by Emma Easter
“I wanted us to talk some more, but you haven’t been coming to the chapel. How are you really doing? I’ve noticed you still look kinda depressed.”
She shrugged and didn’t answer.
They walked on while his emotions churned. He cried out to God in his heart. Lord, how can I help her when she won’t even speak to me?
A man in a well-tailored, pin-striped suit began to walk in their direction, and Bryan felt a tug in his heart. He assessed the man. He certainly didn’t look like he needed the food or provisions, but there was an air of poverty about him; soul poverty.
Bryan went up to him, and Sienna followed. He politely addressed the man.
“Hi, I was wondering if you would like us to pray for you?” He frowned in confusion as he heard something in his heart, and then quickly obeyed. He asked, “Do you want us to pray for . . . umm, a job as, umm . . . a budget analyst?” He looked sheepishly at the man. The word he’d just delivered, which he hoped was from the Lord, was very specific. If he were to be wrong, the man would definitely think he was nuts.
The man’s face contorted and then tears began falling down his cheeks. He was trembling visibly as he said, “It’s a miracle! I worked for years as a budget analyst for a software company in Boise. I loved my job, but I was let go some months ago. I’ve been trying to find another job since then. I lost my house, and almost everything I had, and someone suggested that I move to a small town because it’s a lot cheaper to live in. I came here to see if I could make something of my life, but of course, the floods swept away the little things I had just acquired. I’ve been suicidal for a while now.” He looked into Bryan’s eyes, his own filled with tears.
“I was so miserable today that I prayed, even though I’m an agnostic. I said, ‘God, if you are there, send someone to pray for me, because I can’t go on,’ and then I added, ‘if you make that person pray for me to get a job as a budget analyst, then I will believe in you.’ I knew my request was very specific and a little preposterous, but it was the hardest thing I could think of.” He shook his head, his eyes wide. “I can’t believe you actually asked me that. I’m not even from this town, and I told no one about my request.”
Bryan smiled.
“We’re not from this town either.”
The man shook his head, his eyes full of awe.
Bryan whispered a prayer of thanksgiving and praise to the Lord. He asked for the man’s name, and he told him it was Trevor.
“I’m going to pray that God gives you a job as a budget analyst, Trevor, and I’m sure He will.” Bryan prayed for him, asking the Lord to grant him the job he desired and also provide for all his needs. Trevor wept as he prayed. After that, Bryan asked if he wanted to give his heart to Jesus.
He nodded vigorously, and Bryan whispered to Sienna, “Do you want to lead him in the prayer of salvation?”
She shook her head quickly and her eyes filled with fear.
Bryan silently sighed and then led Trevor to Christ. After they finished praying, Trevor hugged him and then Sienna.
“Thank you,” he said. “I feel like a brand-new man.”
“You are a brand-new man,” Bryan said with a grin. “Jesus lives in you now.” He handed Trevor a bag of groceries and chuckled as Trevor walked away, almost skipping as he went.
“That’s our great God for you!” Bryan said and then turned to Sienna.
She was watching Trevor in wonder.
*****
Sienna watched Bryan as he handed out the remaining bag of groceries to an old woman on the street. Her mind burned with questions she wanted to ask him. When that man was rejoicing in the fact that God had miraculously answered his prayer, she had shared in his joy and had been thrilled for him. She’d forgotten about her own anxiety, until Bryan had asked her to lead him in the prayer of salvation and then all her doubts returned and fear overwhelmed her. How could she pray for someone to get saved when she wasn’t even sure she was?
She stood aside, waiting for Bryan to finish praying for someone else. As much as she’d been determined not to speak to him, a question kept running over and over in her mind, and she had to get the answer to it. And he was the only one she knew would have the answers she needed. He finally turned to her.
“We’ve given all the supplies out.”
She nodded as her heart raced. They began to walk back to the bus, taking it slowly, and she asked, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” he said, and his eyes lit up. “Anything.”
“How come you hear God’s voice so clearly?”
Bryan narrowed his eyes in thought and then looked at her.
“I’ve been practicing hearing his voice for some time now. It’s about intimacy with the Lord first of all . . .”
“Intimacy, but I try to be intimate with God. I fast and pray and confess all my sins every day, but I never really feel God’s presence, and I certainly don’t hear His voice.”
“Hearing His voice is not a reward for your many prayers. It’s by His grace. You just come to Him and believe He’ll speak to you because you belong to Him. As you spend time with Him and listen to Him carefully every day, His voice will become clearer and clearer.”
“But doesn’t it take a consecrated life to be able to hear His voice like you do?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “I envy people like you. Like those watchers. You’re all so confident in your salvation.”
“I’m not like the watchers, Sienna.” He frowned and searched her eyes. “And about a consecrated life being the prerequisite to hearing God clearly, let me ask you a question. If you had a child who wasn’t very well behaved, would you stop speaking to her, or do you speak even more clearly, knowing how much she needs to hear your voice in order to change?”
She looked at him, feeling slightly confused.
“I guess I’ll speak to that child more, but are you saying that rebellious people hear God’s voice more clearly?”
“No, I’m saying we all do if we are His.”
“And me, can I hear Him clearly too, just like you do?” she asked in a small voice.
“You belong to Him, don’t you? Yes, you can hear Him just like I do. You just haven’t practiced listening by faith.”
Her excitement suddenly waned as the familiar condemning voice filled her thoughts. She took a deep breath to try to calm her growing anxiety.
“I’d like to hear him speak clearly, but,” she sighed, “I don’t know if . . .”
He looked into her eyes, and she lowered her head.
“What?” he asked.
“I’ve been so full of doubts.”
“In what way?”
She looked up again, wondering if she should tell him about her panic attacks, her doubts about her salvation, her constant feeling of impurity.
They reached the bus and stood some distance away. Some of her classmates had returned, but some had yet to arrive. She searched his eyes and the sincerity in them drew her in. Without considering it any further, she told him the whole story. How she started having nightmares about going to hell months ago, how she had left Derrick at the altar. She told him about quitting her job and coming here. With her hands sweating, she talked about the continuous fasting and prayers that had yielded nothing, and her constant depression.
He looked terribly concerned when she finished. His brows were knit as he said, “That’s a lot for someone to go through, Sienna. I know one thing, though. God isn’t the one behind all this.”
“Then who is?” She grimaced.
He looked away for a second and then focused his gaze on her again. “I might be wrong, but I think you have religious OCD, also called scrupulosity.”
“I’ve heard of OCD, but not religious OCD or scrupulosity.” She blinked. He nodded.
“Everything you’ve told me seems to point to it.” He put his hands on her shoulders, and she sharply sucked in her breath. “Tell you what, Sienna, I’ll find out everything I can about it and let you know what solutions I c
an come up with. Does that sound good?”
She nodded, her heart soaring. “Yes. Thanks, Bryan.”
“You’re welcome.” He beamed. “It’s my pleasure.” He looked away, but she thought she saw a shy expression creep into his face before he did.
All the students finally came back, and they all got on the bus. All the way back to the Bible College, her heart brimmed with hope from what Bryan had told her. From time to time, she surreptitiously glanced back at him. Their eyes met once, and when he smiled at her, she smiled back and then quickly turned away.
On campus, as she entered her room, she felt certain that her face glowed from spending half the day with Bryan Larson.
Chapter Five
Audrey took a sip of her coffee as she drove to work. She turned on her car radio, but the channel that came on the radio was playing blues, which made her sullen. She turned it off.
She’d been wondering what to do since the mayor basically told her there was no chance of becoming police chief any time soon. She wanted to quit, had sworn she would if she wasn’t promoted to her rightful position, but three things stopped her.
First was her undying love for the police force, especially the Rosefield police department. The same reason she’d been angry—that she had given thirteen years of her life to the police—was the one reason that gave her pause. She wouldn’t have given that many years to the police force if she didn’t genuinely love it.
The second thing that stopped her from resigning was the youth center, managed by her as assistant police chief. She loved that place and how the workshops helped to keep the youth of Rosefield out of trouble. Because of initiatives like the youth center, Rosefield was free from the serious crimes that plagued many towns.
The last reason she put off quitting was a troubling one. She had refused to admit it to herself until very recently. Even though she still resented the fact that she’d been overlooked for the position of police chief, she’d grown to like and respect the new chief, Ken Baylor. There weren’t very many people she liked and respected at the same time, but he was one of them.
She’d respected her old boss, but she had not liked him. Ken was different. With all the officers at work, he had a playful, carefree disposition that sometimes annoyed her; but he was also firm when he needed to be. He was a good leader, and everyone liked him. He never bossed it over her the way her former supervisor had. Every day, she found she chafed less and less under his leadership. She still wanted the position that had been given to him, but perhaps she could wait until Ken moved someplace else, and she was sure he would soon enough; knowing he was a city boy through and through, she didn’t think he could bear living in a small town for too long.
Then she would take over.
She stopped at an intersection and waited until the traffic light turned green. As she began moving again, her two-way radio came alive. The voice on the other end belonged to Patrick, a young police officer who had joined the force two years ago. When she answered, he told her someone had broken into the youth center and stolen a number of things.
Audrey’s heart sank. No, not the youth center.
“. . . One of the volunteers came in this morning and found that a lot of the new equipment had been taken,” he said.
Audrey turned her car around and drove to the center. En route, she asked Patrick if the security guard was hurt and was told he didn’t appear to be seriously injured. He’d just passed out when he was hit on the head.
“Roger that!” Audrey said, glad the guy was okay. He would be the first one she questioned once she got there.
As she approached the youth center, she saw that it had already been cordoned off with yellow tape. Quite a number of people stood outside the tape, watching. She wasn’t surprised by that. Burglaries on this scale were almost unheard-of in the town.
A few police officers were already on the premises. They removed the tape just enough for her to drive inside it, and then put it back again. She parked in front of the building and got out of the car.
Ken was standing at the corner of the art and design room when she walked into the building. He turned to her with a grim look on his face.
“Who could have burgled this kid’s center? They stole most of the computers here and some instruments in the music room. They even stole the art supplies here.”
She shook her head as she looked around at the place. Many of the paintings the children had hung on the walls were scattered on the ground, and some chairs were broken. So not only did they burglarize it, they also vandalized the place. The window had been shattered, probably where the thief—or most likely thieves—entered.
We need better security for this place, but who would have thought?
Ken left the room to check the other parts of the building while she searched for clues as to who the perpetrator was. She met him outside the building again, and they questioned the security guard. They looked at each other in concealed amusement when he told them he was asleep during the burglary and had only gotten up to use the restroom when he was hit on the head and passed out.
When they got to the station, Ken called her into his office.
“I think one or a few of the teens did it,” he said to her.
“No,” she shook her head. “None of the kids in Rosefield are capable of this.”
“Then who do you think did it?”
“I have a hunch.”
“Share,” he said.
For a minute, she shared her suspicions. When she finished, she rapped her knuckles on the table.
“I’ve gotta get back to work.” She started to get up, but sat back down when Ken said to her, “You have a quick mind, Gardner.”
She nodded and blurted out, “You have a great smile, Baylor,” and then she shrank. When he raised his eyebrows, she almost groaned.
Why did I say that? What was I thinking?
As usual, she had spoken whatever came to her mind. Most of the time, she didn’t care what she said, but this was the second time she’d spoken something that had thoroughly embarrassed her. The first time had also been to him . . . and about the way he looked. She stood, mortified, and walked to the door.
“Audrey,” he said as she turned the knob.
She turned.
“You have a beautiful smile too. I only wish I saw more of it.”
She turned around and walked out of his office with a big smile on her face.
*****
Ken continued to look at the door minutes after Audrey had left his office. Their little flirting had been completely unexpected. He wasn’t sure what to do now, but he had enjoyed it, and he wanted more. The problem was that he didn’t know why she’d spoken those words to him. Was it because she liked him, or was it just said in her blunt I’ll-say-whatever-is-on-my-mind manner?
He looked down at the files on his desk. Apart from the burglary case today, he had a mountain of work, projects he had planned to take on when he was appointed the chief of police. He had started on some of them already, but a lot of it, he hadn’t even looked at yet.
He opened a file on his proposed officers’ training and then shut it again. He just couldn’t concentrate on work right now.
Is it professional to ask out a fellow police officer? Is it wrong? There were quite a few pretty female officers at the MPD, but he’d never been attracted to any of them. What was it about Audrey that made his heart pound every time he saw her?
He wearily ran his fingers through his hair. Maybe it was her frank brutality mixed with feminine vulnerability.
He put his head down. What was he thinking, wondering if he should ask her out? He had to put that idea out of his mind.
But he couldn’t.
Why can’t I ask her out? I should.
But he knew he wouldn’t. The truth was, he was afraid of rejection. In spite of his foolish speculations about her true feelings for him, he knew without a doubt that she would reject him. She didn’t come across as the kind of woman who wanted or
needed a man. And after what Lauren had done to him the year before, he’d become wary and overly protective of his heart.
He sighed and forced himself to continue working. They would have to remain the way they were now. The best he could hope for was her friendship. That was it.
*****
Sienna turned around after class and saw a group of watchers, gathered together, talking. She wanted to speak to the leader before she talked to Bryan. She listened as they sat discussing the new rules to help promote purity and holiness on campus. It sounded like what she needed right now.
She stood and walked up to them. “Can I join your meeting?” she asked, looking at each of them, and praying silently that they wouldn’t refuse. If there was one thing she needed to help her be totally pure, this was it.
“Sure, anybody can join in.”
She sat beside a girl in a red hoodie and listened as they talked.
“So,” the leader said, “for our new member,” he looked at her, “we were discussing what to do about the increasing decay on campus.”
A boy with freckles said, “Since the Provost asked us to come up with some ideas and recommendations, we’ve put our heads together and have come up with a list of rules. They aren’t complete yet, but we’re hoping that by the time they are, the school authorities will approve them and make them official.”
He began to read the rules and Sienna listened with growing anxiety. “. . . No hugging, no dating, no kissing or holding hands. Guys are not allowed in the girls’ dorm and vice versa. Anybody who displays any form of disobedience will be suspended. Sex and other forms of it are strictly prohibited and any student caught or reported will be expelled immediately.”
He went on reading while Sienna felt increasingly agitated. She knew these things were right and she felt ashamed. What if someone thought about these things, were they also guilty? Didn’t the Bible say if you looked at someone with lust in your heart, you were also guilty of adultery?
She felt totally exposed; like everyone in this group could see her lustful thoughts about Bryan. She wanted him to ask her out. She constantly thought about kissing him. That meant she was utterly guilty and deserved to be punished.