Ket turned casually and then suddenly froze.

The sight of the tall man who had just entered the cafeteria had an almost paralyzing effect on her.

“Now, he is something!” Debbie breathed. “Did you ever see a better-looking man in your whole life?”

The man they were staring at was six foot five, with a lean, athletic-looking build. He had auburn hair, light blue eyes and strong, even features. Ket’s friends, Maggie and Debbie, watched with shock as he suddenly turned toward them and smiled.

“Do you know him?” Maggie whispered.

Ket had no time to answer for the tall man stopped before them and looked down at her. “Hello, Ket,” he said.

“Hello, Jared. It’s nice to see you again.”

Ket’s friends looked at them in stunned silence. “Who was that?” Maggie gasped as he walked away.

“When I think of Jared Pierce, all I can remember is a rather nasty boy who teased me about being so tall. He was always pulling my ponytail, and once he pushed me into a mud puddle.”

Debbie grinned. “He could push me into the Atlantic Ocean!”

GILBERT MORRIS

makes his home in Gulf Shores, Alabama, with his wife, Johnnie. He was a Baptist pastor for twenty years, a professor of English for twenty-eight years and since retiring, he has written 186 novels. He is involved in prison ministry in Alabama and Florida.

Heaven Sent Husband
Gilbert Morris

Without faith, it is impossible to please Him, for he

that cometh to God must believe that He is, and that

He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him.

—Hebrews 11:6

To Johnnie—my companion for fifty-six years.

I’ve enjoyed every second of it!

Dear Reader,

More than twenty years ago, my wife, Johnnie, and I invited a young couple to our home after a service. They were speakers during Christian Focus Week at the university where I was teaching. After we had cake and coffee, I asked them, “How did you meet and decide to get married?”

Their answer is the basis of Heaven Sent Husband. It is the only one of my 186 novels that is based on a personal testimony. The novel sounds wildly improbable, a plot that I would never dream up—but it is true.

We were stunned by the faith of the young woman who risked humiliation but obeyed God blindly. All of us should have that kind of faith—but few of us do.

The real Ketura and Jared have been serving as medical missionaries for the past twenty years.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Chapter One

Ketura Lindsey took a firm grip on the squirming bundle of fur she held in her right arm. The whiskered face of the Yorkie looked up at her eagerly. “Now, Bedford,” she said, “you’re going to have to behave yourself. This is a hospital and you’re going to meet a very sick, young man. So you must be very good.”

Passing through the front door of Mercy Hospital, Ket smiled at the silver-haired woman behind the desk in the center of the room. “What’s that you’ve got there?” the woman asked cheerfully.

“This is my good buddy Bedford. I’m taking him up to see Denny Ray.”

“Did you get Dr. Bjelland’s permission for that?”

“No.” Ket smiled. “I’m smuggling him in. You won’t tell on me, will you, Mrs. Williams?”

Mrs. Williams smiled and shook her head. She had a special fondness for Ket Lindsey and she studied the young woman before she answered. Ket had ash-blond hair and blue-gray eyes set in a squarish face. Her fair complexion was marked with a few, almost invisible freckles. She was very tall, just under six feet. There was a strength in her and her face was marked by this strength rather than beauty.

“No. I won’t squeal. Here, let me say hello. Hi, Bedford.” She reached out and petted the head of the frantically wiggling dog who tried to get at her face. “No—no, you can’t lick my face! All this makeup would make you sick.” She laughed. “Go on up. Denny Ray will be glad to see you.”

Moving out of the main lobby, Ket took the elevator up to the fourth floor. Passing by the nursing station, she stopped long enough to say, “Hello, Ellie. I brought a visitor to see Denny Ray.”

Ellie Peck, the hard-nosed head of the station was thirty years old. She was short and plump with flaming red hair and freckles—and a worthless husband named Mack whom she was mad about. “What’s that you’ve got?” She frowned.

“I brought Bedford to visit Denny Ray.”

“That’s against the rules.”

“Oh, come on, Ellie!” Ket pleaded. “He gets so lonesome in there. And you know there’s scientific research that shows it’s good to have patients visited by pets.”

“That’s in a nursing home!”

“Well, if it’ll work in a nursing home, it ought to work here. He’ll enjoy it so much. Come on. Be a sport.”

“Well, I suppose it won’t hurt unless you get caught, but if Dr. Bjelland catches you, I’m out of it.”

“No problem. I’ll take the rap. Thanks, Ellie.”

Ket moved down the hall thinking suddenly that she would soon be a fully fledged registered nurse. She had graduated college with a bachelor’s degree in science and come to work at Mercy Hospital as a licensed practical nurse, but soon she would be registered and certified and a genuine nurse in every sense of the word. She was eager to complete this certification, but realized that at age twenty-four she was right on track.

Turning into room 417, she glanced quickly at the boy in the bed who was lying flat on his back staring up at the ceiling. Her heart went out to him as it always did. Ten-year-old Denny Ray Kelland was a very appealing boy. He had fine blond hair, light blue eyes and did not appear to be sick. Ket knew that his heart problem was more severe than Denny Ray guessed, but as always, she greeted him with a bright smile.

“Denny Ray, I brought you a visitor!”

Denny Ray quickly raised his head. When he saw the dog Ket held out, his eyes lit up at once. “Gosh! Is that your dog, Ket?”

“Sure is. His name’s Bedford. Here, you’ll love him.” With this she tossed the Yorkie on the bed. Bedford never met a soul he didn’t love or didn’t want to lick. Before Denny Ray could put his hands up, the Yorkie had both feet braced against him and was licking him right in the face.

“Hey!” Denny Ray yelled. “You’re going to swallow me!”

Ket laughed at the sight. “As you can see, he likes you. Don’t let him drown you, though. Let me know if he gets to be too much.”

But Denny Ray seemed delighted by the dog’s attention. Finally, he grabbed Bedford and held him up. “Gosh, this is a great dog,” he said. “What kind is it?”

“He’s a Yorkie.”

“He’s not very big, is he?”

“Not very big! Why, he weighs a thumping seven pounds!” Ket smiled. She came over and sat down on the bed, then reached out and pushed Denny Ray’s hair away from his eyes. “You need a haircut. I may do that myself.”

“His name is Bedford? Why do you call him that?”

“I named him after one of my heroes, Nathan Bedford Forrest.”

“I never heard of him.”

“Well, you will when you study the Civil War.”

“Was he a Rebel or a Yankee?”

Ket laughed. “Would a Southern girl like me have a Yankee as a hero? No, he was a general in the cavalry. One of the finest in the whole war. I’ll bring you a book and read to you about him sometime.”

Ket sat beside Denny Ray, watching him play with Bedford. He smiled and laughed more than he had in days, she noticed, but his face was thin and his skin looked almost translucent. You can almost see that heart wearing him down, she thought. Something must be done. Lord, he’s too fine a boy for us to lose. Don’t let this be the end of him.

Finally, the nurse on duty came in. Sally O’Brien was one of Ket’s best friends, and Sally smiled briefly at Ket before giving Denny Ray and the dog an indulgent look. “My, my. Who let that little guy in?”

“His name is Bedford. He’s Ket’s dog,” Denny Ray said.

“Somehow I had a feeling.” Sally walked to the other side of the bed and patted Bedford’s head. “Sorry, Denny Ray. I can see you’re enjoying your furry visitor, but it’s time for your medication and then a bath.”

“No, not yet. We’re having fun,” Denny Ray pleaded.

Ket sighed. It was hard to go, but she didn’t want to push her luck breaking hospital rules. “Sally’s right. I have to go, Denny Ray.” She stood and reached for Bedford, who was frantically stealing a few more licks off the boy’s face.

“Will you bring him back sometime?” Denny Ray asked.

“I sure will. When you get out of here, we’ll take him to an open field and watch him go. You ought to see Bedford go after a squirrel. He’s really something.”

“He sure is,” Denny Ray agreed, gazing longingly at the dog who now sat alertly at his bedside. “My dad says he’s going to get me a dog when I come out of the hospital. Maybe I’ll get one like Bedford.”

“Maybe.” Ket forced a hopeful smile. She hoped with all her heart Denny Ray would be running around with a dog of his own someday.

“Well, got to go. See you tomorrow, pal.”

Sally had started checking Denny Ray’s blood pressure and looked up at Ket. “Maggie and Debbie went down to the cafeteria for a break,” she offered, mentioning their other close friends. “You could probably still catch up with them.”

“Thanks, Sally. I think I’ll try,” Ket said.

Just outside the room, Ket snapped on Bedford’s leash and kept him close beside her as they moved down the hall. In order to avoid anyone who might object to Bedford, she took the stairs down to the second floor. As Sally had predicted, she spotted Maggie Stone and Debbie Smith having coffee at a table near the door. Ket plumped herself down in an empty chair.

“Hi. What’s going on?”

Maggie stared at her. With short sandy hair and large brown eyes, Maggie was quite attractive. But like so many young women Ket knew, Maggie was always worrying about her weight. Needlessly, too, Ket thought.

“What are you doing here today?”

“I came to see Denny Ray. I thought a visit from Bedford would cheer him up. Can I have a bite of your doughnut?”

She reached out, but Maggie slapped her hand away. “Get your own doughnut.” Then she gave Ket a grin. “I shouldn’t be breaking my diet, but this is my reward for working a double shift, and I intend to eat every crumb.” With that she took a large, tantalizing bite.

“What an adorable dog.” Debbie leaned over and gave Bedford a pat. She and Ket had gone to college together and had felt lucky to find themselves together again at Mercy Hospital. Debbie was sweet and upbeat, with auburn hair and gentle gray eyes. She rarely had a harsh word to say about anybody and had always been a loyal, supportive friend.

“Look. I think he likes me,” Debbie said as Bedford tried desperately to climb into her lap.

“He likes everyone,” Ket explained. “Here, hold him a minute, will you? I just want to get some coffee.” Without waiting for her reply, Ket handed Debbie Bedford’s leash and bought herself two doughnuts and a cup of decaf coffee. When she returned to the table, she could tell that Debbie and Maggie were on to their favorite topic again: eligible young men. Or, the lack thereof.

“So, what’s going on in your love life, Ket?” Maggie asked. “Anything interesting to report?”

Ket took a huge bite of doughnut and shook her head. “Not too much…but as a matter of fact, I do have a date tonight.”

“Who with?” both young women demanded simultaneously.

“I’m not telling. You two are the worst gossips in the hospital. Anyway, I’m not too excited about it.”

Debbie said, “I know a fellow that works for the state government. He’d be perfect for you, Ket. Why don’t you let me fix you up?”

“I don’t think so.”

Maggie frowned with disapproval. “You don’t need to miss any chances. A woman who wants a husband has got to—” She broke off suddenly and her eyes widened. The other two were watching her and saw something like shock come over her face. “Who is that?” she whispered.

Ket turned casually and then suddenly froze. The sight of the tall man who had just entered the cafeteria with Dr. Lars Bjelland had an almost paralyzing effect on her.

“Now, he is something!” Debbie breathed. “Did you ever see a better-looking man in your whole life?”

The man that Debbie and Maggie were staring at was six foot five, with a lean, athletic-looking build. He had auburn hair, light blue eyes and strong, even features. Both Maggie and Debbie watched with shock as he suddenly turned toward them and smiled. “He’s coming over here,” Debbie said.

“Do you know him?” Maggie whispered.

Ket had no time to answer for the tall man stopped before them and looked down at her. “Hello, Ket,” he said.

“Hello, Jared. It’s nice to see you.”

“You’re a nurse here?”

“I’m almost through with my training.”

“Mom said she got a letter from your mother telling her you were almost done.” His warm smile made him even more attractive. “I guess we’ll be seeing each other from time to time. I’m going to intern here at Mercy.” Then he glanced across the room and said, “Dr. Bjelland’s waiting. Good to see you.”

The three young women watched in stunned silence as he walked away. “Who is that?” Maggie finally gasped.

“Jared Pierce.”

“And you know him?” Debbie breathed. “Tell us all about it!”

“Oh, we grew up together. Went to the same school.”

“What a cutie!” Debbie sighed. “Did you date him?”

“No,” Ket said shortly. “He was a couple of grades above me—and besides, we didn’t get along.”

“Didn’t get along with a guy like that?” Maggie snorted. “You were out of your mind!”

“Don’t be fooled by appearances, ladies,” Ket warned. “When I think of Jared Pierce, all I can remember is a rather nasty boy who teased me about being so tall. He was always puling my ponytail, and once he pushed me into a mud puddle.”

“He could push me into the Atlantic Ocean!” Debbie grinned.

“Well, he was the star of the baseball team. All the girls were chasing him.” Ket shrugged. “He wouldn’t have looked at me if my hair was on fire.”

They all three watched as the two doctors got their trays and made their way to a table.

“Look at that,” Maggie said. “Every woman in here has her eyes on that man. Ket, you’ve got to introduce me to him.”

“It wouldn’t do you any good. He’s like all stars, pretty stuck-up.”

“Maybe he’s changed,” Debbie said. “He came over and spoke to you right away.”

“And that’s probably the last time he’ll speak to me unless he needs my help around here in the medical line for some reason. Which is doubtful.” Ket suddenly lost her appetite. “Here, you can have my other doughnut.” She passed a doughnut to Maggie, then reached down and handed the last morsel of one she had almost finished to Bedford. “Come on, Bedford. We’ve got to get home.”

“Hey, I want to hear all about that date tomorrow!” Maggie called out but Ket did not even turn around.

Out in the parking lot, Ket got into the car and plunked Bedford down on the seat beside her. She started the engine and drove home, her mind on Jared Pierce. Her mother had once been best friends with Jared’s mother, but the Pierce family had moved away years ago, so their friendship had been sustained by phone calls and letters.

“Jared Pierce,” she mused. “Well, he’s something, I have to admit. As mean and stuck-up as he was, I would definitely have dated him if he’d just given me a look, but he never did.”

Arriving at the house she went quickly inside, unsnapped Bedford’s leash. “Go get something to eat,” she said, and watched the dog scurry off.

Turning, she went into the den where she found her mother ironing and watching television. Her mother was a news hound and spent most of her time watching the all-news TV channels.

“Why, Ket, you’re home early. Did you see your young friend?”

“Yes, I did.”

“How was he?”

“Not good. He’s so sick and he doesn’t really know it.”

“I bet he enjoyed Bedford, though.”

“Yes, he did. He’s so sweet. He enjoys everything you do for him and is so appreciative.”

Flinging herself onto the recliner, Ket sat watching her mother for a time. With dark auburn hair, warm dark eyes and a trim figure, Lucille Lindsey was still an attractive woman at age forty-eight. Ketura thought she had to be the most devoted wife and mother in the world…at least in all of Texas. Now that Ket was an adult, she could appreciate how hard her mother had worked raising her three children—Ket and her two older sisters, Carol and Jenny. Though they’d squabbled and teased each other almost constantly while growing up, Ketura missed her sisters and wished she could see them more often. Carol, an elementary school teacher, had recently married and lived in Southern California, where her husband worked for a computer software firm. Jenny was in Chicago, finishing law school. She and her boyfriend had announced their engagement the past Christmas and would be married next year. Ketura was happy for them, but wasn’t looking forward to the event. She felt embarrassed to be the only sister left who was unmarried—and with absolutely no prospects in sight. She dreaded the well-meaning questions and romantic advice of relatives and family friends she’d surely hear on her sister’s wedding day. Ketura hoped to be far away by then, doing missionary work in India, which was her plan once she’d completed her training and became a registered nurse.

While her parents were proud that she had been called to such an admirable vocation, Ketura knew that they were anxious about her going so far away on her own. Mostly, her parents wanted to see her “settled down with a nice young man”—just like her sisters. She knew her mother worried the most, but her mom was quieter about it than her father. While she and her sisters had been growing up, Ket knew she’d always been the most mischievous, and her mother deserved a medal for her patience.

And I’m still testing her patience, Ket thought, casting her mother an affectionate glance.

Ket sighed. She popped the chair back into the reclining position and watched the news for a time but was not really interested. “Guess who I saw today, Mom?” she asked suddenly.

“Who?”

“Jared Pierce.”

This did catch Lucille Lindsey’s attention. “Did you really! Where in the world did you see him?”

“In the hospital. He’s come to do his internship there.”

“I knew he was an intern now. Irene told me. But I didn’t know it would be in your hospital. Did you talk to him at all?” she asked eagerly.

“Oh, he came over and said hello.”

“And what did you say?”

“I said, ‘Hello, Jared.’”

“Is that all?” Lucille was plainly disappointed. “After all, you’re old schoolmates.”

“Not really. He was in the twelfth grade when I was in the tenth. That’s like two different species. He was about as interested in me as he was in the carvings on Mount Rushmore.”

“Oh, don’t be silly! You and Jared played together all your lives.”

Ket did not answer for a time, then she said, “Well, I will say he’s still fine looking. So tall. I thought Maggie and Debbie were going to faint when they saw him.”

“Well, he’s dating someone. Irene told me that. Oh, you’d know her!”

“How would I know her?”

“Why, she’s one of your old schoolmates. Lisa Glenn.”

“He’s dating Lisa?”

“Yes. You know she’s Miss Texas now.”

“I knew that. She was always Miss Something. Miss Mudpie or Miss Ingrown Toenail.”

“Now, that’s not kind! She’s a pretty girl, and she just naturally likes beauty contests.”

“I know, Mom. I just never got along with Lisa very well. I always thought she was pretty stuck-up.”

Her mother missed the pun, Ket noticed, but Ket didn’t bother explaining it.

“Well, I suppose she may have been but, in any case, she and Jared are dating.”

“Are they engaged?”

“No. Not yet. Irene said she’s hoping they will be. She’s very fond of Lisa.”

Suddenly Ket came to her feet. “Here. Let me finish that ironing. Most of it’s mine anyway.” She ignored her mother’s protests and picked up the iron. Lucille gathered up a pile of neatly folded clothing. “Don’t forget. You’ve got a date tonight,” she reminded Ket as she left the room.

“I know it,” Ket said shortly. She almost added, “And do I dread it,” but she did not. Her parents were always excited when she went out with someone. Both of them longed to see her find a nice boyfriend but Ket felt as if she was constantly disappointing them.

“Well, it’s a date anyhow, and that’s more than I’ve had lately,” she told herself as she pressed down viciously on the blouse and then suddenly lifted the iron. “No sense taking it out on you.” She thought of Jared Pierce then, and murmured, “Hmph. He was a real pest when he was a kid, and I expect he’s about the same deep down. Lisa is welcome to him!”

Chapter Two

“Well, at least I’m not quite six feet tall—guess I should be grateful. Another quarter of an inch I would be.”

Why couldn’t I have been petite and beautiful like Carol and Jenny instead of tall and plain? Ever since she could remember, Ket had longed to look like her two older sisters. Both of them had taken their size and beauty from their mother—exactly five foot four with dark auburn hair and sparkling, dark eyes. Both of them had attracted more suitors than Quaker has oats. Ketura had a sharp memory of the time when she was an adolescent, coming into her full growth and her father had admonished her sharply. “Ketura, for goodness’ sake, will you straighten up! You look like Quasimodo!”

Ket had finally been cured of stooping over to minimize her height by recognizing that it did not help. Also by realizing that God, in His infinite wisdom, had chosen to make her different from her mother and sisters. Different from most women, in fact. She knew by now there was no use complaining about it.

Now she stood straight and tall and put her attention fully on the dress that she had bought for tonight. At one time in her life she had envisioned herself going out for dates as often as her sisters, but somehow her shyness with men—mostly because of her height—had brought her to a strange situation in which she had almost stopped dating completely. She refused to date anyone shorter than she was, which eliminated fifty percent of the male population, and the other fifty percent were put off by what they considered her haughty manner. She was not haughty actually, but hid her real feelings. She feared rejection and did all she could to avoid embarrassment and humiliation.

She examined the dress critically, for she had bought it especially for her date with Charlie Petrie. Petrie was not handsome, but he was six feet three inches tall. True enough, he was thin, almost to the point of disappearing if he stood sideways. His colleagues at the accounting firm where he worked called him Ichabod behind his back, for his stooped, thin frame reminded one of the character in the classic by Washington Irving.

“This stupid dress makes me look awful!” Staring at herself, Ketura turned around and studied it. She had paid more for it than she had ever thought she would spend for a dress. Indeed, her trip to Neiman Marcus in Dallas had been her first. She had felt like a poor relation and was certain she had seen disdain in the eyes of the cool-voiced saleswoman who had waited on her.

As she recalled how embarrassing the trip to Neiman Marcus had been, Ketura flushed. She did have one outstanding trait, and that was her beautiful complexion. It was as smooth and clear as a woman’s skin could be, but she never saw that quality and remained distracted by the few faint freckles across the bridge of her nose that she considered unsightly. Now she looked again at the dress and tried to find something good about it. She had not liked it much at the store, but the saleswoman had talked her into buying it. “With your height, you have to wear a style like this, dear,” the woman had said.

“Like what?” Ketura wondered aloud now. “Like somebody’s spinster aunt?”

That’s who the dress seemed suited for, she thought, despairing as she studied her reflection. The short-sleeved button-front chemise, made from a smooth, pale yellow fabric, fell just below her knees. The demure oval neckline was outlined with satin appliqué, and the tiny buttons covered in satin, as well.

Maybe it wasn’t that bad, she decided, but so out of sync with her usual, sporty style that she felt as though she were dressed in a costume.

Ketura finally turned and sat down at the edge of her bed to put on her shoes. The shoes were also new and rather attractive, and Ketura had surprisingly small feet for her height. The shoes were overpriced though, and now she wished she’d put her hard-earned money toward something more practical, like a good pair of jogging shoes. Or better yet, used the money for a donation to people who had no shoes at all.

While slipping them on, she glanced at the clock on her bedside table. “Time for Cinderella to go to the ball,” she muttered darkly.

She went downstairs and found her parents in the family room. Her father greeted her with a smile. “Well, now,” he said with appreciation, “don’t you look nice, Ket.”

He came over to stand beside her, and no one seeing them together could mistake their relationship. Roger Lindsey was six foot three with blue eyes and blond hair that had gone mostly gray. For a man of fifty, few lines marked his face or marred his strong features. Ketura always felt she was looking at a masculine version of herself when she looked into her father’s face.

“I hate this dress,” she murmured between clenched teeth.

“Hate it? Why, how can you say that?” Her mother looked genuinely surprised. “You look lovely. I’m sure Charlie will think so, too.”

“I paid too much for the dress and the shoes. Just think what the mission in Bombay could have done with that money.”

“Well, that’s very true,” her mother replied placidly. “But young women need new clothes once in a while, too, and you told me yourself that you didn’t have anything to wear for tonight.”

Roger looked at his wife and shook his head. “I have to agree with Ketura. I remember it was Thoreau who said, ‘Beware of all enterprises that require new clothes.’” He smiled and his eyes crinkled up at the corners. “Besides, Charlie probably won’t know the difference. I don’t think he appreciates anything but numbers.”

The skinny, dull accountant wasn’t the man for his Ket, Roger thought. Still, it was good to see her going out tonight and having some fun. He studied his daughter, who now sat on the couch next to his wife, and couldn’t help but wonder why she had not been as popular and sought-after as her older sisters. They had gone through dozens of boyfriends during high school and college, and Roger remembered finding the house crowded with them—gawky young men—everywhere you turned. This had not been the case with Ket, and it hurt him somehow, for he knew that this younger daughter of his who looked so much like him felt insecure. He had wanted to say, Don’t compare yourself to your sisters, Ket. They are who they are and you’re what God made you. A tall, strong, beautiful woman in your own right.

However, he had never been able to find an opportunity to say this. So now he said, “I think you look beautiful, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Daddy.” Ketura smiled, despite herself. It was just her dad and she knew he felt obliged to say such things, but the compliment made her feel good nonetheless.

“It’s about time for Charlie to get here, isn’t it? Where are you going?” he asked.

“We’re going to the movies. Some film about space travel. Scientists are stranded on another planet. Or maybe they get stranded on the way to another planet…. I’m not quite sure.”

Her mother glanced at her with a puzzled expression. “I thought you hated movies like that.”

“Well…it wasn’t my first choice. But Charlie thought it would be fun.”

Ketura shrugged and forced a smile. She actually dreaded a two-hour simulated ride through outer space, which would either put her to sleep, or give her a whopper of a headache with the earsplitting special effects. But, while pretending to give her some say in the matter, Charlie had pushed his preference. She’d sensed that if she didn’t give in and agree, he’d most likely sit pouting through any film that was her choice.

Her father returned to the book he’d been reading and Ket watched a news show with her mother. Seven-thirty came and still no Charlie Petrie. Ket felt partly relieved, partly annoyed and partly anxious, anticipating she might be stood up. Finally, at seven-forty-five the phone rang.

“I’ll get it,” Lucille said. She went over, picked up the phone and said, “Hello? Oh, yes, she’s right here. Tell her what?” She hung up the phone and turned slowly to face Ket, a worried frown on her face.

Suddenly Ket knew what had brought the frown to her mother’s face. She stood and said quietly, “He’s not coming, is he?”

Lucille Lindsey shot an agonized glance at her husband and then turned back to face Ket. “No, he said something had come up—an emergency of some kind.”

Ket met her mother’s sympathetic gaze for a moment and felt her eyes fill with tears. She took a deep breath and willed herself not to cry.

“Right. An accounting emergency. Someone forgot to file their taxes. They just realized it,” she joked. Her parents both smiled but neither laughed, she noticed.

Ket avoided looking at them. She sat very still and stared straight ahead. She felt something happening deep within, in some silent, invincible place.

She suddenly became aware that a resolution was forming inside, while not in words, in some way she was saying, I won’t be put through this kind of humiliation again! With an effort she kept her face straight and shrugged. “Well, all dressed up and no place to go.”

“Let the three of us go see a movie. I wouldn’t mind getting out tonight,” Roger said quickly. He saw the pain that had flickered across his daughter’s face and wanted to do something to take it away. He knew that her pride had been hurt badly, and anger washed through him. I’d like to tell that Charlie Petrie what I think of him! To treat a young woman like this…! However, he could say none of this, for a look from his wife, who knew him very well, stilled him on that subject.

“Oh, I don’t think so, Daddy. Why don’t you and Mom go? I think I’ll just change clothes and go out for a little drive.”

Watching as Ket walked stiffly out of the room, her parents waited until the sound of her footsteps faded.

“Oh, Roger, I’m so worried about Ket! She’s not happy.”

“I know she isn’t, but I don’t know what to do about it.” His glance moved to the portraits of their three daughters on the mantle over the fireplace. He studied them for a moment and shook his head. “She’s always putting herself down. She doesn’t think she’s as pretty as Carol or Jenny.”

“I know, and that’s wrong. Carol and Jenny have a different kind of beauty.”

“Well, that’s true enough. They look like you. I wish Ket had taken after you instead of me.”

“Don’t say that, Roger!” Lucille came over and put her arm around her husband. “God made her just as she is.”

“I know. I wanted to tell her that, but somehow I never can.”

Shaking her head almost in despair, Lucille said quietly, “It’s something she’ll have to come to on her own. It’s strange, Roger. She’s such a fine girl. So honest and strong in every way. So bright and caring.”

“And such a clear thinker, too! She can read other people, but she’s never really figured herself out.”

Upstairs, Ketura pulled off the dress and tossed it across the room where it landed on the floor in a heap. Such anger was rare for her, but Charlie Petrie’s rejection had stung terribly. She didn’t know why it hurt so much. She didn’t even really like him and didn’t respect him anymore, either. He was such a coward. He didn’t even have the nerve to cancel on her himself, but had left her mother to do it. Who needed a guy like that?

Picking up her dress and throwing it across a chair, she yanked off the shoes and panty hose, then pulled on a pair of comfortable khakis, a favorite blue polo shirt, socks and sneakers. Feeling much better, she grabbed her purse and left the house. She got into her blue convertible, started the engine and put the top down. She’d bought the car used, at a reasonable price, but it was still the most impulsive, frivolous purchase of her life. The aging vehicle wasn’t even entirely reliable, but Ket loved the feeling of freedom she experienced while driving with the top down. The wind ruffled her hair as she pulled away from the house and cruised down the street, and Ket felt all her cares blown away with it.

Fragments of the sunset threw a magenta haze over the west for the summer had brought the long days. Now she drove without thinking, just anxious to get away. Swerving and changing lanes, Ket thought of how her life had been so successful in some ways and such a failure in others. Scholastically, she had always excelled and now in her last months of training for her R.N. she was known at Mercy Hospital as an excellent new nurse. She had always been successful at sports, too, and one tennis pro had told her she could make a living at the game, if she wanted to give her life to it. Ketura had laughed at him. “Tennis isn’t something you give your life to. I need more than that.”

She reached the interstate and as soon as she was clear of the Dallas city traffic, she stepped on the accelerator. As always, as the wind rushed toward her and the road swept by, she experienced that delight in the open car that she could not explain.

She drove for nearly an hour, enjoying her solitude, then finally turned back toward the city. As she sent the car through the darkness, she listened to her favorite station on the radio. It was typical that she would listen to such a station, which played the nostalgia music of the forties and fifties—the famous big bands and the great vocalists of that era. Somehow the music soothed her, and when she got back to Dallas she turned off the highway abruptly and soon found herself at a place she knew very well—the parking lot of the ballpark in Arlington—home field of her favorite major league team.

She parked the convertible, got out and began to walk. There was no ball game that night. The team was on a road trip. The skies had turned a velvety blue-black hue now, and overhead a Cheshire cat moon grinned down at her. The stars were sprinkled liberally overhead, and the air of night felt warm. She moved toward the stadium itself, the home plate entrance, and when she got there thought how different it was here when there was no game. The sound of traffic—of heavy trucks and smaller cars—came to her like a distant hum not unlike that of bees. But here there was a quietness that was almost palpable. Looking up, she walked up to the barred gates and wished that there were a game tonight to take her mind off her ruined evening. She loved baseball and could quote innumerable statistics to the amusement of her father and the displeasure of her mother. “It’s not ladylike,” Lucille always said with a frown. But something about the game—ribald and rough as it was—pleased her.

Finally she turned and began walking over the vacant parking lot, acres and acres of concrete with the tall poles bearing light all around. As she walked her mind returned again and again to the debacle of her date with Charlie Petrie. “I don’t even like him,” she announced aloud, her voice breaking the silence. And she continued to speak aloud as she sometimes did when she was in places where she was absolutely certain no one could hear. “He has absolutely nothing that would appeal to me. He doesn’t care anything at all about the things that I like. He wouldn’t even go to church with me. That’s enough for me to turn him down, but I didn’t! I agreed to go see that stupid movie with him! Why did I do it?”

Abruptly she turned away as if trying to turn away from her own thoughts, but they followed her as she circled one of the huge light poles and meandered around the acres of empty parking lot. But as she did, she faced the truth about herself. “I wanted a date. I wanted some man to like me. What’s wrong with that? Every woman likes that!”

The argument seemed sound enough, but somehow Ket was not happy with it. She turned, shaking her head, and moved back to her car. Instead of getting in, she leaned against it, fixed her eyes on the stadium, thought of the lights and the cheers and the screams of the crowd when one of her favorite players knocked the ball out of the park, and wished again that there were a game. Finally, however, she opened the door and got in. Settling behind the wheel, she said, “I guess I’ve got to face up to it.” She gripped the steering wheel hard until her hands ached, then spoke up firmly, “I’m never going to find a Prince Charming. There’ll be no wedding bells or family for me. I’ll have to fill my life up with other things!”

Overhead she saw the Cheshire cat moon grinning—old silver glowing in the sky—but it gave her no pleasure. Still speaking aloud softly, she argued with herself. “I really should count my blessings. I have so much. I’ve got a good family. I’ve got a good church—and I’ve found a career I love. A lot of women would like to have all of that. And I have India.”

The thought of India washed over her quickly—images of Bombay where she had already made two mission trips with a team of doctors and nurses. Her heart had been touched by that place and the terrible conditions of the people there. She remembered a tiny woman that she had found in the streets, emaciated and drawn, and somehow the love of God had flowed through her and she had sat down and held the woman until she died in her arms. From that moment she had known that someday she would serve God as a medical missionary in India.

“Yes, I’ve got India. That’s my future. Something to work toward. My life can really make a difference. As for Prince Charming, who needs him? Even if I met a man I really liked, that would only complicate things. God obviously doesn’t want me to get involved with anyone right now, so I’ll be free to do the work He’s called me to,” she reasoned.

With determination she started up the car and headed toward the exit. Somehow she knew that this night had changed her life. “No Prince Charming for me,” she murmured as she headed toward home.

When she reached the house, Ket was surprised to see that the lights were still on. She went inside and found her father, dressed in his pajamas and a robe, sitting at the kitchen table. He was dipping graham crackers into a glass of milk—his favorite snack. Looking up, he said at once, “I’ve been worried about you, Ket.”

“Oh, I’m all right. You shouldn’t have waited up.”

Roger Lindsey sat there struggling for words. The love he had for this daughter of his was enormous. Perhaps it was because she needed him more than his other two daughters, although he cared deeply for them. Now he dipped a graham cracker into the milk, bit it off, swallowed then said, “Try not to care too much. He’s not worth it.”

“No, he’s not.” Forcing a smile, Ket came over and put her arm around her father. “Don’t worry about me, Dad. I’m all right. I have plenty going on in my life. I have plans. My training will be over soon, and I’ll be an R.N.”

“And then you’ll be going off to India and leaving us.”

“Yes, but that’s what God has called me to do. So, you wouldn’t want me to do anything else, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” He stood, suddenly put his arms around Ket and hugged her tightly. “I’m very proud of you, daughter,” he said huskily. Then he turned and left the room, saying, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ket quickly showered, put on her nightgown, but she was thinking of her father. He wants to help, she thought, but he doesn’t know how a woman who’s rejected feels. I don’t think any man could ever understand that—but he’s a sweet thing. Why can’t I find one like him, who loves tall plain girls?

Finally she got into bed, turned the reading light on and propped herself up. Picking up the thick Bible from her bedside table, she began to read. The Bible was her favorite book. She read other things, of course, but this was the one that really appealed to her. She was reading now all the way through the Bible from Genesis to Revelation and had reached the thirtieth chapter of Isaiah. He was her favorite among the major prophets, and she settled down, forcibly putting everything out of her mind except the text that was before her. She had an enviable way of focusing on the thing at hand. Other things might occur, but once she was in this mode, whether it was studying medicine or the Bible, or reading a poem, she had learned the secret of total concentration.

She began reading and the first verse said, “Woe to the rebellious children, saith the Lord, that take counsel, but not of Me.” She thought about that for a moment, for she also had the habit of reading a verse, stopping and thinking, and meditating upon it. “A hard thing to say to the old Israelites,” she murmured. Then she read the second verse, which said, “That walk to go down into Egypt, and have not asked at My mouth; to strengthen themselves in the strength of Pharaoh, and to trust in the shadows of Egypt!”

Somehow the verse seemed to reach out. “This is really a tough thing. God is saying that the old Hebrews trusted the strength of Pharaoh rather than putting their trust in the Lord God.”

And as always, she tried to make a personal application. Lord, have I done that? Have I trusted in something else beside You? You know I don’t want to do that, for You are my hope and my trust. And I love You more than anyone else, or anything else. So, let me trust You and not in Egypt or anything this world offers me.

A sense of approval and peacefulness came to her. It was not something she could have described to anyone else, but as she prayed and meditated, Ket often felt that when she surrendered herself to God, He gave His approval by this sort of feeling. Suddenly a startling thought touched her. Maybe I’ve been trusting the worldly things to get a husband instead of trusting God.

The thought disturbed her for it was almost as if a hand had been laid on her. Slowly she began to review her life. She was well aware that all women did things to make themselves attractive and, deny it as they might, they laid plans to get a husband. It was not a thing women talked about, for traditionally the man was the one expected to do the pursuing. Women did not bait traps and catch husbands that way—at least none of them that she had known admitted it.

She sat there for a long time. The only sound was the antique clock that had belonged to her grandparents slowly beating out the time. It made a solitary echo in her room as she thought, It’s not wrong for a woman to dress up and to make herself attractive, is it, Lord? She didn’t seem to get an answer, but somehow an uneasiness filled her. She continued to read and then finally in the fifteenth verse, one of those moments came when the verse seemed to jump off the page. It was almost as if it leapt right into her heart, it struck with such force.

“For thus saith the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel; In returning and rest shall ye be saved; in quietness and in confidence shall be your strength….”

Somehow the verse nudged at Ket, and she paused again and thought, “In quietness and confidence shall be your strength.” Well, I haven’t done that. I remember back when I was just fifteen how I tried to be like Carol and Jenny and the other girls. I tried everything in the book to catch a boyfriend, but somehow I never was able.

She thought again of the embarrassments and the humiliation she had endured to make herself popular, and how those attempts had failed. Oh, she had attracted a few, but no one that had pleased her. Now she went back and studied the words again.

Lord, are You telling me to just be quiet in returning and rest shall ye be saved? To just let You have this thing?

Again she waited, listening for the impression of some kind to come from God. She had never heard the voice of God literally and did not expect to. Still, there had been so many times in her life when after a long prayer, and sometimes even fasting, God had “spoken” so clearly within her spirit that she knew that God was speaking to her in this way. Now she waited, and the longer she waited the more strongly she believed that the verse was speaking directly to her heart. All right. I’ll rest and wait on You. You’ll be my strength, Lord.

She was growing sleepy now but she continued to read, and when she got to the twentieth verse, once again she was brought up short. “And though the Lord give you the bread of adversity, and the water of affliction, yet shall not thy teachers be removed into a corner any more, but thine eyes shall see thy teachers.”

She thought, What does that mean, Lord? and then the first part of the verse came to her, and she thought, “The bread of adversity and the water of affliction.” I guess that’s what I’ve had as far as romance is concerned. I haven’t had any victory there.

She looked down then and read aloud the twenty-first verse. “‘And thine ears shall hear a Word behind thee, saying, This is the way, walk ye in it, when ye turn to the right hand, and when ye turn to the left.’”

At that moment Ketura knew that God was giving her a promise. It happened before, more than once, and she felt a sudden glad joy as she realized that this was God’s way of speaking to her. I’m going to hear a voice that will tell me what to do. Is that right, Lord? She was very sleepy and closed the Bible. Turning out the light, she lay back and began to repeat the twenty-first verse over and over again. “‘And thine ears shall hear a Word behind thee, saying, This is the way.’” Lord, that’s what I want, she prayed silently.

Sleep came but she did not sleep well. More than once she almost came out of her sleep, and finally when dawn came she awakened.

As soon as consciousness came to her, she had one of those mystic moments when she knew that she was in the presence of the Lord. And the Lord was saying in her heart and in her spirit, and in her mind: This is the way, walk ye in it. Obey me and I will give you a husband….

Ket’s eyes flew open and she gasped. “Give me a husband! Surely that’s not what God’s saying to me!” But she lay there pleading to God for a long time, and the impression did not cease.

Finally Ketura took a deep breath. All right, God. If I’m going to have a husband, You’ll have to give him to me because I’m not hunting for Prince Charming on my own anymore!

Chapter Three

Ketura laid her pen down and flexed the fingers of her right hand. They were aching from writing steadily in her diary for the past hour. Now as she leaned back and studied what she had written, a wry thought came to her. Here I am like a teenage girl, keeping a journal. How sophomoric!

Perhaps it was unusual for someone to keep a journal faithfully for so many years, but it had become a part of Ket’s life. The first page went all the way back to when she was seven years old and had announced firmly to her mother, “I’m going to keep a diary all my life.” Her mother had smiled indulgently, but Ket had found putting her thoughts and emotions on paper a good way to analyze who she was. The shelf in her closet now was filled with a line of blank books bought at the bookstore, all of them filled. From time to time she took them out and studied the careful, adolescent handwriting of her early years, finding that almost as interesting as the contents. It had amused her at times to see how earthshaking and traumatic certain events were to a fourteen-year-old, such as making an error in a softball game, which had cost the team the championship. She had written plainly “I think I’ll kill myself!” at the end of that entry.

Now, however, her life as it was capsuled onto these pages had become more important to her. Ever since she had started feeling like a giantess, as she put it, and lacked the prettiness that attracted boys, she had recorded her feelings on the pages instead of sharing them with someone else.

Now as she half closed her eyes and thought how horrified she would be if anyone were to read her journals, the impulse came to burn them all. It was not the first time she had thought of such a thing, but she knew she could not do that for these books had become like old friends to her.

Maybe one day when I’m an old, old woman I’ll read these, and what I’m thinking will seem as foolish as my actions do at the present. She leaned forward, straightened, arched her back and read what she had written.

April 6

I hardly know how to put down what I feel. I have always been so resistant and even had superior feelings for those who said, “God told me to do such and such.” It always seemed to me that they were boasting that they had a straight line to God that the rest of us lacked. I still feel that way—but for the past three days I have been haunted by what has happened.

Does God really speak to people in dreams and in visions? Oh, I know He did speak in such a way to characters in the Bible, but surely now we have the Bible. And why would He speak to me? It would seem likely that if He spoke to anyone so directly, it would be to His chosen vessels—missionaries on the field, evangelists, people working in hard situations in the inner city. Those people whom I admire so much need a direct voice from God.

I can’t get away from it! I heard nothing that could have been caught on a tape recorder or was an audible voice, and yet still within my mind, or heart, or soul—or wherever it is that that part of us who talks and listens to God resides—it keeps coming back over and over again, “and thine ears shall hear a Word behind thee saying, This is the way, walk ye in it.”

Oh, Lord, I am ready to listen to any Word You have to say—but what Word! Are You really saying that You’re going to bring a man into my life who will be my husband? My head is full of strange, confused thoughts, and I haven’t been able to work as I should for the past three days. People are starting to give me strange looks, but still that verse keeps coming into my heart. Is it from You, or is it what a psychiatrist would call wish fulfillment? I have no idea, but, Lord, if it’s not from You, I pray this morning that You would take it completely out of my mind!

Quickly she put the top on her pen, closed the diary and put it in the drawer beneath her underthings. She wondered if the diary was safe there from prying eyes, and the ridiculous notion came, Well, what if I got killed? They would find it and read it.

Giving a short laugh, she rose and said, “I wouldn’t care then. I’d be in heaven. Maybe they’d get a good laugh out of it.”

Going downstairs, she ate a quick breakfast, then left at once for the hospital. She had learned to handle the Dallas traffic, and taking every shortcut and weaving in and out she arrived with fifteen minutes to spare. Getting out of the car, she looked up at the massive, white marble with which Mercy Hospital was built. Appreciating once again the fact that she had had a good year, her first year as an L.P.N.—licensed, practical nurse. She remembered how frightened she had been when she had come there for the first time.

Entering briskly, she went at once to the third floor and found Maggie Stone waiting for her, her brown eyes were snapping and her sandy hair escaped out from under her white cap. “You’d better watch out for Dr. Bjelland. He’s on the war path today!”

Fastening her cap more securely, Ket took a deep breath. “What’s it about this time?”

“I don’t know. Does he need a reason?” Maggie was one year older than Ket and wanted two things in this world, and she kept neither of them a secret. First she wanted to finish her nursing degree. Second, she wanted a husband, a goal she would announce straightforwardly to anyone. “Not a doctor. A stockbroker perhaps,” she’d specify. “Someone who doesn’t bring any problems home with him.” Why Maggie should have thought stockbrokers had no problems, Ket could not imagine. But now as the two left the dressing room and went down the halls, she listened as Maggie explained why the man she had been dating definitely would not do.

The two young women were caught up at once in the busy life of a huge hospital. Ket was assigned to the cardiac ward, a duty that affected her more profoundly than she had ever known. It was worse to her than the emergency room. There the cases often entered in critical conditions sometimes, with patients dying and always frightened. That was difficult, of course—but in the cardiac ward there was an ominous air that seemed to permeate even the furniture and the walls. Fear was a part of the atmosphere that all patients shared, and as Ket went about her duties she made it a point to spend as much time with those who were most anxious and apprehensive.

It was midway through the morning when Ket spotted the interns following Dr. Lars Bjelland as he entered her unit on his rounds. Bjelland was a Norwegian with a trace of his roots in his speech. Rotund with a square face and a shock of iron-gray hair, at the age of fifty-five he looked more like a plumber than a skilled surgeon. His eyes were pale blue and he had the huge hands of a farmer. He attacked medicine the way that his ancestors probably attacked a Saxon village: with all his strength and dragging everyone along with him.

While Ket found Dr. Bjelland abrasive, she knew he was a good doctor and she admired his skill and experience. Still, she was not in the mood for one of his confrontations today and tried her best to avoid him and the flock of interns that followed in his wake. Just like every other woman on the unit, she couldn’t help but notice Jared Pierce among the group, standing a head taller than the others and twice as handsome. While some of the nurses seemed determined to throw themselves in the path of the roaming herd, Jared’s presence was another reason for Ketura to sidestep them.

But to her dismay, she was looking in on Denny Ray when the entire group filed into the room. Ketura felt like a salmon, swimming against the stream as she tried to quietly make her way to the door. With her gaze down, she slowly worked her way toward the exit, weaving her way around the interns while, across the room, Dr. Bjelland lectured.

“Excuse me…excuse me…” she mumbled, working her way through the crowd. Ketura had almost reached freedom when suddenly she collided with something—or someone. She stumbled for a second, then a strong grip seized her shoulders and helped her regain her balance.

“Ketura—sorry. I didn’t see you there,” a deep voice apologized.

Her gaze flew up and met Jared Pierce’s surprised expression. She stared into his blue eyes for a second and then quickly stepped back, bumping into a plastic chair.

“My fault,” she mumbled.

The incident took only seconds, but still attracted Dr. Bjelland’s attention. He paused in his lesson and pinned Ketura with a steely glance.

“You there. Nurse Lindsey. Stop the chatter please. You can learn from this conversation, too. It wouldn’t hurt, you know.”

“Yes, Doctor. Please go on. Sorry for the interruption.” Ketura turned and faced Dr. Bjelland, giving her full attention now like the interns. She knew she was trapped, unable to leave until Bjelland dismissed them. She stood wedged between Jared and the plastic chair, shoulder to shoulder with him, but trying her best to ignore his unnerving proximity.

Of course he didn’t see me. Nearly six feet tall, but no matter. I’ve always been invisible to Jared Pierce. Ket glanced at the tall, handsome man beside her and the impression was once again confirmed. He seemed no more aware of her than he was of the furniture. His attention was completely focused on Dr. Bjelland as the senior physician talked on about Denny Ray’s symptoms and condition, medical information Ketura knew by heart by now.

Her mind strayed and she thought again of the verse that had come to her, going endlessly over the question in her mind. Is this feeling, this message truly from God? Then a second question would soon follow. If God’s going to send me a husband, how will He do it, and how will I know him? What will he be like?

Suddenly there was a silence. Ket blinked and came out of her reverie. She felt everyone staring at her, including Jared Pierce and her favorite patient, Denny Ray Kelland. She turned her gaze to Dr. Bjelland and knew at once that he had spoken to her and she had missed it completely.

“I—I’m sorry, Dr. Bjelland, I didn’t hear you.”

“Do you have a hearing problem, Nurse Lindsey?”

“No, sir.”

“You didn’t hear me, but you don’t have a hearing problem? How do you account for that?”

“I suppose…that I let my mind drift for a minute.”

“Well, that’s fine! I invited you to participate in a learning opportunity with these doctors and perhaps share your special knowledge of this young patient with us—and you have let your mind drift! What were you thinking of? Share it with us. It must be very important for you to leave all care of your patient to indulge yourself in it.”

Ket swallowed. She felt her cheeks flush. She’d always been a favorite of Dr. Bjelland, but she was now discovering how it felt when the keen blade of his sarcasm slashed out. She had seen others demolished, cut off at the knees practically, when this had happened, but she had never found herself under the knife.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “It won’t happen again, Dr. Bjelland.”

“I should hope not!” Bjelland glared at her for a moment, and for a moment she was afraid he was about to deliver another harsh word. But instead, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt Jared’s gentle touch on her arm; it lasted but a moment, just long enough to signal his silent support.

“I’m not sure I heard your question that clearly, either, Dr. Bjelland.” Jared’s voice was confident and steady, despite the senior doctor’s intimidating manner that had the other interns shaking in their boots. “There were some orderlies passing with a cleaning cart. It was quite noisy on this end of the room.”

Dr. Bjelland cast him a doubtful look, but Ket noticed that Jared’s gaze did not waver. She’d been so lost in thought herself, she honestly couldn’t say now if a cleaning cart had passed or not.

“A cleaning cart, eh?” Dr. Bjelland shook his head. He wouldn’t give in so easily. Not to an intern. “I thought she was perhaps considering what color of lipstick she might wear on her date tonight.”

“She don’t date,” Denny Ray countered.

The exchange drew a burst of nervous laughter from the group. All except Jared, Ket noticed. She felt her cheeks glow even redder, though she didn’t think it possible. She knew Dr. Bjelland was looking at her again, but didn’t dare meet his gaze.

“She doesn’t date? Well, that’s good. The rest of the young women around her are all chasing men fulltime. This hospital is just a happy hunting ground for them.”

Ketura hoped the discussion of her social life would end there, but she wasn’t going to be that fortunate, she realized. Bjelland looked back at the boy saying, “So, she doesn’t date. How do you know?”

“She told me.”

“I see. Well, you two must be pretty close friends for her to speak so intimately to you. Is that right?”

“Sure, she comes to see me all the time when she’s off-duty.”

Dr. Bjelland turned his head and did not speak for a moment. Ket, however, knew him well and saw the approval in his steady eyes, but he only said, “Very commendable. Well, I guess that’s all for you this morning. Maybe I’ll come back and visit you myself on my off time. Will that be all right?”

“Sure, Doc.” Denny Ray nodded cheerfully. “I bet I can beat you at checkers.”

“I bet you can’t. We’ll see.”

The procession filed out and as Ket left, she glanced at Denny Ray. He winked at her, and whispered, “Come and see me!”

Ket mouthed the words, “I will,” and left.

Ketura was walking down the corridor, headed for the nurses’ station when she heard Dr. Bjelland call out to her.

“Just a minute, Nurse Lindsey!”

She turned, took a steadying breath and waited for him to catch up. What now? she wondered with dread.

“I guess I was a bit hard on you back there in Denny Ray’s room,” he admitted gruffly.

“It’s all right, Doctor. I was woolgathering. It won’t happen again.”

Bjelland stared at her. “You’ve always been my favorite new nurse. Maybe I haven’t told you.”

Ket’s lips curled upward. “No, you haven’t exactly overburdened me with compliments. That’s not your way, though.”

“No, it isn’t.” He hesitated then ran both hands through his shock of gray hair. “I’m worried about that boy Denny Ray.”

“What’s your real opinion?”

After listening carefully to a rather pessimistic report from Bjelland, Ket’s heart sank. “You think it’s that serious, then? He doesn’t have any chance at all?”

“Of course he’s got a chance. You believe in miracles, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.”

Dr. Bjelland was himself an outspoken Christian, one of the few on the staff. “I do, too,” he said. “We’re going to do all we can. You, and I, and everybody else, but in the end I’m trusting God to do a work in this boy. We’ll pray about that, won’t we?”

“Yes, sir.”

“All right, on your way.”

When she reached the nursing station, Ket found Maggie and Debbie waiting. “Did he take your head off, honey?” Debbie grinned.

“No, not at all.”

Maggie was staring at Ket. “What’s wrong with you? You’re supposed to be the most dedicated brain around here, and you’re walking around like you’re in a dense fog.”

“I don’t know,” Ket said defensively. “Just thinking.”

“You can’t kid us.” Debbie grinned impishly. “You’ve been in a daze all morning. I believe you’ve met somebody and won’t tell. Come on now. Who is it?”

“I had the same feeling. Come on now, Ket. Tell,” Maggie said.

The young women stared at her and Ket didn’t know what to say. They were a close-knit group and two of the best friends Ket had in the world. Did she dare admit the thoughts that had been distracting her today?

Maggie suddenly lifted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Well, there he goes. Look at him. Is he a cutie or what?”

Ket lifted her glance and the other two followed suit. They watched as Jared Pierce walked by dressed in hospital greens.

“What was he like when you were in school with him, Ket?” Debbie asked.

“Well, he used to play baseball. I used to watch him play when we were in high school. He was an all-American at the University of Texas. I saw him play once on that team, too. When Texas won the national championship. He was a wonderful athlete.”

The young women watched as the tall intern moved on down the hall. “He’s been dating Miss Texas,” Ket remarked.

“You mean Lisa Glenn!” Debbie exclaimed. “She’s beautiful!”

“Yes, everybody says she’ll be Miss America this year,” Maggie replied. She grinned suddenly and her eyes crinkled with amusement. “I think I’ll take him away from her.”

“You won’t do that,” Debbie replied. “He’d be crazy to turn her down.” She snapped her fingers as if thinking of something new. “Did you know she’s coming to the hospital this afternoon?” She tucked her hair under her snow-white cap, adding, “It’s part of her duties as Miss Texas, I think. They do charitable things like that.”

There was no time for more talk, for their duties called. Ket worked hard until two o’clock that afternoon when she took a break by visiting Denny Ray. He brightened up immediately when she entered the room, and said, “Have you got time to play a game of checkers?”

“Sure, but you better watch out. I feel mean this afternoon. Not giving anything away!”

However, Ket did give something away, for she managed to lose four games in a row and took great pleasure in watching Denny Ray’s delight as he won.

“I guess I’m losing my touch,” she said. “I’ll have to figure out some better strategy.”

Denny Ray grinned, his freckles standing out against his pale face. He looked thin and at times there was pain in his eyes as well as fear. “That’s all right, Ket,” he said. “I don’t mind winning.” He put the checkers carefully on the board for another game, then asked, “Where did you get a name like Ketura?”

“It comes from the Bible. Ketura was the second wife of Abraham.”

“I bet the kids made fun of you when you were little.”

“They still do.” Ketura smiled. “However, there’s one advantage. When somebody says, ‘Hey, Ketura!’ there’s no question which Ketura they mean. Why, I think—”

She broke off abruptly for the doors had swung open. She rose quickly from the bed and moved over against the wall, for it seemed the room had suddenly become very crowded.

“Well, what is your name, little fellow?” a sugary voice inquired.

Ket had seen the Miss Texas contest on television and had been shocked at how Lisa had changed. She had been pretty enough in high school, but now she was fully mature—blond with green eyes and shaped as a Miss Texas ought to be, tall but with a curvy figure. She walked over to the bed and spoke in a honeyed voice, “My, aren’t you a nice young man! I hope you’re getting well from whatever’s wrong with you.”

Ket’s eyes shot to Denny Ray’s face. The young boy showed very little, but there was a flash of disdain in his eyes that Ket did not miss. “I’m fine,” he said. “How are you?”

“Why, I’m just fine. Aren’t you a perfect, little gentleman?”

Ket looked over to see a photographer, a short, round man with bushy black hair who at once began taking shots from every angle. The room seemed to explode with the flashes of light and Ket noticed that Lisa Glenn managed to turn her best side and a brilliant smile at the camera for every shot. Ket saw Jared Pierce standing in the doorway. He had not noticed her, she realized. Then the beauty queen began talking in a loud, rather artificially high voice—the type that some used with sick people when they know nothing else to do.

Suddenly Ket’s eyes met his and he nodded briefly. She returned the nod and then she heard Lisa say, “Is there anything at all I can do for you, sweetie?”

Suddenly Denny Ray flashed a glimpse at Ket. A peculiar expression crossed his face and she knew he was up to something. “Sure,” he said quickly. “Sit down and play a game of checkers with me.”

Dismay swept across Lisa’s flawless features. “Why, I’d—I’d love to, honey, but I have to go see some other patients. You know how it is?”

“Yeah, I know how it is,” Denny Ray said evenly.

Ket turned her glance away from Lisa’s bright smile to see a frown on the face of Dr. Jared Pierce. He must know how phony she is, Ket thought. But she had no time to think more, for the party prepared to head out for the next photographic appointment.

“Hello, Lisa,” Ket said quietly.

“Why—Ket, it’s you!” Lisa at once came over and hugged Ket, keeping her best side to the photographer. “Why, you haven’t changed a bit! But what in the world are you doing here?”

“I’m on the nursing staff.”

“Isn’t that wonderful!” Lisa turned to wag a finger at Jared. “You didn’t tell me Ket was working here.”

“Guess I forgot.”

“Well, shame on you for that, Jared Pierce! Why Ketura and I were pals in school, weren’t we, Ket?” Ket was glad that Lisa did not wait for an answer from her, for the two of them had never been friends in any sense of the word. “Well, now, we’ll have to get together, won’t we? I’ll call you.”

“That would be nice,” Ket said quietly, noting that Lisa didn’t ask for her phone number. She watched as the small group was led out of the room by Lisa, then moved back over to stand beside Denny Ray. Ket smiled. “Well, you met a beauty queen. What did you think?”

“Boy, I feel sorry for the guy who gets stuck with her!”

Surprise swept across Ket’s face. “Why do you say that?”

“Because she’s a phony, that’s why! She smiles with her teeth but not her eyes, and she talks too loud. And she called me honey and sweetie when she doesn’t even know me.”

“I think she meant well, Denny Ray.”

“Sure, I guess so—but she’s a phony for all of that.”

Ket was amazed at the insight of the young man. She knew that his sickness had made him study people more carefully than most boys his age. “Well, I’ve got to go to work. Tell you what. Why don’t I bring you a video tomorrow, and you and I will watch it.”

“Good, I’m tired of these dumb cartoon shows. See if you can find an adventure story or something exciting.”

Ket laughed. “I think I can handle that. I like a story with plenty of action, too.”

She left the room then, and as she passed down the hall she heard the rather metallic laughter of Miss Texas drifting from an open doorway. She glanced in the room and saw the scene was being repeated. Only this time the patient was an elderly woman who was staring with shock at the beautiful, young girl who was telling her she was going to be fine.

“She’s not going to be fine,” Ket muttered between gritted teeth, “and it’s not going to do any good for you to sweep in here telling people things like that.” She was surprised at the strength of her emotion but then put it out of her mind as much as possible and went about her duties.

For the next four days Ket continued to feel an inner assurance that she was going to be married. She could not get the words or feelings out of her head. She dreamed about it, but still she found it almost impossible to believe.

“I’m becoming a basket case!” she muttered one morning when she had lain awake for hours thinking about the Scripture and how ridiculous it might be for her God to be taking time to speak to her. “I just can’t believe it’s happening.”

Still it went on, and more and more she began to be open to the concept that perhaps God was telling her something. “I’ve got to be very careful though. It would be so easy to make a big mistake,” she cautioned herself. And she prayed for guidance and discernment. Prayer would keep her on the right path.

Chapter Four

The June sky was without a cloud, and the sun was hot as Ket cast her bait into the midst of a thick growth of water lilies. She let it lie there for ten seconds, counting slowly, then lifted her rod abruptly giving the plug a twitch. Instantly there was a thrashing in the lily pads and the line tightened, bringing the casting rod down level. Ket jerked the tip of the rod upward, sinking the hook and yelling at the top of her lungs, “I’ve got him, Dad! I’ve got him!”

“Hey, watch out! You’re going to turn the boat over!” Roger Lindsey sat in the front of the bass boat and laughed aloud as he watched Ket fight to pull the fish out of the lily pads.

“You’ll never get him in. He’s going to get hung up,” he said. He watched as she skillfully worked the fish, and thought, She’s a better fisherman than I am. Better than most men. Aloud, he said, “I never saw anybody get so excited over a little thing like a fish. One of these days you’re going to jump right out of the boat and haul yourself over to a bass, hand over hand.”

Ket did not answer for, as always, she had a mild form of insanity when she got a fish hooked, especially a large fellow like this one. It seemed the whole world disappeared, and all she knew was the tug of the fish on her line, the splashing of the water and the fish’s mad attempt to escape.

“He’s a whale, Dad!” Ket yelled. “May be a record!”

Roger watched with amusement and pride as Ket worked the fish close to the boat, then reached out quickly, grabbed the landing net and slipped it under the fish. When she lifted it out of the water, he whistled, “Say, that is a big fish! He might go eight or nine pounds!”

Ket looked down to see that her hands were trembling. “Look at that! I’m not going to make much of a nurse if I get all shaky over a little thing like a fish.” She reached in and got the fish by the underjaw and lifted him out. Her father came quickly with the scales and hooked it into the fish’s jaw, then waited until he stopped thrashing. “Eight and three quarter pounds! That’s a fine bass! Be good for supper tonight.”

“No, I’m going to have him mounted. We can get some fish at the supermarket.”

“He would make a nice trophy. Look at those colors!” Roger said admiringly. The two carefully put the fish into a wire basket and lowered him so that he would live as long as possible.

“Let’s go home,” Ket said. “Anything after this would be an anticlimax.”

“Suits me. Time we get by Ed’s house and let him start on your fish. It’ll be getting late anyhow.”

The two got their gear stowed and Ket moved to the driver’s seat. She started the powerful engine and soon the boat was skimming across Runaway Bay.

“I love to come out here,” she shouted with the roar of the engine.

“You ought to come more. Both of us should.”

“All right, it’s a date.”

Ket and her father parked the boat in their marina and soon were on their way home. They stopped off to give the fish to the taxidermist, Ed Jennings, and he promised to have it mounted in a few days.

Roger pulled onto the main road and headed home. He glanced across the seat at his daughter, who looked tired but content. Her hair was blowing in the wind from the open windows and he thought again how much she looked like him. I should wish she were small, petite and beautiful like her sisters and Lucille—but this one is mine. After a moment, he said, “How’s it going at the hospital?”

“Oh, fine.” She hesitated and then said, “I’m worried about one of our patients, a ten-year-old boy. He has a bad heart problem.”

“He’s not doing well?”

“No—not at all.”

“What chance does he have?”

“I don’t know, Dad. I talked to Dr. Bjelland, but he won’t come right out and say. I don’t think he’s very hopeful though, and he’s such a sweet boy.”

“That’s tough. It’s hard to hear about anybody that sick, but when it’s a ten-year-old, that really gets to your heart, doesn’t it?”

Suddenly Ket remembered the visit by Lisa Glenn, and she gave her father a summary. Indignantly, she said, “She didn’t care about Denny Ray. She was too busy posing for the camera.”

“That’s pretty harsh coming from you, Ket.”

Ket flushed and ran her hand through her hair. “I know, but it was so obvious. Denny Ray knew what she was doing right away. He said so as soon as she left.”

“Well, at least he’s got you on his side.” He changed the subject, saying, “Did you know that she’s going to be in church tomorrow?”

“Who’s going to be in church tomorrow?” Ket asked, turning her gaze on him.

“Why, Miss Texas. Guess you didn’t read the bulletin last week.”

“Lisa’s going to be there?”

“Yes, going to talk about her charity work.”

Sighing deeply, Ket sank down in her seat. “I guess I’ll go, but I don’t like it.”

The next morning Ketura found the large sanctuary at her church packed, for as Ket discovered everyone knew that Miss Texas would be here. She had threatened again not to go, but her father had been firm about that, and knowing he was right, she came reluctantly. And now as the song service went on, she examined Miss Texas very carefully.

Lisa Glenn sat in the front pew, right in front of the minister’s pulpit. She was wearing a beautifully tailored cream-colored jacket with long sleeves and gold-tone buttons. The matching straight skirt came to just below her knees and she had on a pair of shoes with high heels of the same color.

She does look beautiful, Ket thought reluctantly. It’s almost unfair that a woman could be that much better looking than other women.

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