He shook his head sadly. “No, I don’t reckon there’s anything like that.” He clasped one big hand into a fist, and a streak of anger stirred his voice. “Why did it have to happen to me? What’s God mad at me for?”
Dani said, “God isn’t mad at you. That’s not the way to think of it—though we all do, when we get in serious trouble.” She paused, then said, “Remember the first book of the Bible? ‘In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.’ Then when He was finished, it says in the last verse of chapter one, ‘And God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good. . . .’” Dani smiled and said, “But it didn’t stay good.”
Wilson nodded. “No, I remember that from Sunday school, when I was a kid. Adam and Eve got kicked out of the Garden, didn’t they?”
“Yes. And the world went bad.” Dani explained, “God put a curse on the earth and on man—and ever since that time, people have lived in a world that doesn’t work. There was no death in the Garden, but as it says in Hebrews 9:27, ‘It is appointed unto men once to die. . . .’ There was no sickness or pain for Adam or Eve, until they broke God’s law and were driven out—but now we all live in a world that’s filled with disease and death.”
Wilson nodded, and bitterness turned his lips down. “Not much of a world, is it?”
Dani said quickly, “But this isn’t the only world, Mr. Wilson—and even in this world there’s hope.”
He looked at her uneasily, and there was doubt in his simple face. “I guess you mean Jesus, don’t you, miss?”
“Yes. He’s my hope. And I’ll face death myself, won’t I? Maybe this plane will go down—but if it does, I’ll face death with Him on my side.” She hesitated, then asked, “Mr. Wilson, may I read from the Bible what Jesus can do for you?”
He sat there, unmoving, and for one instant she thought he meant to refuse her request. She feared rejection and for that reason had never been able to press people to accept God into their lives. Even as she waited, she knew that she had stepped over some sort of boundary. Never again would she be able to sit silently, for God seemed to be saying to her: This is the way for you—to declare My Name to those who need it.
“Well, sure you can, miss,” Wilson said suddenly. Dani began turning from Scripture to Scripture, reading carefully and marking them, watching his face as she read. At one point she became vaguely aware that Lance Apollo had returned and had taken his seat beside her. Ordinarily that would have embarrassed her, but she took no note, for there was a certainty in her that she had never known in her efforts to serve God.
“But it seems like such a poor thing to do. I mean, I’ve been ignoring God all my life—and now to come runnin’ to Him, when I’m finished—” Wilson objected.
“Don’t think of it like that,” she said. “In the first place, He’s never yet refused anyone who asked in faith. We just read about the thief on the cross. And in the second place, you may not be finished.”
“You mean God might heal me?”
“He might. He’s done it before.” Dani thought quickly and said. “Did you ever hear the story of the three Hebrew children who were about to be thrown into a fiery furnace?”
“Think I did.”
“When the king threatened them with death, they gave an answer that I’ve loved all my life. It’s my own motto, I guess.”
“What did they say?”
Dani found the place in her Bible and read it carefully: “‘O Nebuchadnezzar, we are not careful to answer thee in this matter. If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thine hand, O king. But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods. . . .’” She looked up and said, “They said, ‘God is able to deliver us, if that is His will’—but then they said, ‘if not,’ and that’s what I live by.” She closed her Bible and laid her hand gently on his arm. Her voice was warm as she added, “I believe that God is able to do anything for me, to deliver me from any trouble. But if not, that is, if He chooses not to do so, why, that doesn’t change what He is or prove that He loves me any less. Can you see that?”
“Fasten your seat belts, please. We will be landing in five minutes.”
Dani looked up with a start at the announcement that had come over the speaker, then quickly said, “Mr. Wilson, we’ll be landing soon. Will you let me pray with you?” She had never done this before, and she was intensely aware that Apollo, on her right, was listening—but there was no way that she could do anything else.
“I—I don’t know how to pray,” Wilson whispered, shaking his head.
She took a few minutes to instruct him. As the plane dipped forward she began to pray a simple prayer for him. She took his hand, and just as the wheels struck the ground with a sharp thump, he lifted his head and looked at her with blank astonishment. The brakes caught, throwing them forward slightly. As they settled back, he took a deep breath and said, “I—I don’t know what it is—but I’m not afraid anymore.”
Her heart seemed to leap for joy, and tears filled her eyes. She whispered, “That’s what Jesus does, Frank!”
They sat silently as the plane turned and began taxiing down the long strip that led to the low buildings in front of the flight tower. “But—am I healed?” he asked as passengers got up and began pulling their baggage down.
Dani said, “I don’t know. But you’ve got Jesus on your side now. I’m going to pray for you to be healed—but if not, you’re a child of God.” Again she prayed for God to give him health. Aware that the passengers were filing off, she took a card out of her purse, wrote a number on it, placed it in the Bible, and handed it to him. “Take the Bible and study the verses I marked. Call me if you like. I’ll be in New Orleans for a few months.”
She got to her feet, noting that Apollo had pulled down his suitcase but was standing back, watching them. Frank Wilson pulled himself up, took a worn, brown vinyl suitcase out of the compartment, then stopped to look at her. “I’ll never forget you, Miss Ross!” Tears came into his eyes, and he put his hand out, giving hers a firm shake. “God bless you.”
He turned, and Dani said, “Call me if you need help.”
She stood there, watching him leave, and heard Lance Apollo say, “That guy—he’s bought it?”
Dani faced him and asked, “Bought what?”
Apollo’s eyes were thoughtful, and he shook his head. “Going to die, is he? Did I pick that up right?”
“That’s what the doctors have said.”
“And now he’s on a religious trip.” He shrugged his heavy shoulders. “Well, can’t blame him much. I might do the same, if my number was about to be called.”
He stooped and picked up his flight bag and started to leave, but she said quickly, “I’m sorry about that coffee.”
He gave her a sudden grin. “Aw, what’s the diff?” He looked at her carefully, shook his head, and said in wonder, “Preacher lady, you are a trip! Gimme one of your cards, hey? Maybe I’ll need a preacher myself, sometime.”
She reached into her purse, took out a card, and wrote her number on it. When she handed him the card, he stared at it, then read aloud: “Danielle Ross. CPA. Office of the Attorney General, State of Massachusetts.”
He gave her a startled look, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Wait a minute! What’s this attorney general stuff? I don’t see nothing about a preacher. You some kind of fuzz?”
“Used to be, Lance, in a way. That’s an old card. I worked with the attorney general’s office for a while before I went to seminary. That’s my parents’ number I’ve written on it.” She smiled at him. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll have dinner together sometime—and you can go to church with me.”
The idea amused him, and he slipped the card in his pocket. “Maybe so, Ross—but it sure seems as if the good Lord made a mistake with you.”
“Mistake?”
“Yeah, wasting those big eyes and all those curves on a preacher!” He laughed, put out
his hand, and when she took it, he nodded. “See you in church.”
He left the plane at a swift walk, and Dani retrieved her flight bag from the overhead compartment, then moved along the aisle. She smiled at the red-haired stewardess, who returned it with a sly grin, saying, “Watch out for the big, bad wolf, honey!”
“Not to worry,” Dani answered. “My house is built out of bricks.”
A blast of hot air struck Dani as she left the airport, after collecting her luggage. Somehow she had almost forgotten the oppressive, humid heat of Louisiana. It had been cool in Boston, and she wore clothing suited to that weather, but by the time she got into the cab, perspiration was already gathering on her face.
“Take me to Mandeville,” she instructed the driver. “I’ll tell you which way to go when we get there.” He pulled out with alacrity, handling the cab with a touch of daring. As he turned onto Lake Pontchartrain Causeway she watched the gulls wheeling and screaming and felt a brief gladness at the thought of seeing her family—but that faded as the cab sped along the ribbon of concrete that spanned the lake.
Dani hadn’t been in New Orleans for nearly a year, and this trip was not of her choosing. She sat back, looking out the window, thinking of the letter in her purse. “If you could come and work with the agency for just a few weeks, it would be a great help.” Not a very urgent request, but from her father it was the equivalent of a desperate scream.
Her father’s heart attack, the previous July, had come without warning, and she had flown to Houston for his triple-bypass surgery. Her mother, usually strong in a crisis, had been unexpectedly devastated by her husband’s illness, and she’d turned to Dani, as had Rob and Allison, Dani’s younger brother and sister.
Her father had recuperated well, but even after she returned to Hayworth, Dani had felt the grasping tentacles of responsibility at home. At first nothing had been said about her coming back, but she read between the lines that things were not going at all well. Her father’s business, Ross Investigation Agency, was so firmly built around the integrity and drive of Daniel Clark Ross that the hired help could not do. In his letters hints of trouble had come in the form of brief statements: “The new man didn’t work out.” “We lost the Adkins account this week; they demand a great deal, I suppose.”
Dani looked out at the lake, thinking of the heavy feeling that had come the previous Wednesday when she’d received the letter asking her to come home and help “just for a few weeks.”
There had been no choice, of course. She had dropped all her courses, said good-bye to all her professors (who’d done all they could to encourage her to stay), sublet her apartment, and stored the furniture. Common sense told her to sell it, that she’d be in New Orleans a long time; however, she’d lifted her chin and told herself that she’d be back again someday.
The cabbie wheeled off the Causeway, catching Highway 22, and sped through Mandeville. Dani leaned forward to say, “Take the first left—by the gas station.” He made the turn, and as she looked at the familiar landscape, she stirred herself, thinking: Brace up, Dani—you’re crying like a baby! What about all those Scriptures you’re always spouting? “In every thing give thanks. . . .” “. . . All things work together for good. . . .” She forced her shoulders back and glanced out at the beginning of the oaks, bearing their loads of Spanish moss, that lined the road.
“That’s it,” she said and leaned forward to gesture at the two-story house on the left. The cabbie pulled up in the circular driveway.
Dani got out and paid the fare, adding a five-dollar tip. “Just put the bags on the porch, will you, driver?” She didn’t wait for his answer, for she was running awkwardly, in her four-inch heels, to the fence that ran parallel to the house; a rust-colored quarter horse behind the bars was bowing and throwing his head up at the sight of her.
No trace of sadness in Dani’s face now! She reached the fence and took the long Roman nose of the horse in both arms, laughing and crying out, “Biscuit! You son of a gun!”
She stood there stroking his nose and laughing as he nudged at her neck, nibbling at her gently with his velvet muzzle. “You just wait until tomorrow!” she threatened. “You’ve been soldiering long enough! I’ll run that fat off you—why, I’ll bet you couldn’t run the barrels in half a day!”
As she turned and moved back toward the house, Dani felt happier than she’d been since she’d gotten the letter. She had always loved horses and at one time had cared for nothing in the world but running the barrels in high-school rodeos. She thought of the joy that had been like heaven when she and Biscuit had won the National Championship in Tulsa. She smiled ruefully and thought, We’re a little too old for that now, aren’t we, Biscuit? But not too old to do a lot of riding.
Her mother and sister stood on the porch, waiting for her, and as she trudged toward them, Dani thought how she loved the old house that had been her home until she left for college. It was only ten acres, but it looked much larger, for it was a long rectangle facing the road for a quarter of a mile. It was a restored planter’s house in the Louisiana style—plain enough, except for the eight pillars that rose in front to the roofline. It had been cheap enough, back in the day when Daniel Ross had bought it, and he had spent many hours restoring it.
At the foot of the steps Allison, age fifteen, tackled her with a force that almost brought them both down. “Hey, you’re getting to be a little large for that!” Dani laughed and looked down at her sister. Allison was a slow bloomer and showed only traces of Dani’s beauty. She was painfully shy and now stepped back, embarrassed at having shown so much emotion. Quickly Dani embraced her and kissed her soundly. “It’s so good to see you, Allison.” She smiled warmly. “We’re going to have lots of time to do things together, aren’t we?”
The words brought a glow to the youngster’s cheeks, and she nodded quickly. Dani gave her a squeeze, her conscience gnawing at her. Should have written her more, she thought as she turned to her mother. I think she’s had a hard time—and I haven’t done much to help.
“Dani, you’re looking tired,” her mother said as she took her kiss then had a long look at her daughter.
Dani looked at Ellen Anne Ross, who was only forty-four and looked even younger, and said, “I’ll make you wait on me until I get rested up, Mom.” But she was thinking that her mother looked exhausted and worried. In Dani’s eyes her mother was the most beautiful woman in the world. She had been one of those tall, ash-blond Texas beauties who never seem to lose the battle to old age. But the brow was lined now, in a way Dani had never seen before, and she knew that she hadn’t come home too soon.
They moved into the house, all three of them talking at once. “Your father is asleep,” Ellen said finally. “You go lie down for a little while; then we’ll have dinner.” She smiled and embraced Dani, saying, “What you need is about two yards of boudin and a bowl of crawfish étoufée!”
Dani noticed just a trace of clinging in her mother’s embrace and understood that it was part of the relief Ellen felt at having her home. They would all be expecting her to take the strain off the house, bringing the agency back to full efficiency and standing in the gap. Well, that’s what I came back for, she thought.
The three of them took her bags up to the second floor, to her old room, which had not been changed at all: a big room with a heart-pine floor, a ten-foot ceiling, and a huge oak bed with a canopy that seemed to fly.
It was nearly dark outside, and Dani soon dozed off, looking out the large, mullioned window, avoiding the thoughts of difficulties that lay ahead. She awoke when Allison’s voice came through the door: “Time for dinner, Dani.”
She rose, stretched, brushed at her hair, then went down the curving staircase. Her father was waiting for her, and she went to him, putting her arms around his neck and kissing him with a loud smack. Then she stepped back and said saucily, with a gleam in her gray-green eyes, “Why you fraud—you look healthy as a horse! You’re just playing sick to get me to do all your work!”
It was the line she’d decided to take, but in fact her father looked better than she had expected. He was one month over sixty and with his beautiful white hair and classic features, was one of the handsomest men she’d ever seen. He had always been strong, and the first sign of his illness she had seen was the pallor that lightened his usually tanned skin. Closer contact had revealed a certain weakness in his grip and a loss of some of the dynamic strength in his face.
“I’m sorry I had to ask you to leave school, Dani,” he apologized.
“Oh, don’t be silly!” She laughed and, linking her arm with his, added, “I was getting too bookish anyway. Besides, I won’t be here all that long. You’ll be back in harness again in no time.”
“I hope so, Dani,” he said, and she noted that the heart attack had taken more optimism out of him than she had thought. The illness that had reached out and struck him flat had taught her father to feel his mortality.
They went into the long dining room, and she gave a pleased cry. “Why, look at this! The good china and everything!” The table was set with the white damask linen, and silver, crystal, and china gleamed in the pure light of the antique chandelier. She sat down in the chair on her father’s left and looked around. “Rob’s not here?”
“He’ll be in before we’re through, I hope,” Ellen said, and a slight hesitation in her voice caused Dani to ask no more.
“I made the crawfish étoufée, Dani!” Allison piped up. “I can make it as good as Mama now.”
“Well, let’s bless it and see if you’re boasting,” Daniel commented. They all bowed their heads, and he said quietly, “Thank You, dear Lord, for this food. Thank You for our family and for all the blessings You have poured out upon us in the name of Jesus.”
They all began filling their plates, and Dani felt a lump in her throat as memories of a thousand meals just like this came to her. She shook her head and plunged into the étoufée, stuffed crabs, red beans and rice, and boudin—the hot, spicy sausage she loved—all with spicy Cajun seasoning.
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