Brent mused.

The previous day and a half on the trail went off without a hitch. No other boars, no seductive moves by Tara, and no high tension. Last night had turned into an enjoyable evening around the fire at campsite five, basking in friendship and laughter. Today’s hike had started off a little later in the morning than expected, but it was nice to not feel rushed. Besides, they needed all the energy they could gather for the day’s trek.

The decision to bypass campsite six had been an easy one, as there were no “facilities” and no place to get water. They did their best to make the water that they carried last. Fortunately, the day was a few degrees cooler than the previous days had been.

It was now dusk, and when Brent and the others reached the camping area, they were exhausted. The additional miles of hiking had taken a higher toll than they’d experienced to this point. But they were all in good spirits as they raised camp.

As Eric and Terry set up one of the tents, Brent and Marta set up the other. Karen and Tara had gone to set up their make-shift shower and fill up the water containers.

“I’m so glad that today is drawing to a close,” offered Marta, tapping in one of the tent spikes. “It’ll be good to just sit around the fire tonight and relax.”

Brent grunted in agreement. But he was only half listening as he pondered about Tara. She may not have made a move the previous evening or this morning, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try again.

What is she up to? Does she really care for me or am I some sort of game for her? And why does she have to be so alluring? I can hardly take my eyes off of her. He tapped in the last of his spikes and stood up, stretching his back.

“… who is distracted.”

Brent caught the tail end of something Marta was saying.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Brent, is everything okay?” She eyed him for a moment. “I said that you have the appearance of someone who is distracted. What’s up?”

Brent made a show of rubbing his eyes and stretched again, adding a nice big yawn to the mix. “I’m sorry, Marta. Just tired and a bit sore.” He looked over at her as she crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. Hmm… She didn’t buy that.

“Okay, yes… I’ve got some things on my mind.”

“Tara?”

“Yes. Tara.”

“Okay, talk to me.”

Brent wasn’t going to get into the details of the shower incident, but he did appreciate the opportunity to at least talk about some of his concerns. “She’s just…” He sighed. “Do you get the impression at all that she’s deliberately trying to make this a difficult experience?”

“As in this trip?” she asked.

Brent nodded. Sure, why not?

“I don’t know about that. But she is still being very stubborn about the idea of God.”

“Do you think it’s that she doesn’t believe? Or do you think she’s putting up some sort of front because she doesn’t want to believe?”

“Maybe she believes, but doesn’t want to know him,” Marta remarked.

That caught Brent. “You think that?”

Marta thought about it for a moment. “I’m beginning to think so. We’ve known her now for, what, almost a month and a half?”

Brent nodded.

“You’d think that if she was even slightly caving to the idea of getting to know God, we’d have seen some hint of that.”

Brent was forced to concede. “She doesn’t want to talk about him. She doesn’t want to participate in anything remotely Christian that we do.” Brent looked off into the distance where Tara had gone for the water. “What gives?”

Marta shook her head. “Why would she want to be here with us for four straight days? I mean, other than the obvious.”

Brent cringed. “Which is?”

“Someone here has got her attention.”

“Who?” asked Brent, hoping that the obvious wasn’t really that obvious.

“Terry.”

A look of disbelief punctuated his eyes and mouth. “What?”

She smirked. “Brent, really… you can’t possibly think I’m serious.” There was a twinkle in her eye. “She likes you!”

Brent didn’t know how to mentally regain purchase on this shifting ground. So he blurted out the first response he could muster. “She said that?”

Marta momentarily closed her eyes and shook her head in exasperation. “Sometimes, Brent, you men can be so thick. No, she didn’t say that! I said that. And I said it because it’s so obvious. The woman stares at you continually. There is something about you that she’s intrigued with. Maybe she’s just drawn to those ruggedly strong arms of yours or your handsome scruffy face.” She smiled and batted her eyes.

Brent was dumbfounded. He had no idea how to respond. He just stood there blinking his eyes with a look of bewilderment. He didn’t know if he was more surprised about Marta’s revelation about Tara or her remarks about him.

Rugged? Handsome?

He finally offered, “Am I really that out of touch?” He hoped that she thought he was remarking about Tara.

Marta smiled. “The clueless look on your face is priceless.”

“I uhh…” Brent closed his mouth, sighed, and walked over to the other guys. He could hear Marta’s lilting laughter as he walked away. “Women,” he said under his breath.

9:12 P.M.

“WILL YOU HAND me the twine?”

Tara picked it up out of the small duffel that they used to carry the components of the shower and walked it over to Karen.

“Thank you.”

While Karen returned to hanging the shower curtains, Tara contemplated how to broach a subject that she knew would ultimately end in her being proselytized again. She had to admit, though, that this bunch hadn’t been nearly as preachy as she had expected. Not everything was God all the time. In fact, not once had anyone asked her about her obvious lack of a “relationship” with their God. For the most part she was allowed to simply be who she was. Be that as it may, she was curious about this Christian’s religious experiences.

“So, why did you become one?” asked Tara. She knew she should have prefaced the question, making her allusion clear.

Karen didn’t even look back to Tara. It was as if she had known the question was coming. “For the same reason that you’re avoiding becoming one.”

Suspicious and a little alarmed at the reply, Tara responded, “And that is?”

“Control.”

Karen didn’t say anything beyond that, and Tara knew that she was intentionally letting the word lay there, out in the open. She finished with the second of the three curtains and walked over to a sapling to begin putting up the last.

Without comment, Tara walked over and picked up the opposite end of the third curtain and began to overlap it with the first curtain, where the “door” to the shower would be. She waited patiently for the elaboration she knew would come.

Irrespective of the subject matter, though, she liked the connection that she had with Karen. They had similarities that made relating with each other somewhat comfortable. The stopping point of total relatability, though, was this whole Christ thing.

“You and I aren’t very different, Tara,” Karen began again. “Seems like we’re cut from the same piece of cloth. We’ll have to share our backgrounds with each other sometime. But to finish answering your question, I had been living my life to seize control wherever I could. In fact, I was the poster child for control freaks.” Finished with the last corner of the final tarp, Karen walked over to face Tara. “And that, my dear friend, is why you don’t really want to be a Christian, isn’t it?”

Tara was taken aback. “I never said I didn’t want to become a Christian. I’m just…”

“… just checking it out. I know,” interrupted Karen with a smile.

Okay, Tara thought, there are times that I’d like to smack her. “That’s right. I’m still checking it out.”

Karen gazed at her for a long moment then continued. “Tara, there is something going on in you that goes beyond the typical internal struggle—or disbelief—that most skeptics have. Frankly, I think you’ve already dismissed the idea of ever becoming a Christian.”

Tara’s mouth opened slightly, more out of shock than to let something escape her lips. “I…” and that’s as far as any sentence got.

Karen paused for a moment, obviously giving her a chance to continue. Tara couldn’t form a sentence, so Karen went on. “And you know what? It’s okay. You’ve made a decision that’s yours to make.”

Tara collected her thoughts. She had to know. “And if I do choose to go a different path from the rest of you?”

“Like I said, it’s your decision.”

“So, you’re telling me that you don’t care if I remain a...” Tara caught herself almost saying pagan, but finished with, “…heathen?”

Karen smiled. “Is heathen the term you identify with?”

Tara couldn’t believe the corner she was painting herself into. “Isn’t that what you would call me?” She raised her eyebrows.

For a moment, Karen’s smile broadened. “Anyway… yes. I do care. But I also care about your free will. No one can make you love Jesus. Even he, himself, won’t force you. And in the time that you’ve been around Brent and Marta, I’m sure you’ve already gotten all the information that you need to make a solid decision one way or another.”

Karen walked over to the duffel bag and took something out. Turning, she said, “All that aside, I want you to know something.” Karen paused as she walked right up to Tara, and with a genuine smile said, “Tara, you’re growing on me, and I’m glad you’re with us on this trip. While I sincerely love those other four camping mates of ours, I’m glad I get to hang out with you. And even though you don’t believe what I believe, I think I’ve found in you a kindred spirit.” With that, Karen opened her arms and violated Tara’s personal space with a tight hug; a hug that was barely reciprocated, because nothing like this was supposed to happen.

Pulling back, Karen unceremoniously held out to Tara the object in her right hand. “Your turn to hang the water bag.”

Tara couldn’t help but release a short giggle.