She was always such a good girl. Of course she'd been com-pliant. She'd been promised a reunion with Jordan, guaranteed that the two of them would be together again. She'd probably fig-ured it would happen faster if she got $long with her foster par-ents. Tears burned at Jordan's eyes and he blinked them back. He had no patience for blurred vision. Not now when he needed to see every stroke of the pen.
He scanned over three more similar reports and found one that coincided with the date he'd been sent to the boys’ camp: “Hddis brother, Jordan Riley, was caught after running away from his foster home. He is considered unstable and a threat to his sisters secu-rity. He has been placed at Southridge Boys’ Camp until further notice. This worker no longer recommends that Jordan have scheduled visits with his sister.’
Jordan gritted his teeth as a tear landed squarely on the report. How dare a stranger make a recommendation like that? What did a social worker know about Jordan or the relationship he and Heidi shared? He wished he could find the man today… he'd grab him by the collar and—
Jordan dismissed the thought. There wasn't time to waste hating people who no longer existed. This was about Heidi and him and no one else. He flipped the page and saw an entry marked Special Report. His heart thudded in his chest as he let his eyes work their way down the page. The report detailed how Heidi had been given the news that her brother had been in an acci-dent at Southridge Boys’ Camp: “Hddi cued for several hours and ashed if she could go to the hospital to see her brother. At this time Jordan Riley's status—whether he survived the accident or not—is unclear.”
Jordan turned the page, barely aware that he was holding his breath. The next page told him all he needed to know. It was another special report and it indicated that Heidi had been told the news: Her brother had been killed in a collapsed cave inci-dent at Southridge Boys’ Camp. “Hddi is very upset and had to be sedated in order to sleep. State worker recommends extended counseling to deal with issues of grief and loss.”
The words seared Jordan's heart like a branding iron, filling in the places that had only been chasms of darkness and uncer-tainty So it was true after all; so soon after losing their mother Heidi had been forced to deal with Jordan's death as well. Tears coursed down Jordan's face and he let his head hang for a moment. When he looked up again, he showed the report to Faith.
She read it and then looked up at him, her eyes wet too. “Jordan, it's awful. All this time—” She reached for his hand, much the way a friend might reach out in the face of bad news.” No wonder she hasn't looked for you.”
The missing pieces of his past were filling in quickly, but still there was a part Jordan wanted. “How much time?”
“Seven minutes.”
Jordan nodded and flipped quickly through the reports, scan-ning the entries describing how well Heidi was responding to counseling, how she appeared to be bonding with her social worker, and how a placement had been suggested. Then abruptly he was at the last entry: “Transfer was made to a permanent foster-adopt home. State workers believe Heidi will make d complete and successful adjustment and that adoption will be completed within the year” In the place designated for the adoptive parents’ names, there was just one word scribbled:
Morand.
“Morand?” Jordan practically shouted the word. He closed the file and smacked it against his thigh. “How is that supposed to help me find her?”
Faith squeezed his hand, released it, and folded her fingers together in her lap once more. “It isn't much to go on.”
Jordan turned to the back of the file and scanned the last entry one more time. “No address, no phone number. For all I know they live at the other end of the state or halfway across the world.” Frustration grabbed him like a vise grip and he felt like he was suffocating under a blanket-sized piece of plastic wrap. “That was fifteen years ago. There's no way I could find her now.”
For all the answers the files provided, in some ways it was worse for Jordan than if he'd never seen them at all because now there truly was no hope. Heidi was gone from his life forever. Another wave of tears came, and he closed his eyes. Without warning, his mother's voice came back to him. “Pray, Jordan… don't ever stop praying… don't ever stop praying.”
“Jordan—” Faith's voice interrupted his memories— “I know you don't believe in what I'm about to do, but it's all I know.”
He opened his eyes and watched her bow her head, her heart and mind focused on a God he'd spent half his life fighting against. How had she known what he was thinking? That his mother's dying words on prayer had been rattling through his mind?
“Lord, we're out of options. You know Jordan's heart…the loss he's already suffered.”
She paused, as though searching for the right words. The idea of Faith praying when it could not possibly do any good reminded Jordan of his mother again, her unwavering beliefs even on her deathbed.
Faith's voice rose a notch. “We have nowhere to turn now, no way to find Jordan's sister. Please, Father, bring them back together. I don't know how You're going to do it, Lord, but right here… right now… I thank You for what miracle You're working in this. No matter what happens, God, I trust You. And I'll always love you. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
She opened her eyes, and the light he saw there was too much for him. He shifted his attention to the folder in his hands.
“I appreciate what you're trying to do, Faith, but there's no point.”
Faith sighed hard and leaned back against the headrest, her eyes fixed somewhere on the ceiling of Jordan's car. “I don't understand why your mother died, Jordan. Or why Heidi was told you were killed in the accident. But I know the God I believe in is real.” She was crying now, and the gentleness of a moment earlier was replaced by something Jordan couldn't quite identify. Anger maybe, or a deep, unquenchable fear. She stared at him, her eyes begging him to understand. “If I'm wrong about God, if your mom was wrong… what have we lost?” She let her question sink in. “Butif you're wrong, Jordan…”
There was no need to finish her statement; he'd heard it before both from high school and college acquaintances, and always he'd had an answer for them: “I'd rather live a truth that was doomed than a life of hope based on lies.”
This time, though, the words wouldn't come. It was as though the combination of reading about Heidi and remembering his mother while sharing the intimate space of his car's front seat with Faith was too much for him. He handed Heidi's file back to Faith and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. Then he looked at Faith and said the only thing he could think to say.
“Let's get the files back.”
Twenty-four
On the surface there wasn't any reason why Joshua Nunn should think the phone call strange. After all, Faith was at the center of one of the most fascinating religious rights cases ever. In fact, it wasn't so much the type of call or even the caller's voice that stuck with Joshua hours later.
It was the timing.
He'd been having a midday quiet time with God, alone in his office, wondering what more he could possibly do to convince the judge that a ten-foot high wall was unreasonable. The Scripture that day was from the book of Joshua, and it confirmed everything the Lord had been laying on his heart since he'd first heard about the case: “Be strong and courageous. God will go before you. You will not have to fight this battle…the place where you are standing is holy ground.”
The verses all seemed to run together, lifting Joshua and taking away his fear. He had no idea how God was going to pull off a victory, but he believed with all his heart that somehow the Lord would come out a winner. Even if it didn't look that way to the public.
That afternoon he'd felt compelled to pray for wisdom. Like he'd done so many times in his life, he slid to his knees, closed his eyes, and raised his hands as high toward heaven as he could. “Lord, show me the way. Ive done all I can do and still HOUR has the advantage. If there's something I'm missing, some way that victory might belong to You, Your people, s
how me now, Lord. I'm almost otit of t—”
The phone rang before he could finish the word. Joshua did not immediately see the interruption as an answer to prayer, but rather as one in a series of distractions that were a regular part of his life lately He quickly finished his talk with God and answered the phone.
“Religious Freedom Institute joshua Nunn.”
“Uh…yes, I'm looking for Faith Evans.” The woman seemed nervous, not sure of herself. “I got your number from information and thought maybe… is there some way you could get her a message?”
Joshua scooted onto the edge of his chair and forced himself to change gears. “Faith doesn't work here, if that's what you mean. But I can get a message to her.”
“Are you the… the attorney representing the city of Bethany?”
The woman was obviously a fan of some kind, calling to wish them God's blessings or offer prayer support. Joshua inhaled slowly “Yes, ma'am.” He didn't want to seem rude but he had no time to waste on the phone. “Why don't you give me your name and number, and I'll give Faith the message?”
There was a pause and again Joshua had the sense the woman was uptight about something. “My name's Heidi Benson.” She rattled off her phone number with what seemed like a sense of urgency. “I'd really like to talk to Faith about the case. I… I used to live in Bethany a long time ago and the statue meant a great deal to my mother.”
Joshua's heart went out to the woman.” I'll give her the mes-sage this afternoon.”
Long after the phone call ended, Joshua was haunted by something in the woman's voice. It was a feeling that was com-pletely unfounded, yet it remained. Joshua tried reaching Faith seven times before she finally answered the phone at just before five o'clock.
“Hello?” She sounded relaxed and upbeat, and Joshua was relieved. Faith had been under too much pressure lately, and he knew she was operating on sheer Holy Spirit power.
“YouVe been busy today” Joshua didn't want to question her about her absence. With everything going on, she deserved time to herself. Tve been calling you all afternoon.”
“I took Rosa to the movies.” She seemed breathless, as though she'd just come in the door. “It's snowing outside, Joshua. It'll be a perfect Thanksgiving.”
The holiday was just eight days away and until Faith's mention of it, Joshua had barely considered how quickly it was approaching. He glanced out his office window and saw Main Street covered in an inch of powder. “Well, I'll be. First real snow of the season.”
“Okay, what's so important?” Faith had caught her breath and sounded ready to chat.
“A woman called you. Wants to talk about the Jesus statue. She used to live here and the statue mattered a lot to her mother. I have her name and number for you.”
“Just a minute.” It wasn't the first time such a conversation had transpired between the two of them, and after several sec-onds Faith returned with a pen and paper. “What is it?”
Joshua gave her the phone number and hesitated. “I don't know, Faith. Something about this one feels strange. The Lord kept putting it on my heart over and over again.”
Faith chuckled.” You're just an old softie, Joshua. Now tell me her name so I can call her back.”
“Her name? Oh, right.” He looked at his notepad again. “Heidi… Heidi Benson.”
When Joshua said the woman's first name, Faith about fell from her seat. But as she wrote down the last name she knew it couldn't be the same Heidi. By now Heidi Morand—or whoever she was—could have been anywhere. Besides, the phone number had a Bethany prefix. If Jordan's sister had lived in Bethany all this time she would have come forward a lot sooner, wouldn't she?
Faith thought back over the day and how Jordan had closed down after reading Heidi's file. Especially in light of her prayer that God help them find Heidi. They'd gone back to the court-house, and she'd returned the file while Jordan waited in the car. After that he hadn't spoken much until he dropped her off.
“Like I said, I'll never forget this. You took a risk for me, Faith. It means a lot.” Jordan's eyes were still teary, but he stopped short of hugging her or doing anything that could have been misconstrued.
After he was gone Faith was grateful for her plans with Rosa Lee. The time with Jordan had been hard on her heart and she needed a distraction. An old theater in town was showing reruns of favorite kids’ movies throughout November, and they ended up seeing The Prince of Egypt
Faith had to smile at the way God drilled a message home. First the sermon on Luke and Jesus’ final days, then her realizations about her own life, and finally the animated movie. There the Israelites stood, toes in the water, enemies charging at their heels, and Moses did the only thing he could do: He raised his staff to heaven and begged God for a way out. He never would have asked God to part the Red Sea. It would have been beyond Moses” understanding. But God… ah, God didn't need Moses to figure it out. The answers belonged to the Lord all along. When things looked their worst—in fact, especially when they looked their worst—God was busy putting in overtime, making mar-velous things happen.
Faith could feel it in her gut: He was going to do that in the Jesus-statue case as well.
She stared at the woman's name and phone number and decided to call her back. Faith could carry on a conversation while making dinner, and later she would call her mother and catch her up on all that had gone on in the past few days. Suddenly Faith remembered being with Jordan in the park the other night, the way he'd kissed her.
Well, most of what had gone on.
She dialed the number and waited while it rang several times. Finally there was a click and an answering machine came on. “Hi, this is Faith Evans calling for Heidi.” She left her home num-ber, confident that the woman wasn't a wacko. After all, she lived in Bethany and had a fondness for the Jesus statue.
The irony of the woman's name struck Faith again as she hung up. If only it was Jordan's sister. Wouldn't that be some-thing?
Faith checked the boiling water and dropped in a handful of pasta. Even though the woman wasn't Heidi Morand, her name was a reminder that Faith still needed to pray.
While she stirred the spaghetti sauce she spent the next fif-teen minutes praying fervently for Jordan and his sister. That wherever Heidi was, she and Jordan might find each other again. The prayer brought about a freedom in Faith she hadn't felt in months.
The answer to the battle of Jericho Park wasn't strategies or case precedent or vigils in which they took turns talking about their rights. It was something Christ Himself had done, some-thing she knew she must continue to do if there was any hope of seeing God glorified in the process. The very thing she'd been doing since seeing Jordan on her doorstep that morning.
Praying for her enemy.
Heidi was strangely energized when she and Charles got home at ten-thirty after their first date since the baby was born. With all the talk about feedings and diaper changes and nap schedules, they'd realized several days earlier that they needed adult conver-sation.
Together.
Charles's nurse at the office had baby-sat and in what seemed like a perfect ending to an already wonderful evening, Jordan Lee was sleeping peacefully in her bassinet and the house was cleaner than when they'd left.
“Wow…” Heidi wandered into the kitchen and found Charles digging through the cupboards for cereal. “What a great night.”
He reached for a box of Grapenuts, set it on the counter, and pulled her into a lingering hug. “What I want to know is where that baby in the other room came from.”
Heidi knit her brow together. Even after several years of mar-riage there were times when she wasn't sure if Charles was kid-ding.” What do you mean?”
His gaze wandered lazily over her green sweater and new black jeans. “There's no way that body of yours just had a baby You look better than you did the day I met you.”
After weeks of feeling tired and frumpy, Charles’ comment made Heidi's heart soar. “Why, thank you, sir.” She ki
ssed him, nuzzling against his rough cheek, then rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed as she savored the feel of him. “I love you, Dr. Benson.”
“Mmm. I love you, too.”
She opened her eyes and noticed that the answering machine was blinking. “I wonder who called? No one knows us yet.”
She made her way across the kitchen as Charles returned to his cereal. There was a click as Heidi pushed a button and stood back to hear the message. “Hi, this is Faith Evans calling for Heidi… I'm returning a call you made to my friend Joshua Nunn earlier today. Give me a call when you get a chance.” Heidi scrambled for a piece of paper and scribbled the number as the caller rattled it off.
“Who was that?” Charles looked at Heidi from his place on the stool at the center island. He took another bite and waited for her answer.
She remembered then that she hadn't told him, hadn't even mentioned the story she'd seen in the newspaper earlier that day. She looked at her watch. The news was set to begin in five min-utes.” We have to watch the news tonight. You won't believe what's happening in Bethany It's big time, Charles. National news.”
He was working on another mouthful of cereal. “You mean that whole mess about the statue at the park?”
Heidi let her mouth hang open. For a moment she considered telling him about the attorney for HOUR, how strange it had been to see her brother's name in print. But that wasn't the point of the story “Yes. That's not just any statue, Charles. It was one of my mother's favorite places in town. My brother's, too.”
“So who's Faith Evans?” He finished his cereal and set the bowl in the sink. “Her name sounds familiar.”
“She was a newscaster at WKZN, but she was fired because she got involved in the Jesus-statue case.”
Creases appeared on Charles's forehead.” They fired her for that?”
Heidi nodded. “I called the city's lawyer and asked him to give her the message to call me. I felt like she might need help.”