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"Are you sure?"
"I'm positive." She looked stricken. "Do you remember when I fell against you? Someone bumped me hard. It must have happened then."
"How much money did you have in your wallet?"
"Forty-three dollars. Everything I had."
She looked so forsaken and bewildered that his heart turned over in his chest. He knew how strong she was, and he told himself she'd recover from this latest setback, but he also wondered how many times one human being could get knocked to her knees and keep climbing back up.
"Let me go check around over where it happened. Maybe it fell out of your purse when you were bumped and someone turned it in at one of the tables."
He could see she didn't believe that would happen. He didn't believe it himself. Her luck wasn't that good.
As they cleared their trash, Rachel tried to conceal how upset she was from Gabe. She desperately needed that forty-three dollars to make it through next week.
Edward lagged behind as they left the picnic tables. They had to pass the bake sale on their way, where Carol was still working, along with an older woman cheerfully dressed in red slacks and a short-sleeved blouse printed with red and yellow hibiscus. Rachel recognized her as the grandmother of Emily, the little girl with leukemia. Her heart sank as the woman spotted her.
"Mrs. Snopes!"
"What are you doing, Fran?" Carol frowned as the older woman shot out from behind the table and made her way to Rachel.
The woman's wooden parrot earrings bobbed as she smiled at Rachel, then turned her head toward Carol. "I've asked Mrs. Snopes to go to my daughter's house and pray over Emily."
"How could you do that?" Carol cried. "She's a charlatan."
"That's not true," Fran chided gently. "You know how desperately we need prayers. Only a miracle can save Emily."
"You won't get a miracle from her!" Carol's dark eyes bore into Rachel's, and her sharp features twisted with consternation. "Do you have any idea how much this family has suffered? How could you raise their hopes like this?"
Rachel began to deny that she'd done any such thing, but Carol wasn't finished. "How much are you charging them? I'll bet you put a big price tag on your prayers."
"I don't have any prayers," Rachel replied honestly. She took a deep breath and gazed directly at Emily's grandmother. "I'm sorry I can't help you, but I'm no longer a believer."
"As if you ever were," Carol retorted.
But Fran merely smiled and regarded Rachel with deep compassion. "If you look into your heart, Mrs. Snopes, you'll know that's not true. Don't turn your back on us. My own prayers tell me that you can help Emily."
"But I can't!"
"You won't know until you've tried. Would you just go see her?"
"No. I won't give you false hopes."
"Pull out your checkbook, Fran," Carol said. "She'll change her mind."
For a woman who was supposed to be filled with the love of God, Carol's heart seemed to hold only bitterness. In Rachel's years at the Temple, she had seen many Carols, deeply religious men and women who were so judgmental and unyielding that all the joy had been snuffed from them.
Rachel was a good biblical scholar, and she understood what had happened to people like Carol. In their theology, everyone was inherently wicked, and only by being constantly on guard against the forces of evil could there be any hope for eternal life. For those like Carol, belief became a source of unending anxiety.
She'd seen those like Fran at the Temple, too—people who shone with an inner light. It never occurred to the Frans of the world to look for wickedness in others. They were too busy dispensing love, compassion, and forgiveness.
Ironically, Dwayne had been frustrated by Christians like Fran. He believed they lacked vigilance in the fight against the devil, and he feared for their souls.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice husky with emotion. "I'm so sorry."
Gabe stepped forward. "Ladies, you'll have to excuse us, but we need to look for Rachel's wallet. She lost it a little earlier." He nodded at them and drew he
r away.
