A Veiled Reflection (33 page)

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Authors: Tracie Peterson

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BOOK: A Veiled Reflection
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“Lies have a way of doing that to a person. It's kind of like getting your ball of yarn all tangled and then finding that you only make matters worse as you try to straighten it out.”

“Yes, it's exactly like that,” Jillian said, nodding. “I came here under false pretenses, and that just started the ball rolling. Before I knew it, I was lying to everyone, including my parents and you. I even lied to Little Sister and that breaks my heart now. She was so touched that I would give her my name, but I didn't give her my name.” Sorrow overwhelmed Jillian in the memory.

“But you've already told me about pretending to be Judith,” Mary offered.

“I know, but I didn't tell you about lying to my parents about being engaged to Mac,” Jillian said, looking back to Hope. She was so ashamed of having lied to Mary. “I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted anything more to do with me, but I hope you will hear me out.”

Mary laughed. “I've had folks do a whole lot worse and I still talk to them.”

Jillian smiled and met Mary's compassionate gaze. “Mary, I wasn't really engaged to Mac. I mean, we're married now, but even that came about through a collective misunderstanding.”

“What happened?”

“I wrote to my mother telling her that I had met a wonderful man.”

“Mac.”

“Yes, Mac,” replied Jillian. “Mary, that part wasn't a lie. I've always thought Mac was a truly great man. He was kind and sweet and generous.”

“Good-lookin' fellow too,” Mary teased.

“That didn't hurt matters,” Jillian said, grinning. “But you see, my mother was so insistent on seeing me married off. She had been plotting and planning for years on how to see me married to nobility or at least to someone very wealthy. So when her letters started arriving and she was still suggesting the idea of bringing suitors out here to Arizona, I decided enough was enough.”

“You told her you were marrying Mac and she believed you.” Mary's statement explained away most of the remaining issues.

“Yes. We told everyone in town that we were engaged, mainly because my mother and father were on their way to meet Mac. Mac thought it very funny and decided it would be a good time, but last night my father was livid when he found me talking to a half-dressed Mac. My hair was down and my buttons weren't completely done up, and he presumed I was coming from an evening with Mac.”

“Oh my. I guess that set him on his ear.”

“To say the least. He marched us to the preacher and saw us properly married, only now—” “Only now there's no way to explain to everyone that it was just a make-believe engagement.”

Jillian nodded. “Trouble is, I never wanted it to be make-believe.”

“What are you saying, deary?”

Jillian put the bottle aside and shifted the baby in order to burp her. “I'm saying I love Mac. I've loved him for a long time. The things I wrote to my mother were true, with the exception of actually being engaged. I wrote of falling in love with a wonderful heroic man. And I had.”

“So what's the problem?” Mary asked softly.

“The problem is, Mac thinks that this was all just a game. He said he cares and said he wouldn't have married me if he didn't really want to, but I'm still worried that he only did it out of pity for me.”

Mary guffawed loudly. “Oh, girlie, that boy wouldn't have married anyone out of pity. He's been so heartsick with love for you that it ain't even funny. I've watched him pinin' for you when you were too busy to notice he was even in the same room.”

Jillian's eyes brightened. “So you think Mac is telling the truth? You think he married me because he truly loves me?” she questioned hopefully.

“I know it as sure as I know my name. Is that all you're worried about?”

Jillian shook her head. “No, there's more. Mary, you've been so good to share your love of God with me. I want to know more. I feel a horrible emptiness within me when I look at you and your life. You have purpose and you have direction. Your life seems to mean something.” “Only because God gives it meaning,” Mary offered. “Jillian, have you ever accepted Jesus as your Savior?”

“Sure, I've gone to church all my life. I know Jesus is Savior.”

“No,” Mary said, leaning forward, “I didn't ask if you knew it, I asked if you'd accepted it—accepted Him.”

Jillian felt puzzled. “I don't suppose I really know what you mean.”

Mary leaned back, nodding. “It's not enough to warm a pew on Sunday, Jillian. It's not even enough to believe there is a God and that He has a Son named Jesus. If you don't accept Jesus as your personal Savior and friend, you will go on feeling empty inside.”

“What do I have to do?” Jillian questioned, patting the baby gently. “Just pray and ask Him to forgive you of your sins. Repent and turn away from the old way of doing things—” “The lies?”

“Yes, the lies. Satan is the Father of Lies. You sure don't want to be doing anything to benefit his cause. The lies have to stop, Jillian. They are hurtful and often destroy the people we love. Jesus wouldn't want you lying to save yourself from an uncomfortable situation.”

Hope was already beginning to fall asleep, and after she finished feeding her, Jillian wrapped her tightly in a blanket and cradled her close. “Mary, is this the truth that you said would set me free?”

The old woman smiled knowingly. “It's that and so much more. You know the Navajo people work a great deal with sheep. Up until coming out here with my husband, I knew very little about sheep, but now I know a whole heap more. The sheep are funny. They know their shepherd. Without him, they are silly ninnies always running themselves into trouble. Jesus said, ‘I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep, and am known of mine.' There are plenty of examples in the Bible of us bein' like the sheep. We tend to run willy-nilly without a shepherd to guide us. We head in the wrong direction and do the wrong thing. But you know, Jesus is a compassionate and caring shepherd, Jillian. He'll come after you, even if you're the only lost sheep left on the open range. You mattered enough to Him, long before you were placed on this earth. You mattered so much, in fact, that He decided to help you find your way back to the heavenly Father.

He's the way, Jillian.”

Jillian felt tears streaming down her cheeks. “Sometimes I've felt very lost,” she admitted. “I didn't know why. I thought maybe I was just homesick.”

Mary smiled. “You were, child. Just homesick for a different home. A heavenly one.”

“And all I have to do is repent of my sins and ask for Jesus to be my shepherd?” Jillian questioned hopefully.

“That's right,” Mary said softly. “You want to do that with me now? I can help you pray the prayer if you don't have the words.”

Jillian sniffed back tears. “I'd like that very much, Mary.”

The old woman knelt down beside the bed and waited for Jillian to place Hope in the middle of the bed and join her on the floor. Kneeling there together, Jillian prayed with Mary.

“Father, I'm askin' you to bless Jillian as she comes to you,” Mary said softly. “She's willing to repent of her sins, and she's askin' for your forgiveness.”

“Yes, Lord,” Jillian prayed, “please forgive me my sins and lead my life. Let me seek you always. Save me from evil and give me eternal life in Jesus.”

“Amen!” Mary said, squeezing Jillian's hand.

“Amen.”

Mary laughed. “Feel better?”

“Only partially,” Jillian said, suddenly remembering something Mary had mentioned. “Mary, I don't know for sure if Mac will understand all of this. I don't know if he's a Christian. I mean, he told me he was working on making peace with God. He said he'd gone and talked to Reverend Lister, but I don't know where he stands. Will he think me silly for all of this?”

“Does it matter what Mac thinks in regard to your decision for Christ?” Mary asked as Jillian helped her back to her feet.

“I remember you saying that a person ought to attach himself to God before attaching himself to someone else. I've done that now, but what about Mac? Will it be a problem for us if Mac doesn't believe this way?”

“I think it would probably be a real stronghold for the devil to get in and stir all kinds of grief,” Mary replied. “Why don't you just ask Mac how he feels and find out for certain?”

Jillian twisted her hands and looked away. “I don't feel like I have the right. I feel like there's so much I need to talk to Mac about and this is just one more thing—one very big thing.”

“Would you like me to find out about his spiritual stand?” Mary questioned.

“Would you?” Jillian asked, looking up rather quickly. “Could you just talk to him, at least? Tell him about my choice—ask him if that will be a problem.”

Mary laughed. “I'll go right now. I wanted to see how Mr. Matthews was doin' anyway.”

“Oh, he isn't there. He was getting ready to go out to search for Bear and his bunch early this morning. Gwen was beside herself for fear he'd get hurt.”

“Men are like that sometimes,” Mary said knowingly. “Well, if you want to stay here with Hope, I can go talk to Mac.” She walked to the window and glanced out. “I'm glad it's staying light for longer periods of time. Too bad it'll allow the army longer hours to search for Bear.”

Jillian felt sorry for Mary. “You love those people so much. I can't even begin to comprehend all you feel for them. I love Hope and felt a kinship with Little Sister, but you know them all so well.”

Mary smiled. “Well, not all of them. You know there are quite a few Navajo living out there on the reservation. We only saw a handful who happened to live nearby. There are so many folks out there, though. Folks who are suffering and doin' without. Folks who haven't got anything but dislike for the white men who put them there and took away their freedom.”

“Someday it'll be different, Mary. Someday they'll know about Jesus, and it'll be because of you and your love for them.”

Mary shook her head. “No, child. My love is quite limited. It'll be because of God and His love. He sent His Son to die for them, same as you and me. When Jesus went to that cross, it wasn't just for white-skinned folks. In fact, if you'll look at folks from that part of the world, you'll see their skin is more the color of the Navajo. Someday maybe skin color won't matter. Maybe later, maybe sooner, but someday maybe the love will be enough.”

Jillian embraced Mary in a fierce hug. “Oh, Mary, love just has to be enough. It just has to be.”

TWENTY-FOUR

“JILLIAN DID WHAT?” Mac questioned the feisty woman who'd just marched through his door.

“I said she sent me to talk to you,” Mary replied.

“Why didn't she come herself?”

Mary chuckled and looked her friend over. Mac had become like the son she'd never had. He had helped her many a time, and now she intended to return the favor.

“Mac, Jillian is worried about this marriage.”

Mac sat down hard. “I knew it. I just knew it. Here I thought I was doing the right thing.” He looked up with a lopsided smile. “Well, maybe not the right thing, but a good thing. I thought surely she wouldn't mind being married to me. But she hates me, doesn't she?”

Mary took pity on him as he ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. “You're worse than any lovesick cowpoke I've ever known. You'd think you were a boy still wet behind the ears to listen to you talk.” She put her hands on her hips. “Terrance MacCallister, you ain't usin' the sense the good Lord put in that head of yours.”

Mac looked at her, his blue eyes searching her face for answers. “What are you saying, Mary?”

“I'm saying that Jillian didn't send me over here for any such notion as to tell you that she hates bein' married to you.”

He started to look hopeful. “Then what did she send you for?”

Mary smiled. “I just came from listenin' to your wife take Jesus as her Savior.”

“Jillian?” Mac said with a grin. “That's what this is about?”

With a nod, Mary pulled up a chair and continued. “Mac, she wants to know where you plan to spend eternity. She cares a mite deeply about you and wouldn't want to be fussin' and lovin' over a man bent for hell.”

“Loving? Did she say that word?”

Mary laughed. “I ain't here to talk about your matrimonial bliss. That's up to Jillian. I'm simply here on a spiritual mission. Have you set things right with the Lord, Mac?”

He nodded as if he were a ten-year-old boy being asked if he'd studied his ciphers. “I knew the way, but my pride kept interfering. God helped me to see that I wasn't fooling Him or anyone else with my self-reliance and strong-willed ways. I had a long talk with the Reverend. I asked God to forgive me—to take me back.”

“Good. Then Jillian has nothin' to fear,” Mary said, slapping her hands on her knees.

“Jillian was afraid? Of me?” Mac questioned.

“Don't look so heartbroke. She's listened to those sermons preached about folks being unequally yoked, not to mention the things I've told her privately. She's grown up a piece since comin' to Arizona. Don't you think?”

Mac nodded. “I think she's wonderful, and knowing that she is at peace with God and the other situations in her life—well, who could want more for the woman he loves?”

Mary felt a strong sense of satisfaction in listening to Mac's declaration. “Mac, there's another matter I'd like to ask you about. I mean, I know I've spoke out of turn about it, but I'd like to know if you and Jillian would consider taking Hope to raise her for your own.”

“It's a tremendous responsibility,” Mac replied. “However, I think we'd be hard-pressed to get that baby away from Jillian.”

“She's caring for her right now. I don't know when I've seen a more natural mother. She's going to make a fine wife, in spite of its start as a ploy to fool her folks.”

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