The Miracle, page 1
Other Books by Gilbert Morris
Charade
Jacob’s Way
Edge of Honor
Jordan’s Star
God’s Handmaiden
The Spider Catcher
The Singing River Series
The Homeplace
The Dream
The Miracle
ZONDERVAN
The Miracle
Copyright © 2007 by Gilbert Morris
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Zondervan.
ePub Edition January 2009 ISBN: 978-0-310-54034-2
Requests for information should be addressed to:
Zondervan, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49530
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Morris, Gilbert.
The miracle / Gilbert Morris.
p. cm. — (Singing River series ; bk. 3)
ISBN-13: 978-0-310-25234-4
1. Depressions — 1929 — United States — Fiction. 2. Domestic fiction. I. Title.
PS3563.O8742M57 2007
813'.54 — dc22
2006033495
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Published in association with the literary agency of Alive Communications, Inc., 7680 Goddard Street, Suite 200, Colorado Springs, CO 80920.
All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the King James Version.
Some of the poems in this book first appeared in Those Who Knew Him: Profiles of Christ in Verse, published by Fleming H. Revell, copyright © by Gilbert Morris 1997. Used by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means — electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other — except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
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06 07 08 09 10 11 12 20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
To June Jordan
The world is short of virtuous women,
but there are a few left. You,
June, are one of those
wonderful examples of what
a wife and mot her should be!
Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Part One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Part Two
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Part Three
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Part Four
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Be sure to read this excerpt from the next book n the Singing River Series, The Courtship
Three ways to keep up on your favorite Zondervan books and authors
About the Publisher
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The MIRACLE
PART ONE
A Romance for a Doctor
Chapter 1
A grinding cold had settled down over Stone County and most of northern Arkansas. As Lanie Freeman hurried to slip into her dress, she noted the frost on the windowpanes and shivered. Her upstairs bedroom had a small wood-burning fireplace, but she only used it when she stayed up late reading or writing. Her dress was made of gray lightweight wool with long sleeves, a high neckline, and a fringe of black lace around the edges. Even so, it did not provide enough warmth against the early morning chill.
Moving over to the mirror above her dresser, she studied herself with a critical eye. A faint memory brushed the edges of her mind, pulling the corners of her lips into a smile. The memory brought back a day when she had cried because she was so skinny. One of the boys at school had called her “Rake handle,” and she had flown at him in a rage. Only Davis had been able to pull her off of the boy.
“Well, I’m not skinny anymore.” The young woman gazing back at her from the mirror certainly was no rake handle! As Lanie considered the lissome curves clearly outlined by the dress, she remembered an entry she had made in her journal when she was much younger.
Moving to the pine chest of drawers against the wall, she opened the bottom drawer and pulled out one of many notebooks concealed beneath her folded clothing. She opened the book and, ignoring her shivers, read the entry dated April the twelfth, 1928:
I had to kill Lucille today, and it broke my heart. I hated to do it, but I had to admit she was delicious. I fried her for supper, and we ate all of her. Mama only ate a little bit of the breast and some of the gravy. I’ll be glad when the baby comes and Mama’s strong again, and I’ll be glad if I ever fatten up a little bit.
Lanie felt a keen sense of pain as she remembered her mother, who had, at the time, only a short time left on earth. She was carrying Corliss and would give her life to bring the baby girl into the world.
She leafed through the journal, sometimes smiling as her words brought touching memories, sometimes frowning as her words brought with them pangs of sorrow. When she came to an entry where a letter marked the place, she smoothed back the page and read her words again, just as she had many times before.
They’re going to put us in a foster home if something don’t happen. But I’ve heard about my daddy’s aunt who’s in a nursing home in Oklahoma. We’re going to try to get her to come and live with us so the government won’t break our family up.
Lanie next opened the letter, which was from her Aunt Kezia to her father.
Forrest, my husband has died and the fool spent all his money on a hussy fr om Muskogee. I’d have shot him if I had caught him and her too. He didn’t leave a cent, and I’m living in a room in a rundown boarding house full of idiot s! Got a little money, but when that plays out, they’ll put me in some kind of old folks’ home. Bah! I’ll shoot myself before I put up with that.
A wave of affection for Aunt Kezia filled Lanie. In spite of her advanced age, the old woman had brought safety to the Freeman household. With Lanie’s mother dead and her father in prison, the state had almost broken up the family, but Aunt Kezia had provided a safe haven for them all. Her sharp tongue was sometimes difficult to live with, but Lanie loved her.
She thumbed through the pages and stopped abruptly at the entry marked July the fourth, 1931. That had been the last Fourth of July, and the memory of it was etched clearly on her memory. As she read her words, her cheeks turned warm.
At the fair today I was standing at the Ferris wheel afraid to get in because it reminded me of the day Mama died. Suddenly Owen was there, and he teased me into getting on the Ferris wheel with him. We got in and I hung on, but I was scared. He put his arm around me, and when the car started rocking I just threw myself against him and hung on as if I was a little girl and he was my daddy.
But it wasn’t like that. As I was press ed against him, I knew he was aware I wasn’t the litt le girl he always thinks of when he thinks of Lanie Freeman. And I knew he wasn’t the father figure either. I could have let go but I didn’t want to. I just held onto him and pretended I was frightened. I know it was wrong, but it’ll never come to anything else. He’s engaged to Louise now, and I’ve had to put that dream away.
For a long moment Lanie stood in the center of the room staring down at the words. She had written things in this journal she would never share with anyone else. The thought drew her to her writing desk. Still shivering against the cold, she pulled on a sweater and rubbed her hands together to warm her fingers. Then she opened the notebook, picked up a pen, and began to write:
December 27, 1931
Owen is not married to Louise Langley. That’s the biggest thing in my life right now. She broke their engagement, and when I heard of it my heart nearly jumped out of my chest.
Roger wants me to marry him, but I can’t. I’ve got too many problems. I’ve got to handle all of these things:
1. Davis can’t read.
2. My sister Maeva has a wild streak that’s liable to bust out at any time.
3. Daddy’s in prison and may not be out for a long time.
4. I want to be a writer but there’s no way I ever can be.
5. The Depress ion is getting worse, and I don’t see how we can pay the bills.
6. I’ve got Cass to think of. Davis brought her home and she’s going to have a baby, and I’ve got to help her somehow or other.
She held her pen poised over the journal for a moment, and then she added one note:
In less than a week, it’s going to be a brand new year. I’m going to trust God for every one of these problems.
Firmly she blotted the ink, closed the notebook, and put it back in the lower drawer of the chest. Then she rose and left the room, her head high.
As she started down the hall toward the stairs, she stopped by the room that Maeva shared with Cass. She opened the door and saw her sister propped up in bed, wearing a heavy mackinaw coat to keep off the cold. She was reading a copy of True Romance magazine. Looking up, she grinned. “You ought to read some of these stories, Lanie.”
“Never mind those stories. Get out of bed. It’s time to go to church.”
“I’m not going to church this morning. It’s too cold.”
“You’ve got to go to church. You know that, so let’s not argue about it.”
“You can’t make me go. I’m bigger than you are.”
Indeed, it was true that Maeva, almost seventeen and one year younger than Lanie, was larger. She was also stronger and more athletic. Lanie stared at the girl and tried to think of a way to convince her. “You know,” she finally said, “I can’t make you go, but if Daddy were here, you’d go, wouldn’t you?”
Maeva bit her lower lip, threw the magazine on the floor, and came out from under the covers. “All right. I’ll go to church.” She glared at Lanie. “I’m telling you, you need to read a few love stories
. All you ever think about is money!”
The words hurt. Of course she had to think about money. Somebody had to pay the bills, and considering the desperate times of the Depression, it was a tight squeeze. Almost everybody in Fairhope, in Stone County — in the whole country, for that matter — was enduring hardship.
As she turned and went down the stairs, Lanie thought of Maeva’s charge that she had no romance. I’ve got as much romance in my heart as you have, Maeva. I just don’t fly a flag about it. The angry thought bounced around in her, but she put it aside firmly as she went into the kitchen.
The warmth from the wood-burning cookstove greeted her, and she saw at a glance they were all there: Aunt Kezia, Davis, Cody, Corliss, and Cass, the newest member of the household. Cass was wearing an old dress of hers and a coat that had belonged to her mother. The girl had been in pitiful shape when Davis had found her riding in a boxcar. He had brought her home, not knowing what else to do, and when it was discovered she was only sixteen years old and going to have a baby, by common consent they had agreed to keep her.
“Well, is everybody ready to go to church?”
“Not yet,” said Cody, a wide-eyed young man of fourteen with red hair and green eyes. He was short and stocky with a head as packed with ideas as an egg is packed with yolk. The fact that most of these concepts never got off the ground never seemed to trouble Cody. His eyes gleamed.
Davis, his older brother, said, “We got a new invention, Lanie.”davis was tall, lanky, and had auburn hair and blue eyes. He looked like his father and was a good athlete like him too. “We don’t know what it is yet. He won’t tell us.”
“We don’t have time for that, Cody,” Lanie said. “We’ve got to get to church.”
Aunt Kezia grinned. She never wore old ladies’ clothes but, instead, wore whatever suited her. The dress she had on today was a bright red and white, fit for summer, and over it she had on a coat with a fur neckpiece that was rather bare in spots. She was ninety-one now, but her mind was as sharp as ever. “What is it this time, Cody?
Is it a perpetual-motion machine?”
“Nah. I’m working on that, but I ain’t quite got it yet. Here it is.”
Lanie moved closer to see the invention. It was a strange-looking device, but Cody was an expert at creating strange-looking things. It had a steel rod in the middle and blades of some sort that seemed to circle around it.
“What is it, Cody?”
“Why, can’t you see? It’s a potato peeler. Here, lemme show you how it works. Give me a potato, Lanie.”
Maeva pulled a potato out of the bin and tossed it to him. “I bet ya a nickel it won’t work.”
“You ain’t got a nickel.” Cody grinned. “Besides, you already owe me a nickel.” He plunked the potato down, impaling it on the upright pole, and then reached for a wheel that was on one side. “You watch this now. No more sitting around with a knife trying to get that skin off of there and picking out them little eyes. Cody Freeman’s never-fail, surefire, always-on-the-spot potato peeler is going to make us rich!”
“Let’s see the silly thing work,” Aunt Kezia said. “I peeled enough infernal potatoes that it’d be a good thing if you could put a stop to that.”
“Here we go.” Cody turned the wheel, and the blade slashed and circled the potato. It was all over in a few seconds.
Davis began to laugh. “Look at that. You peeled that potato, all right.”
Lanie couldn’t help but smile. The blades had not just peeled the skin off; it had removed all the potato except a stubby round shape no more than an inch thick.
Maeva snorted. “I told you that dumb thing wouldn’t work. Now you owe me a nickel.”
“No, I don’t. You wouldn’t bet.” They all waited to see how Cody would defend his failure, for he never admitted defeat. “It’s gonna work. It just needs a few adjustments.”
“We got to do something about this lack of confidence you got, Cody.” Davis grinned.
“You just wait.” Cody nodded firmly. “I got another invention.
It’s going to work too.”
“What is it?” Lanie asked.
“It’s a chicken-plucking invention.”
“Oh, that’ll never work.” Maeva shook her head and scowled.
“You probably want to pluck ’em while they’re still alive.”
“We can argue about that some other day,” Lanie said, “but right now we’ve got to get to church. So let’s go.”
She picked up Corliss, who had been watching the doings of the grown-ups. At the age of three, she was the pet of all the Freemans. She was her mother all over again and all they had on earth left of her. She would have been spoiled rotten, but she was the sweetest- tempered, smartest child any of them had ever seen. “Going to church,” she said with a bright smile.
“Yes. Going to church.” Lanie kissed her on the cheek and said, “If everybody in the world were as sweet as you, it’d be a good world.”
They piled into the ancient Ford pickup, the girls in the front, and Davis and Cody in the back. The engine turned over slowly and burst into a cacophonous roar. “I’m sure glad Pardue put a self-starter on this thing,” Lanie said to Aunt Kezia.
Kezia was bundled up to the eyes. “I wish there wasn’t nothing but horses. You didn’t have to crank them. Just get on and go.”
Since Aunt Kezia had grown up in the world where the horse was king, the girls could not argue. Lanie moved the Ford away from the curb. As she drove down the street, she waved at the neighbors, who waved back. In a town like Fairhope almost everyone went to church. The Catholics had already gone to an early Mass, but the Presbyterians, the Methodists, the Baptists, and the Pentecostals were making their way to their respective churches.
When she got to the Baptist church, Lanie had to park a block away. Everyone got out, and they walked toward the church, joining others from their congregation.
Reverend Colin Ryan stood at the door, greeting his flock. He was the interim pastor of the Fairhope Baptist Church, and many said with his black hair and dark blue eyes he was too good-looking to be a preacher. Besides that, Colin rode a motorcycle, rarely wore a tie, and broke most of the conventions that Baptists usually expected their pastors to follow. Those who didn’t like his ways comforted themselves by saying, “He’ll soon be gone from here.” But Lanie hoped he’d stay a good long time.
Colin shook their hands warmly as they passed through the doorway into the church. “Well, here’s my favorite folks.”
Lanie smiled. “You say that to everyone.”
“Well, I guess they’re all my favorites. How you doing, Cody?Still preaching the Word?”
“Every chance I get, Brother Colin.” Since he had been converted recently and baptized in the Singing River, Cody idolized the pastor.
“Better get in. It’s crowded this morning.” He smiled, showing his cleft chin to its fullest.
Lanie went inside and deposited Corliss in the nursery, where she at once began playing with the alphabet blocks. She had already learned her letters, which delighted the other Freemans.
