The Rescuer (28 page)

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He raises them. He wants to feed a multitude, He does it. That nine-year-olds sense of panic in your gut wil never ease unless you accept there is someone bigger and more comforting in control. Jesus can watch out for me just fine."

Her eloquence had never been the problem; his doubts were, and he had no answer left to give her. He wanted to lean over and kiss her just to change the subject, then was ashamed of that thought. His struggle over religion wasn't going to be answered with logic. His parents had believed, al the O'Mal eys believed, Meghan did- Logic said he should listen and come to the same conclusion they did, for his respect ran deep for each one of them. But the resistance ran deeper into his emotions and memories, and he did not want to go back into those memories again tonight. He leaned his head against hers. Her hand crept around his waist and she leaned back. And for once Blackie didn't interrupt.

He let himself kiss her, felt the jolt of her surprise, and deepened the kiss, drawing her closer. Years of history with Meghan and he'd never imagined something this sweet.

Meghan broke off their kiss and pressed her hand against his chest. "You're going to break my heart," she whispered. "Don't do this. I already made my choice. If I had to make it again, I'm sorry but you'd lose."

"I know." He eased back. "And I'm not going to put you in that position. I'l give us both some space." He watched her touch her lips, and the softness in her smile was enough to become a priceless memory of this night. "Could I ask a favor?"

"Sure."

He asked it fast, while he thought she might say yes.

"I'd like you to remove yourself from the jewelry search.

I don't want to worry about your getting into trouble with the same idiot who broke into my barn. My heart can't take it, Meg."

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"Please. I know it's a big favor, but do it for me. Put your focus back on the nursing work at the clinic and let Kate and Dave deal with the search."

She rubbed his arm. "I can't. Someone was in my house last

week."

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Stephen studied al the doors from the kitchen to the garage, looking for any signs of tampering. He tightened the doorknob screws until the Phil ips head screwdriver began to strip the metal, his anger simmenng just below the surface. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

Meghan circled her finger around the coaster on the kitchen table, not looking over at him. "I thought it was my just misplacing things."

Someone in her place... He had felt guilty about keeping a secret from her about what had happened when he was nine years old and she'd been hiding this.

"What else besides the earring is missing?"

"A bag of chips I bought. I checked: It was on my grocery receipt, I know I put the bag away in the cupboard, and it's gone." She shifted in her chair and leaned down to rub Blackie's back. "And I think some cash is missing, but it's hard to tel how much. It's probably a kid. I could have lost the earring, but why take only one earring and not two?"

Stephen didn't want to scare her to death, but what if she real y had someone watching her, someone feeling comfortable coming and going from her house, taking items to keep as mementos and putting her off balance...? Stephen looked at the dog. Blackie would take a man down if he thought Meghan was threatened. That was the one point of comfort in this.

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Maybe it was a kid; the chips would suggest that.

Maybe she had simply lost one of the earrings. Maybe she had miscounted the cash. There were a lot of maybes... "Has Blackie ever acted unusual when you got home?"

"No. And you know he would if anyone was here. He's very territorial. When we get home I let him run around the yard or he prowls through the house. At a minimum he's going to bark like mad when he senses something is wrong, get his back up, and stand between potential danger and me. He's trained for it, and it's also his nature."

Stephen walked past Meghan into the living room. He checked the front door. There was no sign of tampering. If someone was stealing from her, how were they getting in? He checked the windows. The alarm system was good-it would catch a door or window opening. "What's down in the basement?"

"Darkness." She smiled. "It's a place I rarely go because the stairs are narrow and steep. It's also concrete with a lot of odd things to touch such as the furnace and the hot-water heater. The door is by the utility room."

"Any windows down there?"

"Just two smal eight-inch half windows at ground level."

Stephen opened the door to the basement, turned on the light switch, and found the bulb had good wattage.

"I'l take a look."

"I'm staying right here."

He found the basement sparse; the water heater, furnace, and sump pump were in the east corner. The windows had a reassuring layer of cobwebs and accumulated dirt on the panes. The lighting was good, and he inspected the stairs while he was there, looking for any signs they were weakening or that the banister had loosened in case Meghan ever needed to come down here. He walked back upstairs, shut off the light, and closed the door. "The basement looks fine. How do you get into the attic?"

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"Stephen, that's not necessary."

"Then it wil just take a couple minutes to confirm it."

She led the way down the hal and stopped by the linen closet, then pointed up. "The ladder tugs down."

He opened the access panel and went up to check the attic. There wasn't much clearance and one glance told him based on the layer of dust that nothing around the access door had been disturbed in months if not years.

"Everything okay?"

"It's okay." He closed the access door. Meghan stood in the hal way, arms crossed, leaning against the wal , a combination of weariness and uncertainty in her expression. "I'm adding my phone number to that list of automatic dials the alarm system makes."

She nodded.

"I want your word you'l let Blackie go into the house ahead of you, and if there's anything at al you question that is missing, moved, or just doesn't feel right, you'l cal me."

"You've got my word."

He reached out and ran his hand down her arm. "Then I'l let this rest."

"The alarm system is good, and I've got Blackie.

There's Mace in the bedside table, a phone in the bathroom, and good locks on that door if I decide I have to bolt somewhere. I'm not letting a possibility drive me out of my own home."

"I'l worry about you anyway."

She half smiled. "At least I didn't acquire a black eye."

He leaned over and planted a quick kiss on her lips, unable to resist that smile. "I'm going home."

Stephen walked his land, not bothering to try to sleep for the remaining hours of the night. The precious idiot.

She didn't think

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it was worth mentioning that something felt wrong at her home. She was blind, but she had moved so far beyond it in how she structured her life that it took nights like tonight to remind him just how vulnerable she was to trouble. At least with Blackie and that alarm system this was contained. She real y was invading his heart. What was he going to do now?

&

I'm in over my head.

It wasn't his job this time; it was his personal life, or lack thereof. And what he had to do now was intensely more complex. He wanted what was best for Meghan.

Her faith had al owed her to survive being blind and was the foundation of the peace in her life. She felt incredibly loved by her God, but he wasn't on speaking terms with her best friend.

The bind he put Meghan in because of that was huge.

He wanted to deny it was that big of a deal. God was spirit, and it shouldn't be that big a deal if he knew Him or not, but Stephen was kidding himself. She'd made the right choice by saying it was an insurmountable problem. She wouldn't be able to talk freely about God and share that bond with him. If he fel in love with a lady who wasn't on speaking terms with one of the O'Mal eys, it would have ripped him apart trying to choose between them.

He was already feeling the stress of being the only holdout in a family of Christians. There was a growing sense of a distance because he just didn't get it. He hated that void. They were working so hard not to let the relationship change, and yet it was happening. He wanted to belong. He'd been searching for that his whole life-in his profession, his family-and al he knew for certain was that he hadn't found the perfect answer yet. Maybe it was God who fil ed that void. The other O'Mal eys thought so.

He looked at the land he cal ed home and the stars displayed overhead.

"I don't know what to say to You."

He stopped walking. He'd just acknowledged that there was

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someone there to listen to his words, whom he expected to respond. He'd spoken without thinking, and now it was out there lingering as if there was someone listening. Maybe a relationship with God might be personal, even for him.

He couldn't think of anything to say.

He started walking again.

Meghan and his family al had personal relationships with God that were enviable for their closeness. He had friends whom he knew in a distant kind of way, enough to cal them friends even if he didn't hang out with them twenty-four/seven. And he had friends like the O'Mal eys whom he could count on with absolute confidence they would always be there if he needed anything.

"Which kind of friendship is this going to be, God? I can't make the choice on Your side. Distant or close?

For years I've avoided knowing You for the simple reason that I don't want a distant relationship, struggling to meet Your expectations and never quite feeling accepted. My family expects a lot of me, but they give me plenty in return. You are a high expectations God. I've read the verses: 'Be holy, for I am holy' and 'Love your enemies.'"

Stephen hesitated. Was it okay to be bluntly honest with God? Or were you supposed to be polite for a while and diplomatic? This was not as straightforward as Meghan claimed. Al he real y knew how to be was himself, and that meant blunt honesty. "I'm afraid to take the step to be a Christian. I know what is expected of me, but I don't know if I can meet it. So what do we do now?"

It felt odd to talk aloud., alone, as he walked the property, but he remembered his mom praying aloud at dinner, and he'd feel even sil ier stopping and closing his eyes. "Kate says she figured out the ground on the other side of believing is safe, that it's the relationship that makes believing work. I'l admit I'd like to understand what she meanis."

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He stopped at the fenced-in area where his sheep were lying down for the night and leaned against the railing, finding peace just looking at the animals. He had come to love them. The baby goat was a splotch of gray with a white streak curled up, sleeping and dreaming if that was what baby goats did at night.

Either he found peace with the God Meghan cal ed her best friend or...what? To stay and let the emdfions grow between them when they were at an impasse would just hurt them both. And he couldn't handle being the one to hurt Meghan. He was fal ing in love with her.

There were no good options.

He walked back to the house, not sure what he should do next. The house was quiet, and he went through the rooms turning off lights and checking locks, then headed back to his bedroom.

He pushed off his boots and stretched out atop the bedspread and out of habit reached for Jennifers Bible. He turned pages in it absently, having already read through Luke. He felt as though he were eavesdropping at times as he read Jennifer's notes and what she had underlined. Meghan was right. They were echoes of a conversation Jennifer had been having with God.

He turned to where he had left the bookmark in the book of John. He'd spoken his piece tonight, and Meghan said God did His talking primarily through His Word. He didn't understand what she meant when she said the Bible was a living book, that the words "carne alive." What he'd read so far was interesting, but it was ancient history. Since the New Testament was Jesus'

biography, he started reading in John.

As the father has loved me, so have I loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you wil abide in my love, just as 1 have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love. These 257

things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be ful . This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. No longer do I cal you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have cal ed you friends, for al that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you.

Stephen turned the Bible to read Jennifer's note written in the margin in her flowing handwriting. The great love relationship for eternity; mine; so much joy!

She'd lived her last year with a joy that he'd had a hard time understanding given the cancer she fought. Her note was dated a month before she died. Jennifer's joy had come from within.

He read again the verse she'd underlined. Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. He knew what that verse meant, and more than just theoretical y. Of al the emergency cal s he had answered as a paramedic, the most heartbreaking were those where someone had died trying to rescue a friend. It spoke of a love so deep that person's own safety no longer mattered, of a wil to help so strong that no obstacle would stop them even if it meant rushing into a burning building or a col apsing structure.

It was an absolute love that had no limits. Did Jesus offer to be a friend like that?

Hope stirred.

He rol ed onto his back and looked toward the ceiling, imagining the stars above the house and the vastness of that vista he'd been walking under a few minutes ago. "Jesus, I didn't understand why You would come to the earth, die on a cross, and then walk out of a tomb.

But maybe now I'm beginning to. The laying down Your life for another-I understand that. I know in my 258