17
Twilight had fallen outside Brady’s windows when at last he laid his Bible aside.
After a long time on his knees, he’d gone through all the scripture citations in Miss Angie’s scrolling handwriting, one by one. He took time to think about the application of each verse to his situation. Each offered its own comfort and wisdom, and he drank them all in, savoring them as a wine lover enjoys every aspect of a fine wine—the body, the bouquet, the flavor, and even the aftertaste.
The final verse still had a strong hold on Brady’s spirit. At the end of a lengthy list of beautiful nuggets of faith, trust, strength, steadfastness, God’s plan,—all the expected topics during times of spiritual weakness—Miss Angie included two more verses beneath a heading, “A little something extra.”
Brady read the familiar words from John 8:32 through the blur of damp eyes. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free. He then flipped the pages of his worn Bible to Ephesians 4:25 and read more. Therefore, each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbor, for we are all members of one body.
He turned the final page over and discovered a final note.
“Ethan dear, I know you, and I know that your lips do not speak lies. If I thought otherwise, I would not occupy a seat at Cambria House of Praise. But please read Revelation 22:15 and look into your heart. Do you know what it means to make a lie?”
She’d drawn a dainty flower with a long stem and signed her name beneath the question.
Brady read the scripture, and then grabbed his laptop and looked it up in various versions. His heart quailed when he figured it out.
Making a lie. Practicing a lie. Living a lie.
Wasn’t that what he was doing, living under a name that wasn’t his? His parents named him Ethan Brady, and he was using one of those, so perhaps he was only living a half-lie, because his family’s surname was Miracle. Calling himself Brady Merckle was making a lie, and it was high time he allowed the truth to set him free.
At tomorrow’s service, he would come clean with his congregation. They would either forgive his deception, understand his reasons for “making a lie” and forgive him…or he would lose their confidence and they’d find another pastor. That was all in God’s hands, and Brady could do nothing to change whatever would come of his confession. After the service, he would drive straight to Paradise Pines and save Winter from searching further for Rory Cope’s protégé. He’d take Ethan Miracle to her. He climbed into bed determined, but with an aching heart.
Winter answered the door to find Miss Angie on the deck. An automatic smile tugged at her lips. “Miss Angie! Please, come in.”
“Thank you, dear, but I hate to miss such a gorgeous evening. Let’s visit on the deck, if you don’t mind.” She peeked over Winter’s shoulder. “Bring Kai with you.”
Kai headed for the door without hesitation. “Great idea! I should’ve been outside already. I’ve become a couch potato since we arrived in Cambria.”
Winter followed, glad to see her brother in such good spirits. They’d both long since been given clean bills of health from Dr. Rafferty, but Winter couldn’t leave Cambria until she rooted out the elusive boy preacher—although, this long after the ugly end of Rory Cope’s ministry, she should probably think of him as the Miracle man.
Every path she’d followed in talking with local clergy and townspeople had proven fruitless. A few locals remembered Rory Cope, and even the kid preacher he’d recruited, but no one could recall having seen Ethan Miracle in Cambria.
Refusing to give up, Winter had interviewed every minister in town—except Brady, to whom she had the easiest access—hoping one of them might remember Miracle having resided in the area, even if for a short time. She’d told herself it would be a waste of time to bring up the subject with Brady, because he and Ethan Miracle couldn’t possibly be the same person. The man she knew, while very much a Christian, was not a charismatic dynamo. Soft-spoken and gentle, yes indeed. Funny, kind, and sweetly romantic, absolutely. An angel-man—not anyone’s celebrity protégé. She couldn’t even begin to imagine him as part of a huge, internationally known ministry.
“Winter? Hey, you all right?” Kai’s worried glance made her smile. He hadn’t stopped watching her every move the entire time they’d been at the lodge. Apparently it had become a habit, as her pass from Dr. Rafferty hadn’t changed a thing.
“I’m fine, just thinking about my story.” She joined the lodge hostess on the swing.
Kai claimed the lounge chair.
“I’m glad you came up, Miss Angie. We haven’t had a lot of time to visit, have we?” Winter smiled at their hostess.
“Not nearly enough. I know you both passed Julia’s rigid release criteria some time ago, but…how are you doing? Any residual effects from the crash?”
“We have permission to pass the city limit sign, so I guess we’ll live,” Winter assured her. “I can’t say I’ve noticed any hangovers from the crash. On the other hand, I’m a little worried about Kai. He’s gone completely moon-eyed and, despite having been approved for departure, my brother still requires daily consultations with the good doctor.”
“Ha ha, Sis. You’re a real comedienne.” Kai shot her a narrow-eyed glare, but the grin he couldn’t pack away told its own tale.
Winter gave him the “I love you” sign with one hand, and then turned to the lady sharing her swing. “You know Dr. Rafferty, Miss Angie? I notice you called her by her first name.”
“Oh, yes. Her father lives nearby, and Julia visits quite often. Actually, she accompanies Frank to church at least every other Sunday. I always look forward to seeing her.”
“That’s nice that she’s close to her father.”
“Yes, indeed it is.” Miss Angie’s sky-blue gaze fixed on hers. “You mentioned your story, Winter. How’s that coming along?”
She huffed out a sigh. “So far, I feel like I’m butting my head against a brick wall, to be honest. I’m no closer to finding the man I need to speak with than I was when I first started looking. It’s as if he simply walked off the face of the earth.”
The other woman laughed softly, and Winter’s head jerked upward to scan the darkening sky. Had she heard music…from somewhere up there?
“Oh, I’m sure he didn’t do that.” Miss Angie’s gaze widened, and she shook her head. “Perhaps you haven’t found him because it isn’t time yet.”
“Isn’t time?”
A quick glance at Kai almost made her laugh. He looked as confused as she felt.
Miss Angie nodded and gave Kai a serene smile. “There is a time for everything, dear. When and if God wills that you find this man, you will.” She turned that same smile on Winter. “God could even bring him to you, who knows? But only in His timing. Until then, no amount of probing and digging will make it happen.”
Winter blinked when her fingers received another squeeze. She hadn’t even realized Miss Angie held her hand.
Kai stood and then leaned against the deck rail. “Is that something from the Bible, Miss Angie?”
“It is. God’s timing is mentioned many times in the scriptures, but Ecclesiastes 3:1 specifically tells us there is a time and a season for everything. The verse I particularly love is in that same chapter, verse 11, where it says ‘He has made everything beautiful in its time.’”
The smile that lit Miss Angie’s face must have been in God’s time, because it was nothing short of beautiful. The woman’s genuine love for God and for the Bible radiated from her in near-palpable waves.
Kai spoke in an almost reverent tone. “You’re beautiful, Miss Angie.”
Winter managed to hide her shock. Normally shy and somewhat reticent, her brother wasn’t one to volunteer such lavish compliments. Apparently, Miss Angie had made quite the conquest.
“Oh, Kai…thank you, dear. You make an old woman’s heart smile. But I didn’t come up here for compliments, no matter how sweetly offered. I wanted to ask the two of you to attend church with me tomorrow.”
After her experience in the glade with Raine and Miss Angie, Winter was eager to find out what a church service was all about. But the moment she opened her mouth to accept, Kai neatly intercepted. Winter hid a grin. Her twin knew her well. He was certain she would respond with an unequivocal, and probably less than polite, “no, thank you.”
“We’d love to, wouldn’t we, Winter?”
She couldn’t even shoot him a fake-dirty look, because she couldn’t stop grinning. Despite their deep connection, Kai hadn’t zoned in on her new take on religion. He knew something was different, because she’d caught him studying her a few times, a crease between his eyebrows, and confusion clouding his gaze.
“I—I don’t know.” How long could she keep him from figuring out the change in her? “I really need to be working on this story.”
“On Sunday?” Kai raised both eyebrows. “I don’t think so. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt either of us to take in a church service now and then.”
“Well…” She’d probably protested enough to be convincing. “I guess we’ll go, then. Sure, Miss Angie. Will you ride with us?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like that.”
Soon after, Miss Angie bid them good night, and Kai walked her back to her door.
Winter stayed where she was, one foot keeping the swing moving just enough. The occasional sweet trill of birdsong from surrounding treetops, the roar of the ocean, and the briny tang of the air spoke peace into her spirit.
Kai was right…she needed to break away from the story and not even think about it tomorrow. Besides, she wanted to see Brady in his official capacity as pastor of Cambria House of Praise.
A sudden, impish thought had her watching the steps for her brother’s return. She didn’t need him watching her grin like an idiot, sitting on the porch swing all by herself. But the broad smile wouldn’t go away. She’d have a great view from wherever she sat. Her conscience pinged at the irreverent observation, but she ignored it.
If God didn’t want lady parishioners ogling the preacher, He shouldn’t put serious eye candy behind the pulpit.
Brady stood alone outside the church. Bright sunshine turned the world into a thing of unsurpassed beauty and lent a luminous glow to everything it touched. Fluffy white clouds seemed almost to dance against the perfect blue sky. The trees in the woods surrounding the church glowed from the inside out.
Had God washed the world? Brady couldn’t tear his gaze from the landscape…until a chorus of harmonic birdsong filled the air. Surely every winged creature in the forest had lifted its voice in simultaneous praise. Despite the vast variety of species and types of song, what should have been cacophonous became harmonic, breathtaking perfection. He closed his eyes, enjoying—no—absorbing the music.
Then, as suddenly as if someone had turned off a radio, every sound came to an abrupt stop.
A shiver of something holy traced its way down Brady’s spine, and his eyes popped open. What happened to his birdsong serenade?
As if in answer, a single song filled the morning. One bird. One song.
A Spirit-nudge so strong Brady took a halting step forward accompanied the stirring solo. He scanned the tree line, hoping to see which of God’s little songsters sang so sweetly it hushed all the others.
From out of the woods, a flash of red soared into view. A cardinal, wings spread in stunning, graceful beauty, drew closer. Brady refused to even blink. If he closed his eyes for even an instant, it might vanish.
Instead, it made a slow circle around Brady’s body at a distance of no more than a foot or two away. The flutter of air movement set off a vague tingle at the base of his spine, and his breath came in short, sharp bursts.
The small creature hovered in front of him, holding his gaze through one round, black eye.
Again, silence overtook the world. Even the cardinal’s show-stopping aria faded away.
Brady wondered if he’d been pulled into a vacuum, and if he’d ever be released. Perhaps he wouldn’t want to be.
The bird broke eye contact to make another loop around Brady’s body. And then another…and another, flying faster on each round, until its shape dissipated into a crimson blur. But somehow that blur sharpened all that had happened since Brady first noticed the impossibly bright sunshine, crystallizing it into vivid, mind-jolting, heart-changing clarity in his soul.
The light of the Son, so bright it illuminated everything it touched from the inside out. The cardinal’s bright coloring, crimson like the blood of Christ. A song so lovely the other birds couldn’t sing along…like the song of the Redeemed. Circles, with no beginning and no end…like eternity.
Brady’s heartbeat raced.
Then the bird’s zooming flight slowed, and the blur of red coalesced to form a perfect rose.
Like the Rose of Sharon. A symbol of perfect, untarnished, and unending love.
An image of Winter’s face filled Brady’s mind. He tried to shake it. Hadn’t he already decided he had to turn away from a path so obviously wrong for him? As a non-believer, Winter couldn’t walk the life path he’d chosen—that of a minister, a servant of Christ, shepherd to a small, but oh-so-precious flock of God’s lambs.
The cardinal settled on Brady’s shoulder. Once again, the little creature spread those vivid, crimson wings to their fullest span…and then wrapped them around his head in a gentle, feathery embrace.
Brady caught his breath. Surely this wasn’t real. But then, hadn’t he watched this same bird—or perhaps simply one of its kind—wrap its wings around Winter’s head the day she arrived in Cambria, right out of the heavens?
Healing flowed from that soft, crimson hug and into Brady’s mind and soul. The pain of being disillusioned by Rory Cope all those years ago. The loneliness of shutting himself off from everything and everyone he knew. The sorrow of believing every message he’d delivered during his time with the televangelist’s troupe was tainted by his mentor’s unforgivable deeds. The hurt that came of being deceived, misled, and used. The guilt of hiding his past from his congregation. All of it faded into nothingness at the touch of the cardinal’s wings.
Brady awakened in gentle, gradual layers of consciousness, the soft brush of wings remaining almost palpable. He raised a hand to his face and found it damp. He’d wept as healing flowed into his soul. Awake now, he slid off the bed and onto his knees, where the tears continued to fall, cleansing his spirit and reclaiming all the things that Satan had stolen. When at last he rose and set about getting ready for the morning service, his heart echoed the song of praise trilled by the choir of birds in his dream.
His task this morning would not be easy. Yet his heart sang.
What he must do after service loomed even bigger and harder. And still, joy bubbled up from within his soul.
On this day, Ethan Brady Miracle, boy preacher, disillusioned protégé…child of God…would take back all he’d lost. He might lose some of his flock to another shepherd as a result. If so, he’d believe his Father was separating the wheat from the tares.
He’d certainly lose Winter. His heart wanted to rebel, but his spirit overcame. God saw further down the road of life than Brady ever could. The Father had a plan—for his good, not for harm.
As he knotted his tie in front of the bathroom mirror, he quoted Romans 8:28 aloud, over and over again. “All things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.”
With his tie straight, he pulled on his suit jacket, picked up his Bible, and strode out of the house. Time to do God’s bidding.