at night. It felt more like forty. She wrapped the comforter around her shoulders.
Moving aside the curtain, she saw a sliver of moon
— God’s thumbnail, she’d heard it called — surrounded by a blanket of stars. The glow of the moon and the stars seemed brighter because of the snow-covered earth below.
Leafless trees stood stock-still, no breeze to stir their branches. Silence reigned throughout the neighborhood.
In her dream, she’d looked for something . . . or some- one. She was outside on a night much like this one, cold with only the light of the moon to see by. The streets, alleys, and buildings were strange to her. In the odd way of dreams, it was Boise but not Boise at the same time. She ran and ran, up one street, down an alley. Looking, looking, looking but never finding.
“Finding what?” she whispered. “What did I lose?”
Yourself.
Tears slipped down her cheeks.
Help me , God. I’m lost and don’t know what to do about it.
Marriage wasn’t supposed to be this hard, was it? Shouldn’t love make it easy for her to know what was right and what was wrong? How could she love Jonathan and yet yearn for something more? Worse, something else.
I came to Boise with him. I gave up everything to be his
wife. Would he go with me to Nashville if I asked him? Does he love me enough to make sacrifices?
Stupid questions. Here in Boise, Jonathan had a future. He would inherit Burke Department Stores from his father. If they went to Nashville, they might starve to death before anyone took notice of her. The music industry was over- flowing with girls like her, with talent and big dreams, who never would make it in the business.
But Travis said I could make it in Nashville. God , didn’t
You want me to use my talent? Why else would You give it to
me? Just so it could go to waste? Sure , I can sing in the shower or even in the choir at church , but is that it? If I could be a singer like Travis , if I made record albums and performed at the Grand Ole Opry or on Hee Haw, then I could do benefit performances to raise money for good causes too. I could do so many good things for You.
She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the edge of the blanket.
I want more , God. I can’t help it. I want more.
This page is intentionally left blank
J
onathan placed his hand on the small of Carol’s back as they walked into the church narthex. Ever
since he awoke this morning, he’d felt a need to touch her, as if afraid she would suddenly disappear.
His mom, who stood visiting with friends before the start of the service, smiled when she saw them. “Good morning.” She joined them near the sanctuary entrance. “How’re you feeling, Jonathan?”
“Fine.” The truth was, he didn’t feel great. His chest felt a bit smoky, and he’d swear there was soot trapped in his eye sockets. One thing he knew for sure: he wasn’t cut out to be a fireman.
“Your father wants you to call him at the store as soon as you get home from church. Something about the lost inventory.”
A whisper passed through the narthex like a ripple spreading across the surface of a pond. Heads turned toward the hallway that led to the church offices and Sun- day school rooms. Curious, Jonathan followed suit.
Carol’s hand alighted on his arm. “That’s Travis Thompson.” She sounded a little breathless.
Jonathan didn’t much care for that breathless quality when it was attached to some other guy’s name. Particularly
when the man in question was handsome, rich, and famous. He watched as the country star strode toward them, Pastor Matthews at his side.
Travis Thompson wore a black suit, a white shirt, and a tie. Not much different from what more than half the men in the congregation wore on any Sunday morning. But other men didn’t draw the rapt attention of nearly every female in sight.
Jonathan glanced at Carol. Was she as captivated by this singer as the rest of the women appeared to be?
Jealousy curled in his gut
Moving aside the curtain, she saw a sliver of moon
— God’s thumbnail, she’d heard it called — surrounded by a blanket of stars. The glow of the moon and the stars seemed brighter because of the snow-covered earth below.
Leafless trees stood stock-still, no breeze to stir their branches. Silence reigned throughout the neighborhood.
In her dream, she’d looked for something . . . or some- one. She was outside on a night much like this one, cold with only the light of the moon to see by. The streets, alleys, and buildings were strange to her. In the odd way of dreams, it was Boise but not Boise at the same time. She ran and ran, up one street, down an alley. Looking, looking, looking but never finding.
“Finding what?” she whispered. “What did I lose?”
Yourself.
Tears slipped down her cheeks.
Help me , God. I’m lost and don’t know what to do about it.
Marriage wasn’t supposed to be this hard, was it? Shouldn’t love make it easy for her to know what was right and what was wrong? How could she love Jonathan and yet yearn for something more? Worse, something else.
I came to Boise with him. I gave up everything to be his
wife. Would he go with me to Nashville if I asked him? Does he love me enough to make sacrifices?
Stupid questions. Here in Boise, Jonathan had a future. He would inherit Burke Department Stores from his father. If they went to Nashville, they might starve to death before anyone took notice of her. The music industry was over- flowing with girls like her, with talent and big dreams, who never would make it in the business.
But Travis said I could make it in Nashville. God , didn’t
You want me to use my talent? Why else would You give it to
me? Just so it could go to waste? Sure , I can sing in the shower or even in the choir at church , but is that it? If I could be a singer like Travis , if I made record albums and performed at the Grand Ole Opry or on Hee Haw, then I could do benefit performances to raise money for good causes too. I could do so many good things for You.
She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the edge of the blanket.
I want more , God. I can’t help it. I want more.
This page is intentionally left blank
J
onathan placed his hand on the small of Carol’s back as they walked into the church narthex. Ever
since he awoke this morning, he’d felt a need to touch her, as if afraid she would suddenly disappear.
His mom, who stood visiting with friends before the start of the service, smiled when she saw them. “Good morning.” She joined them near the sanctuary entrance. “How’re you feeling, Jonathan?”
“Fine.” The truth was, he didn’t feel great. His chest felt a bit smoky, and he’d swear there was soot trapped in his eye sockets. One thing he knew for sure: he wasn’t cut out to be a fireman.
“Your father wants you to call him at the store as soon as you get home from church. Something about the lost inventory.”
A whisper passed through the narthex like a ripple spreading across the surface of a pond. Heads turned toward the hallway that led to the church offices and Sun- day school rooms. Curious, Jonathan followed suit.
Carol’s hand alighted on his arm. “That’s Travis Thompson.” She sounded a little breathless.
Jonathan didn’t much care for that breathless quality when it was attached to some other guy’s name. Particularly
when the man in question was handsome, rich, and famous. He watched as the country star strode toward them, Pastor Matthews at his side.
Travis Thompson wore a black suit, a white shirt, and a tie. Not much different from what more than half the men in the congregation wore on any Sunday morning. But other men didn’t draw the rapt attention of nearly every female in sight.
Jonathan glanced at Carol. Was she as captivated by this singer as the rest of the women appeared to be?
Jealousy curled in his gut
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