The Shepherd's Voice (27 page)

Dusk settled early over Dundreggan, a pewter cloak dropped upon a valley turned gold, red, and orange in the final days of October.

As the darkness of evening entered the house, Akira lit the kerosene lamps while continuing to pray. Her prayers consisted of the same words, repeated time and again: “Not my will but Thine, Lord. Not my will but Thine.”

Cam alerted Akira to Gabe’s return. The dog lifted her head and whimpered softly, looking toward the door. A moment later, it opened, and her husband stepped inside.

Their gazes met across the living room.

Akira felt lightheaded; her knees were weak. With joy? With relief? She didn’t know, didn’t care. All that mattered was that he’d returned.

Gabe closed the door, pushing it with the heel of his boot, shutting out the crisp night air.

She wanted to run to him, to hold him, to tell him she loved him. She didn’t move.

“Akira,” he said at last, “I’m sorry.”

“No, Gabe, it’s I who —”

“Please.” He raised a hand, palm out. “Let me have my say.”

She swallowed the rest of her protest.

“I’m sorry I’ve refused to talk, and I’m sorry I’ve refused to listen.”

Not my will but Thine.

“I’ve been walking all this time. Walking and sitting, thinking and praying.” He looked down at the floor, then up at her again. “I think God’s been talking to me.”

Tears burned her eyes.

He raked the fingers of one hand through his hair. “I don’t know if this is going to make sense, but I feel like He’s telling me to go up into the hills for a while. Just Him and me.” His voice lowered.
“So I can
know
Him.” He took a step toward her. “But I’m not running away. Not from you. Not from the folks in Ransom. Not from Danny Peck and not from my father. Do you understand?”

She nodded, although she didn’t understand. Not completely.

“You see, I think I’ve stayed in a prison of my own making. Even after Jesus set me free, that’s where I’ve stayed. Because it was familiar. Because I was used to it. Because I didn’t think I deserved anything better than that. But I don’t want to stay in that prison any longer.” He shrugged and shook his head slowly. “Sounds a bit crazy, I guess.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“You’ll be all right while I’m gone?”

She couldn’t speak for the lump in her throat, so she nodded a second time.

Several long strides reduced the remaining distance between them. He took hold of her upper arms, his grasp gentle. “When I get back …” He didn’t finish the sentence, instead letting it drift into silence.

But there was a wondrous love shining in his eyes. He didn’t have to say the words for her to hear them with her heart.

She threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself into his embrace. “I know, Gabriel. I know. Go with God. Go into the mountains, and come back to me at the proper time. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

NINETEEN

Gabe had only been gone a few days, and already it seemed months. Akira almost wished she was still busy with canning or that it was lambing season or any season when there was enough work to keep her going from dawn to dusk. But early winter was upon them now, and while there was plenty to do on Dundreggan at any time of year, this November had far too many idle hours. Or maybe it was Akira’s frame of mind that made it seem that way.

“’Tis a fine thing, yer husband leavin’ ye alone,” Brodie grumbled as Akira ladled hot cider from the kettle on the stove into a large ceramic mug. “Ye shouldn’t have let him go, lass.”

“Oh, my dear friend, I wouldn’t have stopped him, even if I could. God called him away.”

“Ach!
I’ll never understand ye and the way ye think.”

Arriving at the table with the cider, she kissed his bewhiskered cheek. “You will one day. I’m praying for you, Brodie.”

He grunted. “Ye’ll not be makin’ a saint out o’ me.”

“Nothing is impossible with God.” She smiled at him.

“Mmm.”

Cam rose from the rug near the stove and padded across the kitchen to stand near the front door. Her ears were cocked forward, her head tilted to one side as she listened intently.

Maybe he’s back!
Akira thought as she hurried to the window, looking out just as the chauffeur-driven automobile came into view.

“Who’s come?” Brodie asked.

“Pauline Talmadge.”

He made a sound of displeasure as his chair scraped back from the table. “I’ll be going about my business, then.”

“Brodie —”

“I was wrong about Gabe, but I’m not wrong about her. She’s trouble.”

Akira sighed. There wasn’t any point in arguing with him. He’d made up his mind.

Brodie made a beeline for the door and was halfway to the barn before Pauline got out of her car.

Akira grabbed her sweater from the back of a chair and slipped it on, then stepped outside. She crossed her arms over her chest, shivering slightly. It smelled like snow, and the gray, overcast sky confirmed it was a strong possibility. Gabe could get snowed in at that old miner’s shack if they got an early blizzard. Would he have enough food until the storm cleared? Did he have enough warm clothes? What if —

“As usual, Mr. Lachlan is less than pleased to see me,” Pauline said, breaking into Akira’s worrisome thoughts.

O ye of little faith
, she scolded herself before moving her gaze from the cloudy heavens and turning it toward the bottom of the steps where Pauline now stood. “I was thinking it might snow.”

“Eugene says it will.”

Akira looked toward the automobile. “Would your driver like some hot cider? It’s on the stove.”

“He has a thermos of coffee with him. He’ll be fine.” Pauline came up the steps. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping by this way. It would be nice if you had a telephone.”

“You’re always welcome.” Akira motioned toward the door. “Come inside. It’s getting colder as we stand here.”

A short while later, they sat at the kitchen table, steaming mugs of cider before them.

“I wanted you and Gabe to know Hudson’s coming home.” Pauline pursed her lips, then added, “He should arrive by tomorrow night.”

Akira didn’t know what to say to that news. Her feelings about Gabe’s father were confusing, to say the least.

“Things will be … different … once he’s back.”

Akira wondered how Gabe would react. Would it matter to him? He’d been angry about his father’s involvement with the parole matter. Would his anger return, perhaps even worsen?

“Akira?”

She looked at Pauline.

“How does a person … No. How do I know I won’t go to hell for the things I’ve done? For my … sins.”

A shiver ran up Akira’s spine, and her breath quickened. She might be witnessing a life about to change. It wasn’t a moment to take lightly.

She reached out and laid her hand over Pauline’s. “It’s simple,” she answered. “You’ve already taken the first step by acknowledging you’ve sinned. Now all you need do is accept what Christ accomplished for you on the cross. He died for your sins, covering them with His shed blood. Ask His forgiveness and then live for Him.” She tightened her grasp. “If you’d like, I’ll pray with you.”

“I don’t know.” Pauline’s gaze drifted toward the window, her expression taut, her eyes misty. “I don’t know.”

She’s afraid
,
Lord. Open her eyes and heart.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come.” She tried to withdraw her hand.

Akira wouldn’t let go. “God’s grace is sufficient. Whatever’s troubling you, God knows what to do about it.”

Pauline looked at her again. “Must I tell you what it is?”

“No.” She smiled gently. “Just tell Him.”

“Then I’d like you to pray, Akira. Before it’s too late, I need you to pray.”

The wind whipped around the corners of the one-room log cabin, causing tall trees to sway and bend before it. The sky was the color of slate and growing darker by the hour. The temperature had dropped a good ten degrees since noon.

Gabe pulled up the collar of his coat to protect his neck and ears before walking to the lean-to where his gelding was stabled. The horse stood with its back to the wind, head slung low and eyes closed. But it perked up when Gabe tossed several flakes of hay over the gate.

“Not much longer,” he promised the animal. “A few more days is all.”

The gelding snorted.

“Yeah. Guess I’d feel the same if I were living outside in this weather.”

He returned to the cabin, thankful for the fire in the stove and the large stack of wood beside it. He poured himself a cup of coffee, then took a sip. It was bitter after sitting on the stove for hours, but he was glad for it, nonetheless. He sat down at the table, ignoring the wobble caused by the uneven legs.

His thoughts drifted to Akira. He’d missed her more than he’d expected to. He’d lost track of the number of times he’d discovered something new in the Word of God and wanted to share it with her only to remember she wasn’t there.

He leaned back in the chair. “Thank You for the gift of Akira.” As he spoke, he rested his Bible on its spine and let it fall open. “What have You for me this afternoon, Lord?”

He didn’t begin reading. Not yet. Instead, he waited, trusting that God would speak to him at the proper time. He was no longer surprised by the Shepherd’s voice whispering in his heart, conversing through the Scriptures, instructing him, guiding him, revealing Himself.

Last summer, after he’d sought God’s forgiveness, he’d come to love the Bible. But now his love for this book had become something deeper still, something richer, wider, higher. Something … more.

“To
know
You,” he said with a smile.

That’s why he loved the Scriptures. Because they helped him know God.

Like a caress, a sense of warmth flowed over him. “Jehovah God, my Provider. The just and exalted One. The God who sustains me.”

He sat silently, meditating on God’s attributes.

And then, he thought of his own father.

There shall be tribulation …

The quiet words in his heart shook him, and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that there would be obstacles to overcome when he returned from the mountaintop, his father chief among them.

“Jesus,” he whispered, not knowing how to pray, making the name a prayer in itself.

He turned his gaze upon his Bible. It was open to the book of Ephesians, chapter six. He began to read:
Put on the whole armor of God
,
that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our wrestling is not against flesh and blood
,
but against the principalities
,
against the powers, against the world-rulers of this darkness, against the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places. Wherefore take up the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and, having done all, to stand …

Stand, My son. stand.