The Visitor by Lori Wick Page A

leaned toward his younger friend.
    “I’m glad you brought that so I could see it, Henry, but I have to tell you that I’ve asked you here today for a different reason.”
    “All right.”
    “We’re very comfortable talking about maps and such, but it has occurred to me that in all this time we’ve never spoken of spiritual things.”
    “No, I guess we haven’t.”
    “Why is that, do you suppose?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Well, I for one regret that. I’ve never asked you about some of the most important things in your life.”
    “Such as?”
    “Such as your parents, and what they believed, and how it’s affected you.”
    Henry stared at him for a moment.
    “If you don’t mind my asking, Walker, what brought this on?”
    “A number of things, the first of which is that I’ve heard you’re very quiet. You’re not quiet with me, so it makes me wonder how you live the rest of your life. Are you unusually talkative with me, or unusually silent with others?”
    “The latter, I would have to say.”
    “Why is that?”
    “As my sister says, I don’t need words to live.”
    “But how do you share your faith? How do you show people the joy Christ brings?”
    Henry began to look uncomfortable, but at the same time he was very humbled by the calm caring he saw in James Walker. Given a choice, he would have avoided this subject like the blight, but the man’s voice and manner caused him to listen carefully and to think about his life.
    “I try very hard to be an example in my dealings, Walker,” Henry offered. “I’m careful to be fair and honest in town and with workers who come to Newcomb Park. And certainly with the staff.”
    “I’m glad to hear it, Steele,” Walker said calmly, but he was done with tact. “But if your own sisters doubt your salvation, something is wrong.”
    These words shook Henry. He took a moment to ask, “Has Cassie come to you?”
    “Yes. Did she tell you?”
    “No, but when I noticed that a coach was gone, my man told me she’d come here.”
    “She cares desperately for you, Henry. I hope there won’t be any hard feelings against her.”
    “Against Cassandra? Never. She’s the sweetest woman who ever walked the face of the earth. She seeks my company out, even though I have nothing to say.”
    The thought—Henry’s own words—shook him even more.
    Coming to his feet, Henry went to the window. He was not a man of great outward passion. It was true that he didn’t need conversation to be content, but that didn’t mean he could follow his heart.
    “What caused her to come exactly?”
    “She’s confused by you. She said you value things above people.”
    Henry turned from the window.
    “In truth, I don’t, but since I never share my thoughts, how much I love and pray for my sisters and Edward, they never know.”
    Walker remained quiet. He had decided to speak to Henry, assuming he was a believer, not knowing it would open the floodgates. In the next three hours Walker learned how Henry had come to Christ at his father’s knee, Charlotte, just two years younger, right beside him.
    He learned of the way he’d met with Pastor Greville in Bath for personal Bible study but now did all of his studying alone. For long stretches Henry talked nonstop, telling Walker of the truths he’d learned from Scripture and the way God had changed his heart in many areas.
    “But you never tell any of this to your siblings?”
    “No, I guess I don’t. I’m a kind person, generous even, and not easily angered. I assumed that they understood the reason I was able to be such a man.”
    “What would Cassandra say if she was to hear all of that?”
    Henry knew in an instant.
    “She would ask me why I never inquire about her day or her shopping trips. She would ask how we can go for our morning rides and not say two words to each other.”
    “So she doesn’t speak either?”
    “She’s only doing that for me.”
    Walker smiled at Henry Steele.
    “Henry, you’re one of my