Chapter 13 #3
“Mom’ll hang you by your toenails for that.” He sat in the chair across from his brother and tried to relax.
Being with family was supposed to help.
Caleb shrugged. “It’s my book, not hers.” But he picked it up, found a bookmark in the jar on the bookshelf beside him, and marked his spot.
Luke took off his hat and tossed it onto the closest shelf, where it spun in a circle before coming to rest beside Dad’s. “Claire’s looking at office space in Billings.”
Caleb set his book aside and laced his fingers together on top of his stomach.
He looked so much like Dad that Luke almost changed the subject.
Too late to go back. His thumb wore a path around a muted brown flower sewn into the chair fabric.
“She mentioned it in the parking lot. Kind of just blurted it out like it was supposed to mean something to me. Or maybe to stop me from talking.”
“What did you say?” Caleb didn’t smirk or even twitch.
“I told her the roads get slick.” His thumb stopped moving. “When it rains.”
Caleb’s expression remained neutral with what appeared to be considerable effort.
“I know.” Luke leaned forward and planted his elbows on his knees, dropping his head into his hands. “I know how ridiculous it sounds.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“That she picks Billings anyway. I’ve never been so torn up about anything in my life.
Not even after Dad’s heart attack when I started managing the ranch.
That was easy compared to this.” He dug deep into the pit of hurt and brought out the worst one of all.
“What if she decides I’m not good enough?
” His jaw worked. “At least this way I don’t have to know that. ”
Caleb stayed quiet long enough that the furnace cycled on and off and a log shifted in the woodstove. Finally, the chair squeaked, and Caleb sighed. “What was it Grandpa said? Something about the best things in life requires you to be brave.”
Luke’s chin came up. “Yeah.”
“He also used to say that the coward and the brave man feel the same fear.” Caleb leaned forward, elbows on his knees in an exact copy of Luke’s posture. “Only difference is what they do next.”
A jolt traveled the length of his spine and spread into his fingers, causing them to tingle. What in the world?
His brother shook his head with a wry twist to his lips. “You did hard things because they mattered, even when they scared you.”
“That’s different.”
“This matters more to you, and the things that matter more are always the ones that scare you down to your boots.” He reached for his book again, crossing his ankle over the opposite knee.
“You’re overlooking one key thing. She submitted a prayer request for discernment about her future.
A woman who has decided what she’s doing with her future doesn’t ask the church to pray about it. ”
Luke went still.
Caleb opened his book and read.
Luke sat with that for a long moment. Outside, the rain started pattering lightly against the windows.
He stood.
“Luke.” Caleb didn’t look up from his book.
“Yeah?”
“Brody Kessler told Tom Martin that what you did at the auction was the most Covenant Creek thing he’d ever seen a Calloway do. Now, go to bed. You’re ruining my vibe.” Caleb turned a page. “Tomorrow’s a new day and all that.”
Luke picked up his hat from the side table and went down the hall, not toward his bedroom, but toward his grandfather’s old desk in the study. He sat in the chair that had held his grandfather and his father before him and pulled a blank sheet of paper from the drawer.
His grandfather had built this ranch by believing that faithfulness mattered more than certainty. The old man had invested in relationships with no guaranteed returns. He was the type of man who lived with his hands open and his trust in God’s provision over his trust in his own plans.
And the ranch had stood. The community had held, and generations had grown up knowing that 4C Ranch valued people.
Luke pressed his palm flat against the desk.
He’d been asking God to change Claire’s mind so he didn’t have to make a decision. But by not making a decision, he also made a decision. He wanted God to arrange the outcome so that the right answer and the safe answer became one.
That wasn’t faith.
Real faith asked for courage regardless of outcome. Real faith says whatever happens, I trust You with it, and I’ll stop managing the results.
Luke’s chest rose and fell. The rain built steadily against the study window, and he sat in his grandfather’s chair on his grandfather’s ranch trying to locate the version of himself that was willing to be brave enough to need something.
He found it, finally, in the memory of a calf that had refused to stop living despite every reason to quit. In a parking lot where Claire’s keys had come out of her pocket because he’d given her nothing to wait for. In a prayer chain request from a woman asking God to show her where she belonged.
By the time he stood to turn off the desk lamp and walk to bed, he hadn’t found a resolution, but he had peace.
He was going to ask her.