Page 57 of A Twist of Faith
The pale light of the moon haloed the curiosity on her face. “Yes.”
“Didn’t he talk like me?”
She kept her attention on the stars, so the moon placed a spotlight on her face. Every soft feature highlighted and her eyes almost glowed. “Dad moved away from home for a while to attend college.”
“What happened to your daddy?”
She leaned her head against the stair railing and fiddled with the edge of her sleeve, keeping her gaze down. “He died in a car accident when I was fourteen.”
“That’s a rough time for a tragedy.”
She nodded. “After that my brother and I practically raised ourselves. Charlottesville was Father’s biggest dream.”
“And he wanted it for his kids too?”
“My brother never put much stock in Father’s wishes.” Sadness rounded her eyes. “He always cut his own path, you know?”
“Yeah,” Reese ran his hand through his hair. “I was that brother.”
“Why am I not surprised?” She smiled and looked back up at the sky. “Jason wanted the quiet, farming life. It suited him. Dad never understood his lack of motivation for school.” Her brows wrinkled. “So he would berate Jay or make fun of him. Compare him to our …” She released a deep breath. “Anyway, Father didn’t want to sound Appalachian anymore. I’m sure his travels made all the difference.”
Reese rested his elbows on his knees and braided his hands together in front of him. “You mean made him sound better?”
“He had different goals than just being a farmer.” She snapped her lips closed as soon as the words jumped out. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“It aint … it’s not what you have, but your attitude about what you have. I’m a farmer.” He shrugged, searching for the right words. “I like my job, but it’s not who I am. It’s just my job.”
“But itisyour job.” She turned to face him. “It’s what you spent years studying and how you earn your living. That’s no small thing.”
He considered her a minute, the stubborn tilt of her chin, the independence in her stiffened spine. Her job meant a whole lot to her.
“I never said it wasn’t important. I said it’s not who I am. My life is made up of a lot more than just a job.” How could he really explain it? “Something bigger.”
Her lips turned downward into a grimace. Not a good sign. “You mean your faith.”
“It helps put things into perspective for me. I know at the very bottom of what I have— all those journal articles, my education, even this farm—there’s only one thing that lasts forever. If I hang all my hopes on those things, then I’d be in deep trouble because at some point they’ll fail me, but God’s given me his track record.”
She looked plum doubtful. “His track record?”
Reese prayed inwardly for clarity, which had never been his strong suit. His spirit ached for her, for the loneliness haunting her life. “You like lists, don’t ya, Doc?”
“Ha, ha.”
“Do you always finish what’s on your lists when you want to?”
“That’s ridiculous. No one does.”
“So, how often would you say youdon’tfinish everything on your lists?”
“I don’t keep track.
He nudged her with his shoulder. “Come on, once a day? Once a week?”
“I don’t know.” She nudged back. “Twice a week, maybe.”
“So, you fail to do what you plan to do twice a week, every week?”
She tilted her head so her hair cascaded over one shoulder, her moonlit face nearly stealing his train of thought. “Is this supposed to make me feel better?”
