The White Knight (30 page)

“You wound me when you say that,” Patrick said, gripping his chest. “If you want to see one proud grandfather, wait until my dad gets here tomorrow.”

“Your father is Barney Winslow, right?” Luke asked.

“Yes, that's right.”

“I've read the biography about him. I'm in awe of missionaries—especially him.”

“So am I,” Patrick said. “He's quite a man.”

The talk ran around the table, and finally Luana and the other women who had been hired to help out for the weekend started bringing out trays of food.

Luke grabbed Luana's arm as she went by. “All those bad habits you taught me when I was growing up . . . I've told my wife it's all your fault.”

“Bad habits, my foot!” Luana exclaimed. “I did everything I could to keep you straight.”

“Luke, you're awful,” Joelle teased.

“What . . . you mean I got my bad habits all on my own?”

Luana shook her head as she went back into the kitchen for another tray.

“Can I have your attention, everyone?” Peter stood up, raising both arms. When the room became quiet, he said, “Let's say a word of thanks for this meal.”

After he prayed, Peter sat down and said, “Now, Joelle, we're all dying to hear about how you and Luke met.”

“It was just like in the movies, Dad,” Luke said. “She took one look at me and fell in love. Her knees got so weak I thought she was going to faint, and she told me that if I didn't marry her, she would die. So I had to marry her to keep her alive.”

Cries of indignation went up, and Jolie said, “You hush, Luke. We want to hear Joelle's side of the story.”

Joelle turned to smile at Luke. “It wasn't exactly like that. It was freezing outside and snowing, and Luke hitchhiked to our house, to the Haven, but his last ride didn't get him all the way to our place. He was sick and so weak that he fell down and couldn't get up. He nearly froze to death.”

“She saved my life and nursed me back to health. So she had to marry me,” Luke said.

“You made a big leap from nursing you back to health to getting married!” Jolie maintained.

“It wasn't quite as smooth or fast as he makes it sound,” Joelle said with a smile. She went on to tell them about their friendship and how it eventually became love.

“If it hadn't been for Luke, the Haven would no longer exist. The bank was going to foreclose, and he fixed up an old plane that my brother had and made it into a crop-duster. He made enough money dusting crops to keep the wolf from the door.”

“Tell us more about the Haven,” Luke's brother, Tim, said. “It sounds like a great ministry.”

For the next fifteen minutes, with her eyes glowing, Joelle told the group about how God had spoken to her about wayward girls and making a home for them. She told them about the first girl who had lived with her at her folks' place and how it had grown from there. Finally she said, “I'm talking too much.”

“No you're not, my dear,” Peter said. “We're so happy to have you in the family, and looking at Luke, I can tell he's a different fellow.”

“She's made me what I am today,” Luke said with a sigh. “I hope she's satisfied.” He grinned at his wife.

****

Luke and Joelle finally made it to their bedroom, and Luke quickly climbed into bed. They could hear the sounds of merriment downstairs, for not everyone had gone to bed.

Joelle was brushing her hair in front of the mirror. “I love your family,” she said.

“And they love you too.”

“They're all such wonderful people.”

“I guess I was the only black sheep.”

“You're not a black sheep anymore.”

Joelle had an idea, and she walked over to the chest of drawers where she had put her clothes. She took a long flannel gown out of the drawer. “I didn't know how cold it would be here, so I brought this old flannel gown,” she said as she held up the gown.

“It's not as cold as I thought it might be, but that ought to do.”

For a moment Joelle hesitated, and then she said, “You know . . . the girls gave me a going-away present. I don't think you saw it.”

“That was nice of them. What is it?”

Joelle pulled out the black silk nightgown and held it against herself. “What do you think?”

“Well, now,” he said, his eyes wide, “if the girls went to all the trouble of buying it, the least you can do is wear it, I guess.”

“You are impossible! It's too cold for this gown.”

“There's another blanket in the closet. I'll get it while you slip into that.” He turned and winked at her. “After all, you don't want to disappoint the girls. I'm willing to make the sacrifice.”

Joelle laughed and disappeared into the bathroom.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

A Reunion to Remember

All morning the skies had been a leaden gray with the threat of snow ever present, but by noon the sun had come out and brought with it shoppers to the streets of Little Rock. It was still three weeks till Christmas, but the shoppers all seemed in a holiday mood.

Luke and Joelle had come to nearby Little Rock to do some Christmas shopping as well. As they walked down the main street, Joelle turned and smiled up at Luke. “Do you hate shopping like most men do?”

“I love shopping! I spend all of my spare time at it when I have the money. There's nothing I enjoy more than walking until my feet hurt and looking at a hundred items in order to buy one,” he said with an earnest look. “It's my favorite thing, wife.”

“You're just being silly.” Joelle reached over and pinched Luke on the arm. They were both carrying sacks full of gifts they had already bought. “We won't be here for Christmas, so I want to get everyone presents and leave them here. It'll be less expensive than mailing them.”

“I suppose that's true, but it's hard to buy anything for my family.”

“It was never hard to buy for mine,” Joelle said. “We sometimes didn't get anything at all.”

“You had a hard time growing up.”

“We never had much money, but we were happy and we did just fine.”

“You make me feel like a greedy bureaucrat swollen up with riches. What were your Christmases like?”

“Let's see . . . we usually tried to make gifts for each other. My mother would sew a skirt for me or make a pair of pajamas for Roscoe, or my father would make toys for us out of wood. I remember sewing a potholder for my mom once and knitting a scarf for my dad. We didn't have to spend much money to make each other happy.”

“Did you have a tree?”

“Daddy always went out and cut down the biggest tree that would fit in the living room, and we made a lot of decorations. We'd pick red berries and string them on thread—just like you did—and we'd make ornaments. We only had one string of lights, and of course when one bulb went out they all went out.”

“We had the same troubles with our tree.”

“Most of our friends were in the same boat. We didn't know anyone who had much money. But we had each other.”

Suddenly Luke stopped and said, “Look. There's another Salvation Army bucket. They're all over town.”

Joelle fished a dollar out of her purse and put it in the bucket suspended beneath a tripod.

“Merry Christmas, miss,” the man ringing the bell called with a smile.

“And merry Christmas to you too.”

“That's the sixth Salvation Army pot you put money in. Don't you ever get paid out?”

“They do such good work. They go places nobody else can.”

As they continued down the street, Luke started thinking about the way his family had celebrated Christmas when he had been a child. “Tim and I were totally selfish about Christmas,” he told Joelle. “I don't think we had the foggiest idea for a long time that Christmas had anything much to do with religion.”

“Didn't you have Christmas pageants?”

“Oh yes, we did. I forgot about that. Tim and I were usually shepherds. That was the high point of our Christmases.”

“Did you get lots of presents?”

Luke laughed. “Mom and Dad both loved to buy presents for us. When it got close to Christmas, every day we'd get up and come rushing down the stairs to see if there were any new presents under the tree. We'd count them and make sure Tim and I each had the same number. If Tim had five, I had to have five too. It had to come out even. One time Tim got two more presents than I did and I beat him up.”

“You didn't!”

“The old Christmas spirit.”

“Well, I trust you've become a little more generous since then.”

“Oh yes. I hardly ever beat Tim up anymore.”

“What do you want for Christmas this year?”

“You don't have to worry about that. We're buying my present today. I was here yesterday and I picked it out.” He stopped and winked. They were in front of the Gus Blass Department Store. “Come on. I'll show you.”

“You can't pick out your own Christmas present. It's supposed to be a surprise.”

“You know how bad my memory is. I'll probably forget all about it by tomorrow. The only way I can be sure I'll get what I want is to get it myself. I've always done that.”

“You are awful, Luke Winslow!”

He led her to the second floor, where all the newest radios were prominently featured, and pointed out a portable record player. “That's what I want right there.”

“I've never seen anything quite like it,” Joelle said as she peered around all sides of the device. “How does it work?”

“You just put your seventy-eight on the spindle there and then crank it up with this handle.”

“So you can have music wherever you are?”

“That's right.”

A clerk came over and said good morning. “I see you have
your eye on this record player. A nice machine, it is. Bought one myself.”

“And does it work as advertised?” Luke asked.

“Sure does. I'm real happy with it.”

“All right, then,” Luke said. “Can you wrap this one up? It's going to be a surprise for a very dear friend of mine.”

“I'll wrap it up myself. Just put it in a sack,” Joelle said with resignation, “if you have one that's big enough.” Luke grinned and paid for the record player.

“This record player is going to come in handy,” he said as they strolled through the store.

“We can keep it in our bedroom.”

“I thought I'd keep it in my plane when I'm dusting. It gets boring up there just flying back and forth. I can get some Harry James or Tommy Dorsey seventy-eights. A little entertainment for the pilot.”

“You're teasing me again. The needle would be jumping all over the record every time you changed direction.”

Luke grinned. When they passed the lingerie department, he suddenly grabbed her arm. “Now let's buy your Christmas present.”

Joelle gave him a startled look. “You're not buying any lingerie for me.”

“Sure I am.”

He pulled her through the lingerie department, commenting on different garments, and Joelle protested all the way. “I'm not going to let you pick out my lingerie and that's final!”

“Why, I let you pick out my underwear. Good old Fruit of the Loom shorts.”

“That's different,” she said, her face flushed. “Come on. We've got to get something for your parents.”

“I've told you they have everything.”

“There's one thing they don't have. A picture of you and me together. I've made an appointment with a photographer. They'll love it.”

****

Peter picked up the nutcracker and cracked a pecan. The paper shell fell off, and he picked out the kernel without breaking it. “It takes a real genius to pick pecans like I do,” he said. He popped one half into his mouth, chewed it with pleasure, then ate the other half.

“If you don't stop eating those pecans, you're going to get as fat as a pig,” Jolie scolded.

“No I won't. Pecans are good for you. They've got lots of vitamins or something. Gives you healthy corpsuckles.”

“That's corpuscles.”

“Whatever.”

“You're eating more pecans than you're putting in the bowl.”

Peter winked at her and grinned. “I don't see how you can rebuke me, Jolie. I've been a perfect husband all these years. Now you throw a fit when I eat one or two little pecans.”

“One or two! You've eaten two dozen.”

“Well, I'd eat them anyway on top of that pie you're going to make.”

Jolie could not help but laugh. “When did you decide you've been a perfect husband?”

“I can tell by the look of excitement in your eyes when I come into a room. You're so proud of me. Everybody says the same thing.” He cracked another pecan, glanced at her, then put both halves into the dish, which was half full. “There. You see how perfect I am?”

“What do you think about Luke?” she asked, changing the subject.

“I've never seen a man change so completely. He told me he was going to get baptized as soon as they get back home. He wants to join the local church there in Chattanooga.”

“Joelle told me about that. She said he hasn't missed a service since he's been saved. He's singing in the choir too.”

“He can't sing any better than I can.”

“Joelle says he makes up in volume what he lacks in pitch and tone.”

Peter cracked another pecan, and catching Jolie looking down at her own bowl of pecans, he put them in his mouth. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I almost gave up on Luke a few times. But you never did.”

“No. We gave him to the Lord when he was just a baby, and I knew God was going to do something with his life. I don't like to give up on anybody.”

At that moment Priscilla came in. She reached down into the bowl and picked up a handful of the shelled pecans in front of Peter. She bit down on one and nodded. “That's good.”