“Do you know what's going on, Harry?” The young people had been gone for barely five minutes.
“Not exactly,” he admitted.
“Does McKay?”
“I don't know.”
Husband and wife looked at each other.
“She's absolutely fascinating,” Liz said not unkindly.
“She is that.”
“All she wants to do is talk about Scripture, Harry. We don't know anything about her personally.”
“No, and I think it's going to have to be that way, Liz.”
Liz Harrington turned away from the cupboard and stared at her mate. Harry went on quietly.
“Mickey always tells us everything he can. He never tells us things that have to remain confidential because that's his job. I think it's the same with Callie.”
Liz stared at him. “You don't mean you think she works for the treasury department?”
Harry just looked at her. Liz couldn't take it right then. She picked up another plate to dry, and Harry went back to scrubbing the large kettle.
“Do you think she has any family left?”
“I would guess not,” Harry answered. “But none of that matters. She's here now and we'll do all we can to show her love.”
“Do you think McKay will become serious about her?”
“There's something special about that girl, Liz, I'll give you that. But as to McKay's feelings, I don't know if he knows himself.”
They finished the dishes in silence. Harry and Liz deeply loved their only son, and now God had brought this unusual woman into their midst. They both felt a sudden urge to pray.
Although they hadn't discussed where to go, McKay and Callie walked to the lake. The lake reminded Pup of her home, and McKay had let her lead the way. They sat on a log, a fat one that had fallen years before, the sun at their backs, their eyes out over the surface of the water. It was then that McKay noticed the drops of perspiration on Pup's brow. He was very comfortable in shirtsleeves, his tie and collar gone and the top button undone, but although Pup didn't say anything, he could tell she was very warm. It suddenly occurred to him: The wig. It would have been like wearing a tight hat, one that didn't let your head breathe.
“Would you be cooler if you took the wig off?”
Lost in thought, Pup looked over at him.
“What's that?”
“I just noticed that you look hot. It's pretty private here. You could take off the wig.” He was thinking of her and not of his own embarrassment.
Pup glanced at the trees around them and then along the open spaces before looking at McKay.
“It would be cooler, wouldn't it?”
McKay nodded. “I would think so.”
With that Pup reached up and pulled the curls from her head. Her eyes closed with relief as soon as the breeze blew against her damp head.
Watching her, McKay asked, “Better?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“You have the curliest hair I've ever seen,” he commented as he looked at the dark ringlets all over her head. “What is it like when it gets very long?”
“It takes awhile for it to get heavy enough to hang down; it's only happened once in the last 13 years. When it gets to that point, I just keep cutting it away from my face.” She ran a gentle hand over her scalp, slightly fluffing the black curls. “One time I pulled a hair straight out from the crown of my head. It was two feet long, but with the curls it only hung to my shoulders.”
McKay shook his head in amazement.
“My mother's hair was light brown and straightâJubal got that,” she informed him, “but Govern and I got Papa's black curls.”
“Govern did look a little like you. I'd have never made the connection without seeing you standing side-by-side, but there was a resemblance.”
“Yeah,” Pup said softly, her eyes shifting back to the water. McKay wondered if he'd upset her.
“Do you think about your folks much, Callie?”
“I have this morning,” she admitted with a soft sigh. “I know Mama's decision for Christ was as real as my own, but I don't know what Papa believed. He was a fair man and an honest one, but he never had much time for church.” She paused for a moment. “Hell is a real place, isn't it, McKay?”
“Yes, it is.”
Pup sighed.
“Does that upset you?”
“I've always considered myself a realist, McKay, but I've been in some sort of dreamland concerning my brothers. I've wanted better for them, and unless they were staring me in the face, I imagined it to be so. When I saw Jubal at the bank in Denver, I thought I would die. Before then I think I had myself convinced that it was all a case of mistaken identity or some other nonsense.”
“That night you came to my room and asked me to get word to Nick,” McKay suddenly remembered, “I had seen Jubal in Denver and didn't know whether or not I could tell you.”
“I knew something wasn't right,” Pup said, turning her head to look at him. “I thought Nick had set me up.”
“He wouldn't do that.”
“No, he wouldn't. It was wrong of me even to think it.”
They fell quiet again. Having told McKay how she felt about her brothers, Pup felt better, but as it had in the morning, her mind swiftly turned back to all she had remembered about her conversion.
“Tell me some more about Jesus Christ, McKay, will you?”
“Sure.” He was more than happy to oblige. He began with Christ's birth and was sharing with her about Jesus' visit to the temple when she surprised him with a question.
“He'd actually gone off and not told His mother where He was?”
“That's right.”
“But isn't that a sin?”
McKay shook his head no. “Be careful not to lay the sin of Joseph and Mary on Jesus.”
“I don't follow you.”
“They were both told by an angel that this child was the Christ, right?”
“Yes.”
“They knew before He was born that He was God.”
“Okay.”
“So this was something they needed to believe,
truly
believe. It was their choice, but they forgot that. The Bible says they searched for three days before checking in the temple. It was the last place they looked. And what did Jesus say to them? He said, âWhy were you searching for me? Didn't you know I would be in my Father's house?' If they had remembered who He was, they'd have looked there right away. Do you see what I'm saying? And don't forgetâthis is God we're talking about here, Callie; there was no sin involved.”
She nodded with understanding, her face intent on his as she hung on every word. They talked on this way for several hours. A few times Pup asked questions of McKay that caused him to consider why he believed as he did, and he loved being challenged. She was like a thirsty cloth where Jesus was concerned, and a few times McKay mentally gasped at the depth and insight of her comments and inquiries. Before today he would not have considered her a seeking individual, but now he was seeing another side of her.
“I'm getting thirsty,” McKay said when there was a lull. “How about we continue this on the porch with some tea or lemonade?”
“All right.”
Pup pulled her wig back into place, and not for the first time McKay was amazed at how it changed her appearance back to that of the woman he'd first met. They stood and had begun walking toward the house when McKay said casually, “I'm going to change into denim pants for the hayride tonight. You might want to change into something less dressy yourself.”
“Hayride?”
“Yes ⦔ McKay's voice remained calm, “the hayride and bonfire with the church family tonight.”
Pup came to a complete stop and looked at McKay.
“I didn't tell you,” he stated, having just realized. “I'm sorry, Callie. We talked about so much on the way here that I thought I'd mentioned it.”
“You didn't.” She was not upset, but neither was she thrilled.
“You don't have to attend.”
“What do you do?”
“It's just a regular hayride,” McKay began, not realizing that Pup had never been on one in her life. “And afterward we'll have a bonfire and cookout. It's for Stan and Lisa. Stan's my cousin. RememberâI told you he's getting married. You might have seen him this morning. He plays the organ at church. Lisa Giss grew up around here; in fact, her family is our closest neighbor.”
“And how do you know I'm invited to this?”
“Because everyone isâthe whole church. The more the merrier and all that.”
“I don't have a gift, McKay.”
“No gifts are expected. The wedding isn't until Saturday.”
Pup started to walk again, but not out of anger; she thought better when she was moving. It was hard enough not to respond to Liz and Harry's kindness; how would she keep an entire church family at arm's length? For the first time in 13 years, Pup wondered if her job was worth the pain of trusting no one. She was used to being alone but not lonely. Now she'd come home with McKay, not believing all he'd said of his family but finding it to be true. They didn't do anything but welcome her and treat her like a woman. She knew they must be curiousâwho wouldn't be? But they couldn't have been more gracious if they'd tried.
“I am sorry,” McKay now repeated, and Pup knew she had to explain. But how to start?
“It's all right, McKay. I'm just trying to figure out what to do.”
“Why wouldn't you want to go?”
“There are many reasons, but the main one is what an oddity I'll be if I come and don't talk to anyone.”
“You can talk to people, Callieâat least to some,” McKay said sincerely. “You can ask questions and show an interest in them while simply sidestepping questions that grow too personal. My parents are the only ones who know how you and I met. When the pastor asked about you this morning, I told him we have mutual friends and acquaintances in both Boulder and Denver. The people here are not naturally suspicious. I was able to be completely honest, and my explanation was taken at face value.”
They were almost back to the house. Both had slowed their steps, and with a hand to her arm, McKay brought Pup to a slow halt. She faced him.
“It really is fine, Callie, if you don't want to come. But I know you'll have a good time if you do.”
She looked into his eyes, which were almost on the same level as her own. He was utterly sincere, and if Pup was honest with herself, she wanted to go.
“All right, McKay. I'll go.”
“Great,” he said with warm sincerity. “As I said, I think you'll have a good time.”
Once more Pup started toward the house, but McKay caught her arm again. He reached up and carefully adjusted Pup's wig so it sat straight on her head.
“Mickey.” Harry chose that moment to call from an upstairs window. McKay's head turned so he missed the way Pup's eyes closed in despair. How would she ever make it through the evening?