Page 57 of A Cameo for a Cowgirl

Three hours later, he realized that maybe this was why he’d felt a prompting to get the flowers and come here tonight, and that it wasn’t because of Cassie, after all.

“So I can sit here and tell you all kinds of things, son. But it’s best you read it yourself.” Derek yawned.

“I’m sorry. It’s late.”

“Hey, this is a conversation worth staying up for.” Derek smiled wearily. “But I do have an early start tomorrow.”

“I’ll go.”

Derek grabbed his arm. “But not before I pray for you.” He closed his eyes, and Harrison figured he’d better do the same. “Heavenly Father, help this young man see that You desire a relationship with him. Help him to know Your love, the real love of a Father unlike any he’s ever known. And thank You for Your promise that those who seek will find. We pray this in the mighty name of Jesus. Amen.”

“Amen,” Harrison whispered.

“Now, you’ve got those verses? Look ’em up. And keep seeking. If you go in with a closed mind that’s exactly what you’ll find as it’ll all feel closed off to you. But if you’re truly wanting answers, then you know what to do.”

He swallowed. Nodded. Thanked him for his time. “Please tell Leonie I really appreciate the dinner. It was delicious.”

“You’re welcome, any time,” she called from the hallway, dressed in a quilted robe, not unlike one his grandma used to own.

Maybe that’s why he went over and hugged her, but after a moment’s freeze, she didn’t seem to mind, patting him on the back while he tried to find composure.

He exited immediately, not wanting them to pity a man whose eyes threatened to spill at any moment as emotions toyed with him. Despair that he’d likely just killed any chance of them accepting him wrestled with concern at what Cassie would say when she knew what had happened tonight, while a faint hope beckoned that he might finally be on the right path.

The western town was silent by the time he returned. The sensor security lights helped light the way, so he found the back of the barber’s easily. He unlocked the door, went inside, and sat on the bed and toed off his shoes. The Bible sat there, goading him.

But then the memory of what Derek had said, and the memory of what his grandmother used to say, urged him to pick it up. So he did, opening the front cover, spying a dedication to Cassandra. He traced the name, wondering if this had once belonged to Cassie, and if so, had she put it here for him to read. That thought instantly felt self-indulgent, so he flicked over a few pages until he found a table of contents.

It had been a long time since he’d read a Bible, but he knew the book that Derek had mentioned was towards the back, so he turned there. As the pages flicked over he recognized names. Matthew, Mark, Luke, John. The book of Acts. Romans. First Corinthians. Then the next.

The words that Ainsley had said, that Cassie had implied, that Derek had mentioned, about not being yoked with unbelievers. It was there in black and white, in the seventh chapter. The next chapter reminded of the importance of being holy, avoiding sin, of repentance. He flicked back another page, read chapter five. The reminder to live by faith, not by sight. The plea to be reconciled to God. The declaration that for a believer “anyone in Christ” was a new creation, the old had gone, the new had come. He could see how this linked with the last verse in the next chapter, where God said “I will be a Father to you and you will be My sons and daughters.”

A Father. A loving Father.

He flicked over to the next book, Galatians, and found the verse Derek had said could be found in chapter three, that promised that all believers were considered children of God because of faith. Then in the next book, Ephesians, the first chapter again reiterated that God had predestined people to be adopted as His sons because of what Jesus had done.

And as he read the verses Derek mentioned, something stirred deep, deep within.

It was clear, and perfectly summed up in the verse his grandmother had loved, how God had sent His son Jesus into the world to save sinners. That God offered mercy. That it was a matter of faith, of believing, but when one did, God wiped the slate clean and made a man a new creation. That God wanted people to live holy, wholly to Him and His ways.

He could kind of understand Cassie’s objections now, and what Ainsley had tried to say. He already knew how fame or fortune or alcohol or dysfunction could blind a man’s eyes to the truth. His father’s legacy and rejection were not a fair representation of who God was, and Harrison would be shortchanging himself and his future by continuing to think otherwise.

He swallowed. His heart was whirling, thoughts swirling, memories at war with the promise of freedom and hope for the future.

And wetness splotted the page as he slipped off the bed and sank to his knees and lowered his head and prayed.

Twelve

Four days away from the ranch had left Cassie feeling like a new woman. That was, until she arrived home, saw the bunch of flowers sitting in a place of pride on the dining table, and discovered who had given them.

“Harrison came here?” Cassie asked. “You invited him to dinner?”

“We couldn’t leave the poor man to eat alone,” her mom said.

Those last two words triggered an avalanche within. “Yes. Yes, you could have. He’s used to eating alone.”

“That’s not very kind Cassie. Especially when he came here to give you that beautiful bunch of flowers.”

“He said that?”

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