Child of Promise by Kathleen Morgan Page A

the reins, Noah halted the buggy. He wrapped the lines around the brake arm, then turned in the seat to face her.
    “What makes you think my faith is particularly strong right now?”
    Beth stared at him. “You’re still a priest, aren’t you? You’re still here, serving your congregation, going about your work every day.”
    He smiled sadly. “Sometimes you go on in spite of yourself. Because people need you. Because you hope with all your might that sooner or later the darkness will lift and the Lord will be there right where He has always been all along. When you lose faith, you go on out of sheer, stubborn determination and a lot of hope.”
    “If God has deserted you, one of His most faithful servants,” Beth said grimly, “then He’s not a God I care to serve.”
    “Ah, Beth, I don’t really think God’s deserted me.”
    Noah scooted close and took her hands. He looked into her eyes, and Beth saw his anguish—and his conviction.
    “Well, leastwise not in my mind anyway,” he admitted. “In my heart, though . . .” He shook his head with a savage intensity. “It doesn’t matter. Great and holy feelings are wonderful gifts from God, but there are still times when you just have to hang on with all your might. And that’s what I’m doing—holding on with all my might and putting my trust in the Lord.”
    She could see the pain, the torment Noah was in. But she could see his courage, too. His sheer, stubborn trust and love for a God who she wasn’t so sure could ever be deserving of him.
    “You’ve held on for two years like this, haven’t you?” Beth released a slow, deep breath. “I admire that in you, Noah. I truly do.”
    “And your admiration’s deeply appreciated,” he said with a wry chuckle. “It’s been a lonely road, to be sure. It’s not like I can share this with most people. Folk don’t like to know their pastor’s in such dire straits.”
    “Well, they won’t be hearing it from me.” Beth cocked her head. “Have you thought about marrying again? That might help in so many ways. You’d have someone to share your doubts and fears with. You’d have someone to help you with Emily, be a mother to her, and . . . well, you’d have a wife,” she finished lamely.
    Noah looked away. “No. I don’t want to remarry.”
    She opened her mouth to ask him why, then clamped it shut. She had pried enough.
    “You’ll accept friendship, though, won’t you? Because if you will, I’d like to offer you mine,” Beth said, wondering even as she did if, when it came to Noah Starr, friendship in itself wasn’t a pitfall-ridden country.
    Noah turned back then, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Of course I’ll accept friendship, especially yours. Nothing would give me greater pleasure.”
    For a long moment, silence fell between them, and they sat there, staring into each other’s eyes. And, as they sat there, a fierce, sweet joy warred with a growing uncertainty in Beth. It—this—was yet more uncharted territory. She must not forget he had hurt her before and could well do so again. To be Noah’s friend, his confidante, perhaps even his special solace when there was none to be found elsewhere was taking a big chance.
    As they remained there, though, something changed between them. The light in Noah’s eyes flared; his grip on her hands tightened. Beth’s heart commenced a rapid beating.
    Just then, the horse’s head flew up. The animal gave a snort of surprise and lurched forward.
    Noah released Beth’s hands and grabbed at the reins. Before the horse could take two steps, he had the animal back under control. He pulled it to a halt.
    “Well, so much for my problems,” he said, grinning at her. “Anything you’d care to share about yours?”
    Her hands still gripping the carriage for support, Beth stared back. “Me? No, not really. After hearing what you had to say, I’m thinking my problems aren’t all that serious.” She shrugged surprised at the sudden wave