head between her hands, hoping the pain would fade. It didn’t. “Grief, I make a poor patient. I can’t bear being put to bed. There’s so much I need to do.”
“Right now you must see to yourself.”
“You’re awake. That’s good,” Ben said, looking in through the open doorway.
“I understand you put in four strong stitches,” Faith said, dropping her hands and giving Ben a smile. “Thank you.”
“You bled plenty, but head always bleeds more.”
“It does indeed.”
“You want tea to help with pain?” Ben asked.
Faith gave a slight nod. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”
When Ben was gone, she turned back to Andrew. “Is the town really in that bad of shape?”
“It is. I wouldn’t even bother trying to get you home, but I’m sure your family is worried.”
“If they’re all right themselves. I hope the storm didn’t cause them as much trouble as it did me. How widespread was it?”
“I can’t tell you that. I suppose no one will know for a while. Word has it there’s neither a telegraph line in place for miles nor an open rail line. The river is full of debris, making it too dangerous to head out. We’re stuck right here, with no word in or out to let us know how the rest of Oregon fared.”
“I’ve definitely endured worse quarters and company,” she said, smiling. She wouldn’t tell him what an effort that smile took.
Andrew returned the smile. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you. You even have me reconsidering God.”
“It’s not me. God is calling you back. He must have some need of you—some desire for communion with you. You know He truly does want that with each of us. At the very core of our existence, we were made from love—His love—and He longs for us with a protective nature that speaks to the deepest longing in us.”
“You are a strange woman, Faith Kenner. I’ve never met anyone who talks about God like you do.”
The throbbing in her head was nearly impossible to bear, but Faith was encouraged by Andrew’s willingness to speak about God. She wouldn’t stop now.
“I’ve done a lot of studying, Andrew. I started reading when I was two years old.”
“Two? That’s impossible.”
“Not at all. I wanted to know what those letters were and the words they made. Mama said I learned so fast, she could scarcely keep up. Anyway, when I was a young girl, I was encouraged to read books. All sorts of books. I think sometimes people just wanted to keep me occupied, but other times, I think they pushed me that direction because they knew that I had so much longing to know everything—at least as much as I could.
“One of the places I was able to borrow books from was a minister friend of the family. He had a library of history books that related to the church. I used to pore over them. He would see me reading them and then reading the Bible and puzzling over something far too grand for my ten-year-old mind. Eventually he asked me what I thought of all that I had read. Had I learned anything valuable? Had I figured out the meaning of life and the universe around us?” Faith could almost hear the old man’s questions.
“And what did you say?” Andrew asked, looking as if she might impart the answer to that very question.
“I told him that while the books were interesting, I was constantly going back to the Bible. No matter what one man or another had to say, if it didn’t agree with God’s Word, I wasn’t interested, and when it did agree, it only served to draw me deeper into God’s Word. Does that make sense?”
Andrew sat for a long time and said nothing. Faith thought, from the frown on his face, that he must think her mad. Finally, however, he looked at her with an expression of wonder. “What did your friend say?”
She smiled and shrugged. Again, the pain of moving reminded her of her predicament. “He said he’d studied his entire sixty-seven years to discover what God had revealed to me in ten. He told me that God must have a powerful work laid out for me. It terrified me.”
“Here’s some tea,” Ben said, coming into the room with a mug of steaming liquid. “It will help, and you can sleep until you go home.”
“I really should go as soon as possible.” She took the mug and sampled it. Willow bark, honey, and something else she couldn’t identify. She