Page 45 of Part of Your World

my gracious Redeemer, my Savior art thou;

if ever I loved thee, my Jesus, 'tis now."

Her eyes misted, and her quiet voice trembled. I do love ye, Jesus. So much. I'll not be pretendin' anymore. No lyin', no compromisin' me values to take the easy path. I want to make ye proud.

"I love thee because thou hast first loved me

and purchased my pardon on Calvary's tree;

I love thee for wearing the thorns on thy brow;

If ever I loved thee, my Jesus, 'tis now."

Guilt slid from her shoulders as she visualized the cross and the man upon it. The Son of God who loved her so much that he willingly endured an agonizing physical death to spare her from a spiritual one. Grace wasn't free. Jesus had paid the price with his blood. Yet he wasn't stingy with his purchase. He lavished it upon all who would draw near enough to accept it. And oh, how she needed it.

Her lips shaped the words of the third verse, while her heart still pondered the wonder of the second. With each phrase, her voice grew a little stronger, and by the time the triumphant fourth verse arrived, her voice matched the strength of her heart. Zane's tenor swelled along with her, and even Grandpa Clem's shaky bass rose in volume, the rich harmonies stirring her soul.

"In mansions of glory and endless delight,

I'll ever adore thee in heaven so bright;

I'll sing with the glittering crown on my brow:

If ever I loved thee, my Jesus, 'tis now."

At the close of the hymn, Muriel's eyes opened and she discovered Brother Crabtree smiling over his shoulder, his gaze pinned to her. Heat rose in her cheeks when she realized her singing must have been far too loud if he had heard her over the choir. Yet there was nothing chiding in his glance, just joy and approval. As if he'd heard not her voice, but her heart.

Muriel's spirit continued to lighten through the remainder of the service. Her problems hadn't disappeared, yet they seemed less daunting after spending time focused on worship instead of worry.

After the service, the people sitting around them struck up conversations, letting her know she'd been missed and asking if she'd be singing with the choir next Sunday. Plenty of curious glances angled in Zane's direction. Never one to be deterred by a little conversatin', as he put it, Grandpa Clem shook hands and made introductions. If anyone recognized the Erickson name, they did a good job of hiding their surprise.

A shadow fell over Muriel as she spoke with Mrs. Harrell. Had a cloud swept over the sun? No cloud, only a large man blocking the light from the window across from her pew. His form was silhouetted by the sunlight behind him, but she didn't need to see the lines etched into his tanned face to recognize him.

"Da." As if she were a girl of six instead of a woman nearing twenty, she ran down the row and threw herself into his arms, never once doubting he'd welcome her embrace.

He not only welcomed her, but he lifted her feet straight off the ground as he hugged her tight. "Dear heart. How I've missed ye." He set her back on her feet, but he didn't let her go. His hands cupped her arms, and his eyes drank her in as if afraid he'd forget what she looked like. "I heard ye singin', and I thought me ears were playin' tricks. But here ye are. Me little mermaid finally swam home."

"I am comin' home, Da, but I'm afeared that I'm bringin' trouble with me."

Her da's eyes narrowed as he tipped his chin toward someone behind her. "Those fellas the trouble? I know a place me and the boys could toss 'em where they'd ne'er be found."

"What?" Muriel twisted to find Zane looking a tad green, while Grandpa Clem chuckled.

"I knew I'd like you." Grandpa Clem, his wiry physique looking like a twig next to the massive oak of her da, shuffled around Zane to smack Patrick Quinn on the shoulder as if they were old friends. Then he stuck out his hand. "Clem Erickson." He nodded toward Zane. "My grandson, Zane. He'll recover in a minute. He's not as used to blusterin' threats as I am."

"Ye hurt me girl, and it won't be bluster fer long." Da took the man's hand and gave it the vise treatment.

Grandpa Clem didn't so much as wince. He winked instead. "Good thing we're on the same side then, ain't it?"

Da chuckled as he released Grandpa Clem's hand, but his gaze narrowed when he turned his attention to Zane. He crossed his arms over his muscled chest. "I got a grandson of me own, and he tells me ye think to court my Muriel. That true?"

Zane stood straight and tall and closed the distance between them. "Yes, sir. If she'll have me."

Muriel's pulse throbbed as she held her breath. Please, Da. Ye know how much he means to me.

"If she'll have ye? Son, she left her family and completely changed who she was in order to have ye. I thought architects were supposed to be smarter than that."

Grandpa Clem hooted. "Well, the boy's still an apprentice. Quick learner, though." He aimed a warm smile at Zane then shot a challenging glance at her da. "Smart enough to care more about a gal's heart than her penchant for playactin'."