A Hope Undaunted
Katie shook her head, her voice nasal with tears. “No, Faith, he can’t. It’s too late.”
“But Jack – ”
With a violent heave, Katie pulled away, her vision blurred as she stared at her sister. “No, you don’t understand. I’m not talking about Jack – I’m talking about Luke.”
Faith blinked, eyes rounded in shock. “What? You’re in love with Luke?”
She nodded while heaves shook her body.
“Oh, Katie . . .” Faith tugged her close. “I thought you two were just friends.”
“So did I,” Katie said with a tremor in her tone. “Over the summer, he told me he was in love with me, but I wouldn’t listen.” She pulled away and pushed the hair from her eyes, her voice hard. “No, I had my life all mapped out, pretty as you please, and it sure didn’t include a starving street lawyer whose only ambition in life was saving the next orphan.”
“Did he . . . did he know you were in love with him when he . . .”
“Proposed to Betty?” Katie lagged into a cold stare, remembering with painful clarity everything about that fateful night. “No . . . no, he didn’t. I could see it in his face when I told him – he was stunned beyond belief.” She looked up then, the despair so potent in her eyes, it was bleeding down her cheeks. “He admitted it, Faith, admitted then and there that he was still in love with me, but his mind was made up. And that’s when I knew – I had lost a soul mate forever, a man who’s been the missing piece of my heart since as far back as I can remember. But it’s too late now . . . even for God.” Bitterness cut in her tone. “Because I may be the woman in Luke McGee’s heart, but for the rest of my life, it will be Betty who’ll be in his arms.”
Faith grabbed her hand and held on tight. “Katie, I’m so sorry. But all the more reason to cling to God, because you have nothing to lose right now and everything to gain.”
Katie pulled her hand away and closed her eyes, her voice dead. “I don’t know, Faith. I know God is real to you, but to me, it’s always been more of a fairy tale. You have faith in him, but I don’t. Sometimes I even wonder if I believe in him at all. I pray, but I feel like he doesn’t hear my prayers, like they’re long-distance and lost in the shuffle. I don’t feel any closeness with him, any desire to pursue him.” Her shoulders slumped forward, weighted with despair. “I guess the bottom line is . . . ,” a knot shifted in her throat, “I’m not sure he even exists.”
Her sister’s tone was gentle. “It doesn’t matter, Katie, not one little bit. All you have to do is ask him to reveal himself to you, to prove that he’s real and that he loves you and has a plan for your life. Just the frail consent of your will to invite him into your heart is all it takes. And you can have a living, breathing relationship with the God of the universe, overflowing with a love and passion as real as anything you ever felt for Luke. Go ahead, Katie, do it! And if you do, you have my word – your life will never be the same.”
Katie’s eyes widened as she stared, her sister’s gaze aglow like a beacon of hope. She swallowed hard, knowing full well that no matter any storms in her life, this was the sister who carried a reservoir of peace wherever she went. The sister who had scaled every mountain, weathered every storm with her resilient faith in God. Katie blinked. Could it actually be real?
As if she sensed the shift in Katie’s thinking, Faith placed a palm on top of Katie’s hand, warm and stable, cupping it, shielding it, like an anchor of hope in this storm of her soul. “Katie,” she whispered, “you say he’s not real to you, that you’re not sure he even exists. But right this minute, one of us is right and one of us is wrong.”
Katie looked into her sister’s face, as if compelled to listen by some strange force that pulled at her with a tentative thread of hope.
Wetness shimmered in Faith’s eyes. “If it’s me who is wrong, then I have lost nothing. Because even if I have believed in a lie or a fairy tale, then that lie or fairy tale has given me more joy, more hope, and more strength than anything I have ever encountered. But if it is you who is wrong, Katie, I tremble to think that you will have lost everything – his joy, his peace, his hope . . .” Her voice softened to a bare whisper. “His salvation.” She straightened then, her manner as sure as the conviction in her tone. “I repeat, Katie, one of us is right and one of us is wrong. Do it now, I beg of you – invite him into your heart. Because truly, you have nothing to lose and everything to gain.”
Katie stared while seconds ticked by like heartbeats, thundering increments of time in a reality she could feel, see, touch. She was a realist, a woman bent on the law, with a penchant for facts, statistics, and tangible proof. How could she lay all of that down to embrace an intangible God? A God her family had embraced all of their lives, depended on, lived for . . . while she herself had stood in the wings, master of her own future. She closed her eyes, grief piercing anew. A future that now lay in shambles at her feet. She swallowed the pride in her throat. Nothing to lose . . .
And then out of nowhere, Emma’s words that day in the store haunted her thoughts, and in a catch of her breath, Katie’s heart began to race.
“Whatever your hurts or fears or scars, Katie – call on him. He’s waiting to love you like you’ve never been loved before.” “I don’t know, Emma, it all sounds wonderful, but God . . . prayer, well . . . I’m just not sure that it’s real.”
“I understand, Katie, but I can tell you this – you won’t know till you try . . .”
Till I try . . . Katie’s breathing accelerated, and all at once, in the thud of her pulse or the trail of a tear, her decision was made. Gripping her sister’s hand like a lifeline in a stormy sea, Katie lifted her face to the ceiling while water seeped from her lidded eyes. Her voice quivered, but her resolve was sure. “God, Faith says you’re up there, that you care for me and have a plan for my life. If you are, and I’m not just talking to a ceiling, will you show me? Reveal yourself to me, your love, your purpose for my life. Please, God, come into my heart and make me the woman you want me to be.”
She opened her eyes then, and somehow the room seemed different. The same ivy wallpaper covered the walls, and the lace-curtained windows still wore pretty green ribbons tied back in a swag. The scent of rosewater hovered in the air, and Miss Buford – the porcelain doll from her youth – still perched on her vanity like some regal judge presiding over her bench. And yet, in the beat of Katie’s heart, everything had changed. She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of her freedom, tears escaping as surely as her heart had escaped its gloom.
Dear God, can it really be this easy?
Her eyelids fluttered open and she looked at her sister, her words soft with wonder. “I never knew . . . never knew that it could be so easy . . . so real.”
A smile lighted upon her sister’s lips as Faith placed a gentle hand to Katie’s face. “Believing in him is easy, Katie, because he gives us that tiny seed of faith. And loving him is even more so, because when you see how he moves on your behalf, your heart will spill over with joy. But unfortunately, living for him is not so easy. Feelings and doubts will come and go, but his Word stands forever. Study it, commit it to memory, learn through his Bible what he wants you to do. Because everything in this world will come and go – people we love, financial security, jobs – but God is a constant, and his promises endure forever.”
Katie nodded, the memory of her father’s hand on the Bible bringing a soft smile to her lips. All at once, she thought of law school, and the smile slowly dissolved. She drew in a deep breath. “I need to quit law school, don’t I, Faith?”
Her sister studied her, a look of regret in the depth of those gentle green eyes. “Maybe not quit, Katie, let’s just say postpone. Just until Father can get on his feet again.”
A heavy sigh departed from Katie’s lips, along with any sense of disappointment. She blinked, stunned that she actually felt relieved. “I . . . I don’t understand,” she muttered in confusion. “Law school was everything to me.” She looked up, her eyes circ
led in shock. “Why do I suddenly feel like I don’t care?”
Faith smiled. “Because your life is in God’s hands now, Katie, not yours. And when we cling to him and follow his precepts, his path is paved with peace.”
Katie nodded, her amazement blooming into a grin. “Peace . . . ,” she said, reveling in the feel and wonder of the word. “Sweet saints alive, he should market it!”
A grin spread on her sister’s face. “He does, Katie Rose, every day. Through grateful pieces of the puzzle like you and me.”
LEGAL DEPARTMENT. Katie blinked at the gold lettering on the bubbled glass door and winced at just how much it hurt to be here again. She pressed a hand to her stomach, queasy beneath the bulk of her camelhair coat, and closed her eyes to try to ward off the thoughts. But it was no use – she saw, heard, and felt them all in a movie reel in her mind. Betty’s droll comments, Bobbie Sue’s outrageous humor, Parker’s solid friendship . . . and Luke’s every kiss. She shivered. Ghosts from her past that she needed to face and move on. She opened her eyes, and her lips quirked to the right. God, help me, she thought, I’ve never been fond of ghosts . . .
At least there were no more “ghosts” in her closets, though, she thought with a grim smile. Not since Faith had introduced her to the ultimate “Ghost,” the Spirit of God. From the moment her sister – and the Holy Spirit – had opened her eyes to God’s personal love for her, Katie had become a changed woman. She sighed. Well, almost. She was still stubborn and headstrong to a fault, she supposed, and certainly ready to battle at the drop of a hat, but far more at peace and far more willing to include God in every decision she made. She stared at the door of the BCAS Legal Department and chewed on her lip. Like this one . . .
She closed her eyes and clung to the Scripture from Isaiah she’d memorized – the one that assured her that God would provide a shelter from the wind and a refuge from the storm. Never had she needed a refuge more, in the throes of the worst financial crisis the country had ever seen. Katie whispered the words, desperate for the comfort they offered. And a man shall be as a hiding place from the wind, and a refuge from the storm; as rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land.
And the eyes of them that see shall not be dim, and the ears of them that hear shall hearken.
Peace flooded her soul, and she swallowed to relieve her parched throat. Licking her dry lips, she felt them lift into a gentle smile. Streams of water in the desert . . . still, quiet, and providing precious sustenance in her time of need. She sighed. Like Parker, she hoped?
Her grip on the knob was tentative, but when she opened the door and saw the woman at the desk, her confidence resurged. A far cry from Betty Galetti – or McGee, she corrected with a hitch of her heart – the girl before her appeared arrogant where Betty had appeared regal, cool where Betty had been warm. Even more attractive than Betty, this woman wore the look of a flapper and wore it well. Black hair, shiny and chic in a curly Clara Bow bob with shadowed eyes and a come-hither look. She was a stunning woman with a body to match, judging from what Katie could see, but it was all ruined by her condescending air. Katie stifled a grin. Not to mention the incessant smacking of her jaws from gum that rolled around behind those cupid-bow lips. She waited for the lips to speak. They didn’t.
Closing the door behind her, Katie managed a polite smile. “Hello, I’m Katie O’Connor – the volunteer from last summer. Is Parker in?”
Darkly smudged eyes perused her from head to foot with a slow sweep of lashes, then settled on her face with obvious disdain. Gum popped in her jaws. “He’s busy.”
Katie blinked, her polite smile gaping. She snapped her mouth closed and lifted both chin and brow, giving the flapper a dose of her own medicine. “Excuse me, but is he in a meeting?”
The raccoon eyes narrowed. “I said he’s busy, bimbo, scram.”
Katie’s ire rose, along with her height on the balls of her feet as she lifted to loom over the desk. “Would you be so kind to at least ask Mr. Riley if he will see me?”
The gum went silent as the woman glared. “Beat it – now! He ain’t got time for you.”
Katie leaned in, both hands propped on the edge of the flapper’s desk along with her purse. She couldn’t resist a sugar-sweet smile as she lowered her voice. “But you see, he left his keys on my nightstand this morning, and I’m just certain he’d want them back right away.” Katie gave her a knowing smile. “I’m sure you understand . . .”
Miss Manners shot to her feet. “I’ll give them to him,” she snapped. She extended a hand dripping with scarlet nails that matched her lips.
“No, thank you,” Katie said in a singsong tone, dodging her as she bolted for Parker’s door and knocked.
“Wait! You can’t go in there – ”
Parker glanced up when Katie opened the door. “Katie! What are you doing here?”
“Parker, I told her you were busy but she – ”
“It’s okay, Gladys, I always have time for Katie.”
Katie clasped her purse in her hands and awarded Gladys a smug smile as she slowly eased the door shut in her face. “Thanks, Gladys,” she whispered through the crack. “Can you make sure we’re not disturbed?” She smiled and scrunched her nose. “We’ll be busy.”
With a click of the lock, Katie shot Parker a grin as she sashayed to a chair.
Parker smiled. “Mind telling me what that was all about?”
Katie crossed her legs and adjusted her short skirt in an attempt to cover her knee. “Let’s just say ol’ Gladys doesn’t have Betty’s finesse with people.” She angled a brow. “Does she even know how to spell?”
“No, as a matter of fact. How’d you guess?” Parker sighed and tossed his pen on the desk. He kneaded his forehead with the palm of his hand before threading his fingers through perfect sandy hair. The effect was a somewhat disheveled look so unlike the Parker she knew, that she grinned. It made him appear more dangerous – like Luke.
Her grin quickly lost its glow, fading into a half smile. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe it was that gum slapping around on her molars or the Grand Canyon view of her . . . uh, shall we say, finer attributes?” Katie’s lips squirmed. “She belongs in Arizona, Parker, not the BCAS. You should charge admission.” She gave him a narrow look. “Not that any females would get in – I think she may have designs on you, my friend.”
Parker groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
She leaned forward to launch folded arms on his desk. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I did my best to convince her you were already spoken for.”
Color bled up his neck. “What do you mean?”
She winked. “I told her you left your keys on my nightstand when you left this morning.”
Other than Sean, Katie had never seen a man turn that red before. Parker started to cough and reached into his bottom drawer to pull out a grape Nehi. With one raspy hack after another, he opened it and took a fast swig, bottom up, his face a close second to the purple in the bottle. The guzzling stopped for air while he held it out to her, obviously still unable to speak.
She did her best to fight a grin, to no avail. “No thanks, Parker, but I see Luke bequeathed you his stash.” She shook her head and settled back in her chair, arms flat on the armrests while the grin still beamed on her face. “He was a bad influence, that boy.”
“Yes, he was,” he finally said in a hoarse voice. He set his Nehi on the desk and sucked in a deep breath. His brown eyes, usually so gentle, held a stern twinkle. “And so are you, Katie Rose. I’m sure you’ve ruined my reputation forever.”
She wriggled her brows. “Or helped it.”
He blushed again, desperately trying to shuffle papers into a neat pile.
Parker liked things “neat,” she remembered, even his conversation. She changed the subject. “I’m sure you realize this is not a social visit,” she began, attempting to resume an air of professionalism. She sat up straight and folded her hands neatly in her lap. Her tongue suddenly
felt like Jell-O. “Have you . . . heard from Luke and Betty?”
Gentle eyes assessed her, as if measuring the depth of her hurt. “Yeah, I have. They’re all settled in at Aunt Ruth’s, and Luke’s knee-deep in orphans at the CAS. He’s already started both a football and a basketball team while Betty works part-time at the five-and-ten.”
She nodded. Her eyes flitted from his face to the hands in her lap. “I’m glad. I wish them every happiness.” She paused before her gaze returned to his. “Parker . . . after Luke left, you told me that if I needed anything – a shoulder, whatever – that I should come see you.”
The brown eyes softened to almost hazel in the bright afternoon light. “You need a shoulder to cry on, Katie Rose?” he whispered.
It was her turn to blush. She trained her gaze on the edge of his desk, cheeks hot at the innocence of his statement. “No, Parker, not a shoulder.” She looked up, gaze skittish. “A job.”
Surprise flared in his eyes, and the clean line of his jaw shifted the tiniest bit. He leaned back in his chair and clasped hands to his chest, sleeves rolled like Luke used to do. His height and build – similar to Luke’s – seemed slight by comparison, revealing forearms corded with muscles more prone to chess than basketball. The barest of smiles toyed with his lips. “You want a job,” he said, more of a statement than a question, and the twinkle in his eyes inspired hope.
She nodded, holding her breath.
“What about law school?” he asked.
She swallowed hard. “Postponed . . . at least for this year. The economy, you know.”
He nodded and his gaze slid to her hands and back, his look pensive as he studied her through cautious eyes. “And how does Jack feel about that?”
She hesitated, drawing in a deep breath. “Also postponed,” she said with a swerve of her lips. She exhaled with a faint smile. “You might say, forever.”
Compassion flickered in his face. “I’m sorry, Katie. About everything.”
She nodded as tears stung. “Don’t be. Luke saved me from a big mistake.”