Читать книгу Called to Love - Arlene James - Страница 7

“I think Grasslands is a wonderful place to live,” Sally Locke said from her chair at the table in her dated kitchen. “Don’t you agree, Gil?”

While he had wolfed down two huge helpings of a cheesy skillet dinner accompanied by a simple salad, Cissy had pushed her food around on her plate.

“I do.” Gil put down his fork to explain. “The winters are so hard back in South Dakota that when I was a boy, our winter coats had to be approved by the principal every fall. My first winter here, I made up my mind I was staying.”

“But Grasslands has cold weather,” Cissy insisted. “Why, it got down to eighteen degrees one night last winter.”

Gil laughed, his dark eyes crinkling at the outer edges. “In the Dakotas, anything above zero is considered shirt-sleeve weather.”

“Oh, you’re teasing,” Cissy accused.

“Think so? Remind me to tell you about a real Dakota winter sometime.”

“Not much hope of that,” Sally muttered, swinging to her feet. “Chatting across international borders isn’t so easy.”

Gil rose when Sally did. She waved him back down into his chair.

“You keep my daughter company while I get a breath of fresh air,” she said. “Might be her last chance to talk to an eligible man. You are eligible, aren’t you, Gil?”

Cissy blushed as Gil murmured, “Suppose so.”

Tossing her wadded paper napkin onto the table, Sally strode for the back door. Gil slowly sank down onto his chair once more as the screen door slammed behind her.

“I’m sorry about that,” Cissy quietly offered. “Mama is obviously matchmaking in an attempt to keep me from going to Mexico.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” Gil assured her. “My mama didn’t want me to leave South Dakota, either.”

“But here you are,” Cissy said.

“And here I’ll stay,” he contended. “I dreamed about Texas as a boy. My grandfather used to tell me stories of his time here. Made it sound as if Texas was the next thing to Heaven. When I started working with horses and decided I might try my hand at ranching someday, he set aside a little money in his will to get me started. I like to think he knows that I finally made it south of the Red River. I bet he’d have loved Grasslands.”

“I’m sure he would have,” Cissy assured him. “What’s not to love?”

“But you’re bent on leaving,” Gil remarked, “and you’re going to a foreign country.”

“Mexico is closer to Grasslands than South Dakota is,” Cissy pointed out.

“That’s true,” he admitted with a chuckle. “Still, it’s kind of dangerous, isn’t it?”

Cissy shrugged and picked up her plate. “I’ve never felt threatened at the orphanage.” She rose and nodded toward his plate. Instead of handing it over, he got up and carried it to the sink. She followed, saying, “I’ve spent summers at the orphanage for years now. It’s fairly isolated, and no one’s ever been anything but welcoming and kind to me there.”

“That’s good,” he said slowly, putting his plate down and turning his back to the counter to face her. “Don’t you want to get married, though? I mean, if the orphanage is as isolated as you say…”

Cissy stuck the stopper in the sink, saying carefully, “I’d like to get married, but my husband would have to feel called to the mission field just as I do.”

“So you’re saying that you’re called to mission work.”

She faced him. “I’m saying that I’m called to this particular mission, and I knew it the first time I set foot in the place when I was a freshman in college. I took part in a summer mission project to build a dorm there. Up to that point, boys and girls shared a single sleeping room. After it was built, they had some privacy and were much happier. By the time I left, I felt as if I was leaving home instead of going home. That sense grew every time I went back on another temporary mission. So I tailored my course work in college to prepare for the day when I could return permanently, and when the original director retired, I applied for the position. I was compelled to do so. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Yes, I think I do,” Gil said softly. “I am a Christian. I understand what it means to be called, to have that urge, hear that quiet, still voice that speaks without words. I felt that way when I arrived in Grasslands.”

Cissy held his gaze, feeling a flutter of something in her chest.

After a moment, he smiled and softly said, “I confess that I haven’t been in church regularly for a while. Maybe it’s time for that to change.”

Cissy told herself that the delight rising within her was strictly a spiritual matter. If something she had said led Gil—or anyone—into a closer relationship with Christ, then her joy would be complete.

So why, she wondered, did she fear that her pleasure might be much more personal than spiritual?