Jillian’s eyes brightened. “So you think Mac is telling the truth? You think he married me because he truly loves me?” she questioned hopefully.
“I know it as sure as I know my name. Is that all you’re worried about?”
Jillian shook her head. “No, there’s more. Mary, you’ve been so good to share your love of God with me. I want to know more. I feel a horrible emptiness within me when I look at you and your life. You have purpose and you have direction. Your life seems to mean something.” “Only because God gives it meaning,” Mary offered. “Jillian, have you ever accepted Jesus as your Savior?”
“Sure, I’ve gone to church all my life. I know Jesus is Savior.”
“No,” Mary said, leaning forward, “I didn’t ask if you knew it, I asked if you’d accepted it—accepted Him.”
Jillian felt puzzled. “I don’t suppose I really know what you mean.”
Mary leaned back, nodding. “It’s not enough to warm a pew on Sunday, Jillian. It’s not even enough to believe there is a God and that He has a Son named Jesus. If you don’t accept Jesus as your personal Savior and friend, you will go on feeling empty inside.”
“What do I have to do?” Jillian questioned, patting the baby gently. “Just pray and ask Him to forgive you of your sins. Repent and turn away from the old way of doing things—” “The lies?”
“Yes, the lies. Satan is the Father of Lies. You sure don’t want to be doing anything to benefit his cause. The lies have to stop, Jillian. They are hurtful and often destroy the people we love. Jesus wouldn’t want you lying to save yourself from an uncomfortable situation.”
Hope was already beginning to fall asleep, and after she finished feeding her, Jillian wrapped her tightly in a blanket and cradled her close. “Mary, is this the truth that you said would set me free?”
The old woman smiled knowingly. “It’s that and so much more. You know the Navajo people work a great deal with sheep. Up until coming out here with my husband, I knew very little about sheep, but now I know a whole heap more. The sheep are funny. They know their shepherd. Without him, they are silly ninnies always running themselves into trouble. Jesus said, ‘I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep, and am known of mine.’ There are plenty of examples in the Bible of us bein’ like the sheep. We tend to run willy-nilly without a shepherd to guide us. We head in the wrong direction and do the wrong thing. But you know, Jesus is a compassionate and caring shepherd, Jillian. He’ll come after you, even if you’re the only lost sheep left on the open range. You mattered enough to Him, long before you were placed on this earth. You mattered so much, in fact, that He decided to help you find your way back to the heavenly Father.
He’s the way, Jillian.”
Jillian felt tears streaming down her cheeks. “Sometimes I’ve felt very lost,” she admitted. “I didn’t know why. I thought maybe I was just homesick.”
Mary smiled. “You were, child. Just homesick for a different home. A heavenly one.”
“And all I have to do is repent of my sins and ask for Jesus to be my shepherd?” Jillian questioned hopefully.
“That’s right,” Mary said softly. “You want to do that with me now? I can help you pray the prayer if you don’t have the words.”
Jillian sniffed back tears. “I’d like that very much, Mary.”
The old woman knelt down beside the bed and waited for Jillian to place Hope in the middle of the bed and join her on the floor. Kneeling there together, Jillian prayed with Mary.
“Father, I’m askin’ you to bless Jillian as she comes to you,” Mary said softly. “She’s willing to repent of her sins, and she’s askin’ for your forgiveness.”
“Yes, Lord,” Jillian prayed, “please forgive me my sins and lead my life. Let me seek you always. Save me from evil and give me eternal life in Jesus.”
“Amen!” Mary said, squeezing Jillian’s hand.
“Amen.”
Mary laughed. “Feel better?”
“Only partially,” Jillian said, suddenly remembering something Mary had mentioned. “Mary, I don’t know for sure if Mac will understand all of this. I don’t know if he’s a Christian. I mean, he told me he was working on making peace with God. He said he’d gone and talked to Reverend Lister, but I don’t know where he stands. Will he think me silly for all of this?”
“Does it matter what Mac thinks in regard to your decision for Christ?” Mary asked as Jillian helped her back to her feet.
“I remember you saying that a person ought to attach himself to God before attaching himself to someone else. I’ve done that now, but what about Mac? Will it be a problem for us if Mac doesn’t believe this way?”
“I think it would probably be a real stronghold for the devil to get in and stir all kinds of grief,” Mary replied. “Why don’t you just ask Mac how he feels and find out for certain?”
Jillian twisted her hands and looked away. “I don’t feel like I have the right. I feel like there’s so much I need to talk to Mac about and this is just one more thing—one very big thing.”
“Would you like me to find out about his spiritual stand?” Mary questioned.
“Would you?” Jillian asked, looking up rather quickly. “Could you just talk to him, at least? Tell him about my choice—ask him if that will be a problem.”
Mary laughed. “I’ll go right now. I wanted to see how Mr. Matthews was doin’ anyway.”
“Oh, he isn’t there. He was getting ready to go out to search for Bear and his bunch early this morning. Gwen was beside herself for fear he’d get hurt.”
“Men are like that sometimes,” Mary said knowingly. “Well, if you want to stay here with Hope, I can go talk to Mac.” She walked to the window and glanced out. “I’m glad it’s staying light for longer periods of time. Too bad it’ll allow the army longer hours to search for Bear.”
Jillian felt sorry for Mary. “You love those people so much. I can’t even begin to comprehend all you feel for them. I love Hope and felt a kinship with Little Sister, but you know them all so well.”
Mary smiled. “Well, not all of them. You know there are quite a few Navajo living out there on the reservation. We only saw a handful who happened to live nearby. There are so many folks out there, though. Folks who are suffering and doin’ without. Folks who haven’t got anything but dislike for the white men who put them there and took away their freedom.”
“Someday it’ll be different, Mary. Someday they’ll know about Jesus, and it’ll be because of you and your love for them.”
Mary shook her head. “No, child. My love is quite limited. It’ll be because of God and His love. He sent His Son to die for them, same as you and me. When Jesus went to that cross, it wasn’t just for white-skinned folks. In fact, if you’ll look at folks from that part of the world, you’ll see their skin is more the color of the Navajo. Someday maybe skin color won’t matter. Maybe later, maybe sooner, but someday maybe the love will be enough.”
Jillian embraced Mary in a fierce hug. “Oh, Mary, love just has to be enough. It just has to be.”
TWENTY-FOUR
“JILLIAN DID WHAT?” Mac questioned the feisty woman who’d just marched through his door.
“I said she sent me to talk to you,” Mary replied.
“Why didn’t she come herself?”
Mary chuckled and looked her friend over. Mac had become like the son she’d never had. He had helped her many a time, and now she intended to return the favor.
“Mac, Jillian is worried about this marriage.”
Mac sat down hard. “I knew it. I just knew it. Here I thought I was doing the right thing.” He looked up with a lopsided smile. “Well, maybe not the right thing, but a good thing. I thought surely she wouldn’t mind being married to me. But she hates me, doesn’t she?”
Mary took pity on him as he ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. “You’re worse than any lovesick cowpoke I’ve ever known. You’d think you were a boy still wet behind the ears to listen to you talk.” Sh
e put her hands on her hips. “Terrance MacCallister, you ain’t usin’ the sense the good Lord put in that head of yours.”
Mac looked at her, his blue eyes searching her face for answers. “What are you saying, Mary?”
“I’m saying that Jillian didn’t send me over here for any such notion as to tell you that she hates bein’ married to you.”
He started to look hopeful. “Then what did she send you for?”
Mary smiled. “I just came from listenin’ to your wife take Jesus as her Savior.”
“Jillian?” Mac said with a grin. “That’s what this is about?”
With a nod, Mary pulled up a chair and continued. “Mac, she wants to know where you plan to spend eternity. She cares a mite deeply about you and wouldn’t want to be fussin’ and lovin’ over a man bent for hell.”
“Loving? Did she say that word?”
Mary laughed. “I ain’t here to talk about your matrimonial bliss. That’s up to Jillian. I’m simply here on a spiritual mission. Have you set things right with the Lord, Mac?”
He nodded as if he were a ten-year-old boy being asked if he’d studied his ciphers. “I knew the way, but my pride kept interfering. God helped me to see that I wasn’t fooling Him or anyone else with my self-reliance and strong-willed ways. I had a long talk with the Reverend. I asked God to forgive me—to take me back.”
“Good. Then Jillian has nothin’ to fear,” Mary said, slapping her hands on her knees.
“Jillian was afraid? Of me?” Mac questioned.
“Don’t look so heartbroke. She’s listened to those sermons preached about folks being unequally yoked, not to mention the things I’ve told her privately. She’s grown up a piece since comin’ to Arizona. Don’t you think?”
Mac nodded. “I think she’s wonderful, and knowing that she is at peace with God and the other situations in her life—well, who could want more for the woman he loves?”
Mary felt a strong sense of satisfaction in listening to Mac’s declaration. “Mac, there’s another matter I’d like to ask you about. I mean, I know I’ve spoke out of turn about it, but I’d like to know if you and Jillian would consider taking Hope to raise her for your own.”
“It’s a tremendous responsibility,” Mac replied. “However, I think we’d be hard-pressed to get that baby away from Jillian.”
“She’s caring for her right now. I don’t know when I’ve seen a more natural mother. She’s going to make a fine wife, in spite of its start as a ploy to fool her folks.”
“She told you?” Mac questioned in startled bewilderment. “I didn’t figure she’d tell anyone. I mean, it’s kind of embarrassing.”
“Her conscience was hurtin’ her somethin’ fierce. I’d imagine your own conscience wasn’t feelin’ too healthy these last few days.”
“Ah, but I wanted to marry Jillian.”
“Then why didn’t you just ask her?” Mary questioned. “Why all these games and lies?”
Mac shrugged. “I was afraid she wouldn’t feel the same way about me. I guess I was just so overwhelmed by feeling something so strong for a woman after all these years, and it scared me to think that she wouldn’t feel the same way. When she told me that she’d been writing letters back home to her parents, telling them that she’d fallen for me and that we were going to get married, well, frankly, I was as pleased as punch. I just didn’t see it going this far. I didn’t plan on her father thinking untrue notions about her, and I didn’t figure on forcing her into a wedding she didn’t want.”
“Well, at least you haven’t got that to worry over,” Mary said with a mischievous wink. “I ain’t never seen a woman more happily married.” “Are you sure, Mary? Don’t tease me about this.”
“I’ll let Jillian come and tell you herself. She’s practically bustin’ at the seams to do the deed,” Mary said, getting to her feet. “Zack Matthews doing okay?”
“He’s too stubborn to stay around long enough for me to make certain, but I think he’s doing fine. He rode out of here earlier, much to Miss Carson’s consternation.”
“Well, that’s what love’ll do for you,” Mary said with a laugh.
Mac got up and walked out with her. “Why don’t I accompany you to the hotel? That way, I can walk my wife back home.”
Mary nodded. “Sounds like a reasonable plan to me.”
The sunlight was fading against the horizon, where purple streaks shot out against the burnt orange, gold, and crimson skies. Thick, billowy white clouds lazed across the skies heading east into the navy blue of twilight. It seemed to Mary that the artistry of this land was often overlooked because of its seemingly barren state, but how could anyone not find God’s glory in a sky such as this?
Mac kept a tight grip on her arm as a number of cowboys rode hard and fast down Main Street. They were heading for O’Sullivan’s Saloon or the Mad Dog Saloon or any number of other drinking establishments. If they had one thing in abundance, it was places to get a drink and play a hand of cards. Mary was grateful for Mac’s escort, but she couldn’t help but feel her age as the cowboys went by, yelling and acting up for the sake of impressing the few ladies who were actually out on the streets.
I was young once too, she thought and smiled. And I wouldn’t go back to being young again for all the gold in Arizona.
Mac helped her inside the hotel just in time to come face-to-face with Gretchen and Colin Danvers.
“Why, Mr. and Mrs. Danvers,” Mary said, greeting them with genuine warmth.
“Mrs. Barnes,” Colin Danvers replied coolly. “Dr. MacCallister.”
“You gonna call him that now that he’s your son-in-law?” Mary questioned. She knew Danvers’ type. She knew that asking a bold question such as this, one that would put him on the spot, was the only way to deal with him.
“I hardly think calling him ‘son’ would be appropriate,” Danvers replied, scarcely missing a beat.
“How about Mac?” Mary suggested. “Everyone else calls him that. You might as well.”
Danvers ignored her. “Where’s my daughter?”
Mary smiled. “She’s upstairs in my room taking care of Hope.”
“That Indian baby?” Gretchen questioned in horror.
“That would be the one,” Mary replied. She felt sorry for Jillian’s mother. The woman looked as though she might faint, and from the sight of her narrow hourglass figure she could probably manage that easily enough without a shock to the system. Why these women of high-bred society insisted on lacing their corsets so tight as to be unable to draw breath was beyond Mary. She herself might sport a thick waist, but at least she could breathe. Besides, at her age, nobody was going to be caring about her waistline.
“See here, Mrs. Barnes,” Colin Danvers began, “I don’t appreciate your putting ridiculous notions in my daughter’s head. It is completely unacceptable for her to even consider raising that baby as her own.”
a Ve i l e d R e f l e c t i o n “Our own,” Mac corrected.
Danvers eyed him harshly. “You have no idea what you’d be up against. Society will never accept her. She’ll never be white enough to pass as white, and her darkness will separate her from everyone in our social circles.”
“But as we’ve discussed before, we won’t be living in your social circles,” Mac replied, his grip tightening on Mary’s arm.
“Look here, gentlemen,” Mary said, hoping to smooth things over, “the life of one infant shouldn’t cause so much upheaval. Not to say that children don’t manage to cause a ruckus when they come into a household, but this baby needs parents. Her ma is dead and her pa might as well be, for all he cares.”
“And her people have rejected her,” Danvers added.
Mary nodded quite soberly. “That’s true enough. No one outside of me and your daughter and son-in-law cares enough to keep this child alive.”
“Well, maybe that should have been considered before now.”
“Danvers, I’m going to try to forget you said that about your new granddau
ghter.”
“She’s no granddaughter of mine. She’s a half-breed!” Danvers replied angrily. “Better she would have died at birth. Better she’d be taken into the desert and left to die,” he growled. “She’ll never know anything but suffering. She’ll be mocked and taunted no matter where she goes.”
“So was our Lord, Mr. Danvers,” Mary replied, “but He proved himself to be of great value.”
Colin Danvers narrowed his eyes but said nothing more. She felt sorry for the man—even more so for the poor woman who stood teary-eyed at his side.
But then Mary began to truly wonder if giving Hope over to Jillian and Mac was such a good idea. The Danverses would obviously shun the child, and when Mac and Jillian started having a family of their own, it would be evident to Hope that she wasn’t being treated the same.
“Mac, I guess we’ve worn out our welcome. If you’ll see me to my room, you can collect your wife.”
Mac nodded. “Come on, Mary.”
They moved to the stairs, ignoring the fact that Danvers’ face was turning beet red in anger. He obviously wasn’t used to being dismissed, Mary decided.
“I wouldn’t pay him much mind,” Mary told Mac. “Fellows like that usually come around. You’ve just taken his daughter away from him and he’s lickin’ his wounds.”
“He’s just as rude and demanding as Jillian ever painted him. How could he be so cruel to Hope?”
“Many folks have made their own thoughts clear in that area, and, Mac,” she said as they reached the top of the stairs, “your father-inlaw is right about one thing.”
“What?”
“Hope is going to have a tough life ahead of her. She’ll never be easily accepted. No matter where she goes, someone is going to make trouble for her.”
Mac nodded. “I know. It’s just so unfair. She didn’t ask for this, Mary. And Little Sister wasn’t responsible for the rape. She had no power over Cooper.”
“Speaking of Mr. Cooper,” Mary questioned, “where did he get himself off to? I don’t even remember seeing him at the fire.”
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