“What if you don’t let him?” Bake asked, a puzzled frown on his face. It was not like anything he’d heard in his brief visits to church.
“Then we have to pay for it!” Dani admitted wryly. “And it hurts, Bake! Once you’ve known the love of Jesus and the Spirit of God inside, when you offend him, it’s mighty lonesome!”
“Oh, he runs off and leaves you?”
“No, no more than a loving father or mother would abandon a child who’d done wrong.” Dani struggled for a way to explain; but all the theology she’d learned at seminary seemed to be too complex. Finally she explained, “Bake, I have a wonderful father. His name is Daniel. All my life he’s been there when I needed him. We’ve always been very close. But sometimes, when I was a little girl, I’d disobey him. When I did, it wasn’t so bad when he paddled me.” Her eyes grew warm as she spoke of her father, and she smiled ruefully. “I could take that. But it was the look in his eyes, when I’d see that I’d really hurt and disappointed him! Boy, that was what ate my lunch! So it wasn’t that I’d get a paddling, and it wasn’t that I was afraid he’d chase me off. It was just that when we weren’t close, because I’d let him down some way—it always broke my heart, and I’d find myself going to him, crying, and asking him to forgive me.”
“That’s pretty nice, Dani,” Bake said. “You’re telling me God is like that with you?”
“He’s like that—with everybody, Bake. That’s the way he is. Nobody is really right until they know God. That’s what we’re made for.”
Fighting Bill Baker came scurrying across the dusty pens, calling out in his terrific bass voice, “Hey, Bake! Ya think we better get them horses loaded now, or whatta ya think?”
“Guess so, Bill,” Bake answered. He was a tall, fine-looking man as he stood there, with the sun catching the lights in his curly red hair. His dark blue eyes regarded Dani carefully, and finally he said, “You’re nice to have around, Dani. If I didn’t know you were spoken for, I’d maybe throw my hat in the ring.”
“Spoken for?” Dani asked in surprise.
“Why, I figured you and Luke were together,” he countered. When she shook her head, he smiled. “Well, you could have fooled me. I didn’t want to get that guy riled up. He’d pound me into the ground! Well, see you in Baton Rouge on Monday, Dani.”
Dani said her good-bye, then went back to the motel. She showered, then watched Flying Aces, a Laurel and Hardy comedy. Right in the middle of it, she was swept with a sudden sense of loneliness. She had watched one of Laurel and Hardy’s old films just a week earlier—and at their antics Megan had collapsed with helpless laughter. Dani could almost feel Megan’s arms, for the girl had shrieked and clung to her, laughing helplessly until tears ran down her cheeks. They had watched three old comedies, staying awake until almost dawn, then had gone for pancakes and bacon as the sun came up.
Dani struggled with the grief that swept over her, the frustrating sense of loss that was like nothing else. But as the fat man and the skinny man cavorted on the screen, both of them long dead and buried, Dani could not control the tears. She got out of bed and turned the movie off, then washed her face and sat down at the small table. When she came to the sixty-ninth Psalm, the words seemed to leap out at her:
Save me, O God; for the waters are come in unto my soul. I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing: I am come into deep waters, where the floods overflow me. I am weary of my crying: my throat is dried: mine eyes fail while I wait for my God.
She let those words sink into her heart, thinking, This man knew what it was—he felt just as I feel now.
She began to pray, and the grief began to ebb, leaving in her spirit a warm and comforting peace. Finally she read near the end of the psalm: “I will praise the name of God with a song, and will magnify him with thanksgiving.”
She closed the Bible and went to bed, and the last thought in her mind before she slept was Thank you, Lord, for letting me have Megan even for a little time. Now she is with you, and I will see her again someday!
18
Sixkiller’s Hour
* * *
The Baton Rouge rodeo didn’t start until Monday, so both Dani and Luke slept in the day before. They got up at nine, met for a leisurely breakfast, then loaded Big Boy in the trailer. Dani led the way out of town, with Luke following her in Ben’s Ford. The leaves were changing early, their red, orange, and brilliant yellows turning the mountain slopes into a crazy quilt. On Interstate 40 from Fort Smith to Little Rock, the hills lifted on either side of the highway, holding it carefully in a valley. As they passed by Lake Dardanelle, Dani noticed the huge, squat form of a nuclear stack belching forth white spumes of vapor. They could have put that thing in an ugly part of the world, instead of spoiling a nice place, she decided.
At eleven she spotted a small white church on the highway just west of a little town with the poetic name of Mayflower. A whim took her, and she pulled off onto the graveled parking lot. Sixkiller pulled in beside her and got out to ask, “Car trouble?”
“Nope. It’s time for church.”
Sixkiller looked around at the small church, then back to her. “Ross, you are a piece of work!” he attested, but didn’t argue with her. The two of them went inside and instantly became the target of all eyes. There were no more than thirty people in the unpadded pine pews, and every one of them turned to watch as Dani and Luke took a seat.
The minister, a young man in his twenties, came at once to greet them. “I’m Dale Houseman. Glad to have you in the service,” he offered shyly. He was thin and wore a threadbare suit with broad lapels—a style that was years out of style. “You’re just driving through?”
“Yes,” Dani smiled at him, and he blushed.
“Well, just join right in.” He hesitated, then bit his lip nervously. “I hope you’re not going to be disappointed. This is only my second Sunday as pastor. I—I haven’t had much experience.”
Luke looked at the young man and suddenly put out his hand. “Turn your wolf loose, Preacher!” he said loudly. “You got a prime sinner here to practice on!”
Pastor Houseman was taken aback, for a small sound of giggling followed Sixkiller’s announcement. He swallowed hard, then nodded. A smile touched his lips, and he assured Luke “Jesus came to save sinners.”
He turned and walked quickly back to the pulpit, nodding at an elderly man wearing a new pair of Big Smith overalls, who jumped up and cried, “Let’s all stand and begin our service by singing hymn number one twenty-six. Everybody sing, now!” The pianist, a smiling young woman with bright eyes and not much musical talent began playing with enthusiasm.
Dani stood with the others and tried as best she could to get into the worship service. But she had difficulty. Not only was the piano player completely without a sense of timing, but the song leader was apparently tone deaf. He sang every hymn off-key, but was happily unaware of it. Dani felt heartily glad when the song service was over, but soon found that the sermon had to wait on a program by the youth. They had been, it appeared, to a camp outside of Little Rock, and the pastor wanted them to share their “testimonies” with the church.
A more reluctant crew Dani could not imagine! The smallest ones simply stood there, staring blindly out at the congregation, and the older ones were kept on the griddle until they said something good about their experience. Dani suddenly remembered that she and Rob, her brother, had been put through the same torture once after a Christian camp, and she had resolved that if she had anything to say about it, she would never lay such a burden on mere children!
Finally the preacher came to stand in the pulpit, and his hands trembled so violently that he dropped his notes—several pages of them—before he could even read his text. Finally he retrieved them, and with his face pale as paper read a few verses in a voice that threatened to break at any moment.
“My text is found in the Book of Daniel, the seventh chapter.” He began to read, and to Dani’s dismay, continued through the entire chapter. He wa
s a poor reader, and the chapter set forth a vision seen by the prophet. It was filled with great beasts—lions with eagle’s wings, a bear with three ribs in his mouth, a leopard with four wings and four heads, and one especially fierce beast with ten horns.
When Reverend Houseman had waded through the entire chapter, he said, “We will begin our study of the meaning of Daniel’s prophecy, starting with verse four, where we left off last Sunday morning. . . .”
For forty-five minutes Dani sat there, her backside growing numb from the hard slats of the rough pew and her mind dulled by the intricate points of the sermon. She felt completely embarrassed for bringing Luke to such a service. It had been in her mind to expose him to the simple gospel, but she saw that young Pastor Houseman had been afflicted by what she called the prophecy virus, the tendency to become so enamored with the prophetic element in the Scripture that one could talk of nothing else. There was something almost diseased to it, and she had seen some bright young Christians who were faithful and productive servants rendered practically useless as they read innumerable books, attended prophetic conferences all over the country, and became too busy to carry on with the work of their churches.
Dani saw a sweet spirit in the young pastor, and she suspected that he had fallen under the spell of some highly gifted and magnetic teacher who was caught up in prophecy, whose work he was rehashing.
Finally he began to run down, and Dani heaved a sigh of relief. She had not dared look at Luke, thinking that he was planning to bawl her out for dragging him in to hear such a crashing bore.
Then the young man admitted, “I don’t really know what your needs are. But I know what your answer is.” He spoke earnestly for no longer than four or five minutes, telling how Jesus Christ had changed his life. “I hope that none of you will leave this place unsaved. Remember the Scripture says in Acts seven, verse fifty-one: ‘Ye stiffnecked and uncircumcised in heart and ears, ye do always resist the Holy Ghost. . . .’”
As the pastor spoke those words and paused, Dani felt Luke’s elbow strike her arm. Turning, she saw that his face was twitching, and his lips were trembling. Glancing down, she saw that his strong hands were clasped together, but even that didn’t conceal the tremor in them.
The preacher, unaware of the impact of his words, went on, “These were the words of the first Christian to die for Jesus, you will remember, and as he died he cried out, ‘I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God.’ When they stoned him to death, he cried out with a loud voice, ‘Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.’”
“If you need to be saved,” Pastor Houseman invited, “come forward, and we’ll pray for you.”
Pastor Houseman got the shock of his young life—for the broad-shouldered Indian dressed in Wranglers and a black cowboy shirt got up and stepped out into the aisle, treading on Dani’s foot in the process. When he got to the front of the room, with tears running down his cheeks, he conceded, “I guess the bloodhound has caught me, Preacher. Start praying!”
Dale Houseman didn’t have the vaguest idea what the cowboy meant by that, nor did he know what to do with the seeker. But an elderly woman in the first row did. She threw up her hands, shouting, “Glory to God and the Lamb forever!” Then she flew to Sixkiller and shouted, “Sonny, get on your knees!”
Dani sat there trembling as people crowded around Luke and began praying at the top of their lungs. As many as could get close put their hands on his shoulders or head or any portion of his body they could reach.
Dani wanted to scream, No! That’s not the way! You’ll scare him to death with all that emotionalism! But it seemed out of control, so she just slipped to her knees and began to pray for Luke. She was accustomed to quiet, dignified services, and the cries and moans of the people near Luke distracted her. But she prayed anyway—harder than she knew—for suddenly she was aware of a hard hand on her shoulder.
Startled, she looked up to see the elderly song leader standing over her, tears running down his brown cheeks, but with joy in his bright blue eyes. “You can shout now, Daughter!” he cried. “Your man’s done come through! He’s washed by the blood of Jesus! Praise God!”
Dani could not get up, so he put his hard hands under her arms and pulled her to her feet. “Ain’t that a sight, Daughter!” he exclaimed, waving toward the front of the church.
Dani stared at Luke, who was surrounded by the entire congregation, it seemed. His face was wet with tears. Dani had never seen him show any emotion to speak of, but now the barrier he kept between himself and the world was down. He suddenly lifted his hands and looked upward, and she heard him cry, “Thank you, God!” The worshipers joined in, and to her total surprise, Dani heard herself crying out to God with an unusual fervency.
Then the song leader said, “Go on, Daughter! Give your man some help!”
He gave Dani a little shove, and she moved down the aisle, her eyes fixed on Luke. He saw her coming, and his eyes leaped toward her. Then she ran to him, crying, “Oh, Luke! Luke!”
She could say no more, for she was weeping with great, choking sobs, holding on to him with a fierce strength, and his powerful arms drew her close. They stood there, suddenly unaware of the laughter and shouting of the other people. Dani had longed for Luke to know God, but had had little faith. He had been so hard and unyielding!
Now, as she finally stepped back and looked up into his eyes, she saw something new. Those eyes were still black as night—but there was a softness in them, and she reached up and touched his tear-stained cheek, whispering so quietly that only he could hear it, “Welcome home, Luke!”
To her surprise, afterward Dani discovered that her memory of the rest of that day was vague and fragmentary. She remembered well that Luke had insisted on being baptized—right then! They had all gone to Lake Conway, where Pastor Houseman immersed Luke in plain view of several bass fisherman. Dani had the presence of mind to use Megan’s video camera—a gift presented to her by Megan’s father—and that scene was there for them to watch. She got one still picture with her Minolta, and it was enlarged and placed next to the portrait of her Civil War ancestor.
But after the baptizing, she could not remember details. She led the way through Little Rock, then took 167 past El Dorado and on into Louisiana, but it was all a blur. She could remember that many times Luke passed her in the Ford, pointed to a small cafe, and they got out. As they drank coffee, he talked, his face lit with excitement, and he asked her questions—Bible questions, some that she had trouble answering.
They got to Baton Rouge late that night and both checked into the Courtyard, but got little sleep. He took her out to Shoney’s, and they ate breakfast—and still he talked.
Finally Luke grew quiet and she sat there, staring at him. “Luke, I’m so tired I can hardly sit up!”
He looked at her, then agreed, “Me, too. But I’m too excited to sleep.” He closed his eyes, but almost at once opened them. “What happened, Dani? How come I got saved at that little church?”
Dani had thought about it a great deal. She disclosed, “I think it was partly for my sake, Luke. I had some pretty firm opinions about how people came to God. They had to go through certain steps, and if they made them all, they were saved.” Then she laughed and put her hand on his arm. “But you broke every rule, Luke Sixkiller! All of them!” Shaking her head she said, “It was a terrible song service. I thought you had to have beautiful worship. It was an awful sermon! Poor Pastor Dale! And then when God did start dealing with you, oh, my! What a mess!”
“It just about scared me to death,” Luke admitted. “I went to a Pentecostal-type church once, when I was just a kid. I thought they were all nuts!”
Dani bit her lip, then conceded, “I would have said it more gracefully, Luke, but I thought about the same. But no more! I learned something today, Luke. God can use any method he wants to—And he can throw any of our methods out the window.”
Luke spoke thoughtfully, “That really was a dull sermon. I didn’t
understand one word of it. But when he read that Scripture about ‘You do always resist the Holy Ghost,’ it was like getting shot in the heart! That did me in, Dani, and when he talked about the guy seeing Jesus—I don’t know, it just was like. . . .”
“Was like what, Luke?” Dani asked quietly.
“Well, don’t think I’m nuts,” he declared, his face intensely sober. “But just for a second, well, it was like I could see Jesus, too! Oh, not plain, maybe, but I thought he was there, looking at me, and I started to cry.” He looked at her. “Dani, I haven’t cried since I was ten years old!”
“That’s—that’s beautiful, Luke!” Dani exclaimed. “I’m so happy for you!”
He nodded. “Dani, I see what you’ve been going through. About shooting that guy.” He thought hard, then looked down at his hands. Looking up he acknowledged, “It’s going to be pretty tough, being a detective of homicide and a Christian.”
“Don’t worry, Luke.” Dani smiled. A thought made her lips grow soft, and she said, “You’re under new management, Luke. No telling what God will do with you!”
19
Deep River
* * *
The LSU Rodeo and Livestock Show was held in John R Parker Coliseum, a large, stucco, domed arena on the campus of Louisiana State University. After riding in the vast universe of the Astrodome and under the open skies in Fort Smith, Dani felt cramped and uncomfortable here. There was no chance to practice, so on Monday night, she shot out into the arena at full speed, then spotted the barrels, much closer than she had anticipated. Ruth had tried to warn her about this, but she overreacted, yanking Big Boy’s head around much too soon. It confused the big horse, and he swung to the right instantly. The timing was off, and when he careened around the barrel, he struck it solidly, sending it rolling. This upset Dani, and it didn’t help matters when the next two barrels went the same way.
Revenge at the Rodeo Page 24