“I’d say Joshua is love,” Morgan said.
“You mean the way the Bible defines love? Patient and kind, bearing, believing, hoping, and enduring of all things?”
“God’s message in a nutshell,” Morgan said.
“So that’s the answer? All one has to do is love? Morgan, tell me straight. What do you want from me?”
He didn’t answer.
“Do you want my love?”
He stiffened, made no comment.
“I’d love you in a heartbeat,” I said, “if that were the answer. Every bone in my body tells me you’d fulfill a need in me like no other man on this earth. I’d come so close to heaven, I’d be tempted to give up my search altogether, but then I ask myself, ‘At what price?’”
Still no comment.
“That’s why I can’t give in, Morgan. When I look into your eyes, see your tenderness, your strength, I want—”
“Stop it, Marjorie.”
“I just want—”
He grimaced as if my words were hurting him, and then he got up and walked away.
Too late, to retract my outburst of honesty, the truth I’d hidden for so long, even from myself. But I didn’t regret what I’d said. Secrets come out eventually, and Morgan had asked for it. Too bad I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted Cliff, and too bad he presented such a big threat to my freedom.
Losing my freedom, yet again, was not an option.
I watched the sunrise alone, nearly blinded by the intense light.
Maybe, that’s how it is with God. If I could actually see Him, I’d be blinded. Maybe, like the sun, the Great One is meant to be felt, not seen.
Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
Chapter Thirty-three
ON RE-ENTERING CAMP, I caught Pete squinting up at the sky, his face set in a scowl that did not lighten my day. Morgan was nowhere in sight. Dr. Mendez stood at the campfire, as usual, drinking coffee. I joined him and reached for a mug. “Have you seen Morgan?”
Doctor Mendez took a long, appreciative sip before answering, which had me wondering if anything at all escaped or perturbed him.
I picked up the makeshift coffeepot Pete had made out of an empty coffee can and started to pour the black, steamy liquid into my mug. I’d get my answer when the doctor was ready.
“Swing the can around a bit,” he said, “so the grounds concentrate on the bottom.”
Holding the coffee can by its wire handle, I did as he suggested, pretending that my question about Morgan mattered less than it did.
“He packed up and left,” the doctor said finally. “Said he wanted to take more camera shots and would meet up with us later.”
I tilted the mug to my lips to hide my disappointment.
“Ready for a big day?” he asked, the silky baritone of his voice smoothing some of the morning’s wrinkles.
I forced Morgan from my mind and stared at the towering clouds. “Yesterday, Veronica pointed out some thunderclouds.”
“We may encounter rain.”
“Are we still headed for the Tassajara Hot Springs region?”
“No reason to change the plan now, considering it brings us closer to civilization.”
“Civilization?”
“Our next stop is about six miles from the Tassajara Hot Springs, which includes a Zen Buddhist monastery and a nearby camping site.”
“I’m glad,” I said, “just in case . . .”
The doctor nodded.
“What do you think about Joshua?”
“So far, so good. I have resumed his meditation and breathing exercises during our camp breaks, and his bond with you and Gabriel appears to remain strong.”
“But today’s the day we pass through the area where he lost his parents.” Would Joshua’s meditation and breathing exercises and his bond with Gabriel and me be enough to counteract the pain he might experience? Would our attempt to help him give full expression to his emerging emotions do him more harm than good? I searched the doctor’s face for a clue as to his feelings about what we might encounter but perceived nothing—not a crease in his forehead, not a curve of his lips, not a shrug of his stocky shoulders.
“I fully agree that Joshua needs you,” I said. “But I still don’t get why Morgan asked you to stay.”
“He must have had a good reason.”
“That’s what worries me.”
“Worrying won’t help.”
Between Will and Surrender Page 21