Love's Abiding Joy (Love Comes Softly #4)(34)

"God, Ya know how we need Ya now. Ya know how we love Clark. Ya know how he has served You. He loves Ya, Lord. An' now we're askin' thet Ya lift him up. Thet Ya give 'im back his mind an' body, iffen it be Yer will, Lord. Amen."

Missie looked at Marty, her eyes wide and the tears streaming down her face. "Oh, Ma!" she cried, "don't pray like that. Of course it be His will. Of course it is. He's gotta heal 'im. He's gotta."

Marty too was crying now. "Yer pa always prayed, `Yer will be done.'

"You can pray thet iffen ya want to," said Missie insistently, "but I'm gonna tell God exactly what I want. I want Pa. I want him well an' strong ag'in. What's wrong with tellin' God jest what ya want Him to do?"

"Yer pa always says thet we don't be orderin' God; we ask."



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Missie pulled away, and Marty could feel frustration and anger in the slim body. Brushing at her tears, Missie went back to the sandwiches. Her whole person seemed shut away. Marty remained silent and began to slice beef and place it on the bread.

When the sandwiches were ready and the coffee had boiled, Missie went to find Willie. Surely her husband would understand and pray with her for Clark's quick recovery. They had not invited Clark west to bring him to harm. But when Missie had met Willie as he was leaving her father's room, he informed her that he was leaving and it seemed that he had no time nor inclination to stop and pray. Willie had suggested that she look in on Nathan to reassure him. Missie went to Nathan's room, but it was Missie who needed some reassurance.

She held the small boy close and let her tears fall. When she was sure that she could speak coherently, she talked to him. "Grandpa got the boys out, Nathan. Grandpa is kind of a hero. He hurt himself saving others. Now he needs to be in bed and have a long rest. You an' Josiah might need to be very quiet an' good for the next few days. Ya can do thet for Grandpa, can't ya?"

She felt Nathan's head bobbing a yes up against her.

"We need to pray for Grandpa. God can make him all better again. Will ya pray with Mama now, Nathan?"

Nathan agreed and the two of them knelt by his bed.

"God," said Nathan simply, "Grandpa got a hero an' is hurt an' needs You to make him better. He needs me an' Josiah to be quiet an' not 'sturb him. Help us to not fight or yell. An' help Mama an' Gram'ma to nurse Grandpa good. Amen."

Missie wished to ask the young boy to pray again. She wanted to say, "Nathan, you didn't ask God to make your grandpa well. You didn't say it, Nathan." Instead she held him for a moment and told him if he'd like to go to the kitchen and share the lunch with the ranch hands, he could. Nathan bounded away, glad to be free of his room.

Missie returned to the kitchen, her heart heavy and her head spinning. How could God answer their prayers if they



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wouldn't pray them? Missie went to pour the coffee with a shaking hand.

Marty slipped quietly into Clark's room and knelt by his bed. She took one of his hands in hers and caressed it, careful not to bring further hurt to the already damaged hand. It did look better now that it had been cleaned up. She pressed it to her lips and let her tears wash it again.

"Oh, Clark," she whispered, "I couldn't bear it iffen somethin' should happen to you. Oh, God, I jest couldn't stand it. Please, dear God, make 'im better again. Please leave 'im with me. I need 'im so much." There, she was praying the very way she had warned Missie against. Well, she couldn't help it. She couldn't help it! She needed Clark so much. She loved him more than life itself. She couldn't bear to lose him. She just couldn't! "Oh, please, God; please, God," she pleaded.

She stayed beside his bed, crying and praying, until all of her energy and her tears were spent. Clark still did not stir. Would he ever regain consciousness?

At length Marty was aware of a hand on her shoulder. "Mama," asked Missie, "Ya want a cup of coffee?" Marty shook her head.

"Ya should, ya know. It might be a long night. I told Wong not to bother with supper except for the boys. I didn't think anyone else would be hungry."

Marty looked up. "Yer right," she said wearily. "I couldn't eat a bite."

"Coffee, then," said Missie, holding out the cup.

Marty lifted herself to her feet and took the coffee. She was surprised at how stiff she had become. Unaware that it was getting dark outside, she wondered how long she had been there beside Clark. Missie pushed a chair toward her and she sat down.

"The boys are already in bed," Missie ventured. "Willie still isn't back. Don't know why he--"

"Maybe he went fer a doctor. He said thet yer pa's leg--"

"I'm afraid there's no doctor anywhere around," Missie offered sadly. "He might have heard of someone good at setting breaks hough."



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Marty sipped at the coffee and watched Missie's face. "Didn't Willie say where he was goin'?"

"Just said he would be gone for a while an' if we needed anything to call the men. He also said not to let Pa stir around none. Might hurt his leg."

Marty looked at the motionless Clark. "Looks like we needn't worry none 'bout thet. Wish he would stir some. It would make me feel some better iffen I could jest talk to him."