The Holy Warrior (36 page)

“I know. I will miss her.” Then he hesitated. “Tonight she told me something.”

“What?” Chris asked.

“I—I am afraid to say.”

Chris did not press him, but he ducked his head and said, “She said I would not always be without a mother.”

Chris’s hand tightened on Missy’s shoulder, and she bit her lip. He turned toward her, keeping one hand on Sky, and his eyes searched her face. Her thoughts tumbled wildly as she returned his gaze. Then his lips formed the word: “Yes?”

She sat there, bathed in the warm moonlight, and thought of the love that had always been there for him—even when she had been a child; and almost without a thought she nodded, and a smile curved her lips.
Yes! Chris, Oh, yes!

He read her eyes, and his hand lifted and touched her face as he directed his words at Sky. “Your mother was a very wise woman, son. I think you can believe anything she told you.”

Sky slowly lifted his head. He leaned forward, his eyes resting on Missy, studying her face carefully. He looked very young—and very frightened—but Missy reached out and took his hand, smiling as only she could, as a rush of love for the boy swept over her.

Sky Winslow began to breathe deeply as a peace such as he had never known in all his eleven years filled his heart.

“Let’s go back now,” Chris suggested. And as they walked, hand in hand under the silver moonlight, the three shadows behind them melted into one.

GILBERT MORRIS spent ten years as a pastor before becoming Professor of English at Ouachita Baptist University in Arkansas and earning a Ph.D. at the University of Arkansas. A prolific writer, he has had over 25 scholarly articles and 200 poems published in various periodicals, and over the past years has had more than 180 novels published. His family includes three grown children. He and his wife live in Gulf Shores, Alabama.