said softly. “You're up early.”

Pup smiled. “I hope it was all right for me to put coffee on.”

“Certainly. In this house the first one up does it anyhow.”

McKay poured himself a cup and joined her.

“What time do we leave for church?”

“Not for a few hours yet. It starts at 10:30.”

“Is it far?”

“Back into town, but it's on this side.”

“I don't have a Bible,” she told him.

“You can use mine,” he offered.

Pup nodded and drank some more of her coffee. She surprised him by saying quietly, “I had a job one time with a man who was religious. He always kept a Bible on his desk. I read some of it the summer I was there.”

“What did you think?”

“I thought it was wonderful,” she shocked him by saying. “It's my own stupid fault that I never bought a Bible of my own.”

McKay's heart was pounding, but he managed to keep his voice normal. “What part of the Bible did you enjoy the most?”

Pup really smiled now. “The stories about Jesus Christ.” She shook her head in wonder. “I was always a little amazed at how many people didn't think He was God. It was so clear to me.”

Not in a hundred years would McKay have dreamed that things would go this way, but he was not going to let this opportunity pass.

“Was it also clear to you, Pup, that you can have a personal relationship with God through His Son?”

Her face was very thoughtful now. She looked at him with sincere eyes and then at some distant spot on the wall. “I had a religious experience once, McKay. I was with my mother, and we'd gone down to Boulder. This was all long before the war. I don't even think there was a church in town. A traveling preacher had come, and he stood on the corner and preached, a Bible in his hand. There were a few people gathered when my mother and I moved close, and to my surprise, my mother stayed. She'd been in a hurry that day, but she took time to hear that man. In fact, when the crowd cleared she held my hand and we went up even closer, right in front of him. I hadn't been paying too much attention up to that point, but then we were face-to-face with this man.

“My mother began to question him, and I'll never forget it,” she stopped and looked at McKay in wonder. “He had tears in his eyes. He said that Jesus loved us so much that He didn't care who we were or what we'd done; He died for our sins. He looked at my mother and asked her if she wanted to believe. I remember thinking, ‘Ask me, ask me,' but I couldn't say a word. And then it happened.” She paused then, her voice so filled with wonder that she might have been that child again.

“He turned to me and said, ‘And how about you, little one? Jesus is waiting for your prayer too.' I'll never forget it. And I did it, McKay. I told Jesus I was a sinner and asked Him to save me.” Pup's eyes grew distant again and a little sad. “But I don't know how to pray. I haven't been to church much, and I only read the Bible that one summer so many years ago. I don't suppose it really took.”

“Callie,” McKay spoke, his voice hoarse. She turned to find him staring at her. “I've been a follower of Jesus Christ for many years, and I've also spent many years studying the Bible. You can believe what I'm about to tell you.”

Pup nodded and watched him, utterly captivated by what she saw in his face.

“That day, if you sincerely believed Jesus Christ died for you and that you needed Him to save you from your sins, then it took, Callie; it took. You're a born-again child of the King, and nothing will ever take that away. I won't tell you that once you're saved it doesn't matter what you do, but if you reached out in childlike faith, Callie, then God made you His for all of eternity.”

“Do you think so, McKay?”

“Yes, I do. I believe it with all my heart. If there's any doubt in your mind, Callie, and you want to pray again, I'd be happy to help you, but I do believe that nothing can take us from God's hand.”

Her eyes were intent on him, but McKay didn't think she was really focusing. “There was a verse I remember, McKay. I think it was in John. Something about no one snatching us from the Father's hand.”

“I know the one. It's in John 10. Shall I get my Bible and show you?”

“No,” Pup told him, but her voice was not defiant. “I remember it now, it says that God's hand is even greater than His Son's. I read the book of John several times that summer. I know the one I'm thinking of.” She surprised him by standing. “I might want to see that verse later, McKay, but right now I need to take a little walk.”

“All right. If you need me, Callie, don't hesitate.”

“Thanks, McKay,” she said sincerely. She paused. “Thanks for everything.”

With that she was gone. McKay heard the front door open and shut, but he didn't move. Indeed, he was still sitting in the same place when his father entered the room many minutes later looking for hot coffee.

18

“I haven't done enough of this,” Pup whispered quietly to God. She walked until she reached the lake and then stood very still, her eyes on the mirrorlike surface. “I remember talking to You as a child, but I just stopped. I didn't know it could be like this. I didn't know I could be so certain. I remember now. I remember so much of what I read that summer in Denver.”

She stopped, too full of emotion to go on. Verses and stories came flooding back to her: The lame man who wanted to get into the water, but no one would lift him; the woman who had had five husbands and was living with yet another man; the small man who climbed a tree just to gain a glimpse of Christ. She had gobbled up those stories, but the man she'd been working with had not been like McKay Harrington. He'd been cold and unapproachable. McKay's faith was sincere. And now wasn't her faith, too?

“I've had You all along and not really understood. It was suddenly so clear when McKay talked to me. At times I think I had a grasp, but then I was too busy to pay attention. I want to pay attention now, God. I want to be as sincere as McKay is. I want it to be real this time. I want to tell Nick and Camille. The church at Boulder,” she suddenly said, “I could go there. The one that Travis Buchanan attends. I could start down on Saturday nights and sleep in the woods until morning. I wouldn't look fancy, but that doesn't matter.”