She’d put such emphasis on that last word. As though God would give up everything He had. His power. The entire world He’d created, for Grant.
“Worth His love. Worth His son dying so He could show you exactly how much He loves you. You only have to open yourself enough toreceive that love.”
A burn crept back into his throat, searing him. He swallowed. If only that were true. If only God did care about him even a tiny portion of what Faith had said.
“You only have to openyourself enough to receive that love.”
He lifted his head to look up at the sky above.How do I do that? How do I open myself to you?
He sat there for a long moment. Waiting. Would there be a voice that spoke aloud? A knowing in his mind?
He waited. Listening. There was nothing audible. Nothing that spoke clearly in his mind. But deep inside him, there was ... an easing. Like some of his tension relaxed.
Maybe this was what Faith had meant. He lifted a silent prayer to the heavens.I want to open myself to you.If you’re willing to love me, I want it. I’ll do what you ask. I’ll make myself worthy.
Again, Faith’s words slipped in.“You don’t have to do anything to be worthy of it.”That’s what she’d said, but this timehe didn’t hear her voice in his mind. It was more like a knowing, down in his chest. In his spirit.
He squeezed his eyes closed as emotion welled through him.Is that you, God? Can you really take me the way I am? I want it. I want whatyou’ll give. Your love, if you’ll offer itto a man like me.
The emotion overwhelmed his mind, and he kept his eyes squeezed shut. Absorbing it all. Soaking in this ... this peace. There were no words, but it was more than he’d ever felt.
She’d never seen such joy on Grant’s face.
As Faith watched him now, with his eyes closed tight and his expression nearly glowing with peace and pleasure, she could only think of one thing that might have placed it there.
And she wouldn’t interrupt this moment with the Lord for anything.
Thank you, Father.
After a while, he opened his eyes. Then blinked. She squeezed his hand, the one she’d been holding when she awoke.
He blinked again as he jerked his gaze down to her. His eyes widened, like he was still trying to come back to the present. “Faith?”
She smiled, though her lips were so dry, they cracked with the movement. “Grant.”
He pushed into action, leaning over her, a mixture of worry and wonder taking over his expression. He still held her hand, but with his other, he stroked her hair. “Are you hurt? What happened?”
It took too much energy to remember, so she didn’t try. Her head pounded, and she was so thirsty. “Water.”
“Here.” Steps Right’s voice came from her other side.
Grant reached to take a tin cup from the older woman, then focused on Faith. “Can you sit up a little?”
She squinted against the pain, and with his hand behind her head to help, she lifted enough to drink. The first sip ached—in the best way possible. Her throat burned as the water seeped through the parched places.
She paused to breathe before taking another. This swallow didn’t hurt as much as it soothed. She gulped down a third sip, then a fourth.
The water was clearing her head, so she leaned on her elbow and took the cup from Grant. When she finished the last bit, she handed him the cup and eased back to the ground to take stock of things.
She could remember being tied to a tree....
Steps Right.She turned quickly to find the woman, but the sudden movement sent flashes of light and pain through her skull. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed a hand to her face. But she had to know if the older woman was hurt. “Steps Right?” Her voice came out a mumble, but it must have been loud enough.
A hand rested on her shoulder. “I am here. Rest. Eat.”
Her belly didn’t feel like it could handle food, but Grant’s voice rumbled from her other side. “You probably need a good broth, but that will take a while to make. Pemmican will help for now.”
Maybe she could manage a little. Especially if it would ease the worry in his voice.
