Page 124 of Shadow

Duke was at the fence line, mending a post and rail that had come loose.

“Morning,” Asher called.

Duke looked up. Nodded. “Morning. You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Bad dreams or guilty conscience?”

Asher laughed. “Wow. Maybe both.”

“Coffee helps with one. Prayer helps with the other.” Duke went back to the fence. “Hand me that hammer?”

Asher grabbed the hammer from the toolbox. Passed it over.

“Hold that rail steady while I nail.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes. The sound of the hammer echoed across the valley.

“Isn’t it hard?” Asher asked. “Working out here by yourself? Living alone?”

Duke looked up at him. “You asking about me or about you?”

“Again, maybe both.”

Duke set down the hammer. Straightened. Looked out at the mountains and the creek and the land spread before them.

“I’m not alone,” he said quietly. “It’s me and the Almighty. Been that way for fifteen years. Ever since my Esther died. Ever since I decided solitude was better than trying to replace what I’d lost.”

“You never remarried?”

“Never wanted to. Esther was it for me. Twenty years of marriage. Three kids. Grandkids now. She left me with plenty.” Duke picked up another nail. “But being alone isn’t the same as being lonely. Not when you’ve got faith.”

Asher held the rail steady. “You really believe that? That God’s enough? That faith fills the gaps?”

“I really believe that.” Duke hammered. Three solid strikes. “You don’t?”

“I don’t know.” The words came harder than Asher expected. “My mom goes to church. Still. Even after everything. After my dad left. After my sister died.” He paused. Adjusted his grip on the rail. “So I guess she still has faith. Still prays. Still talks about God like He’s present and loving. And I—” Asher stopped. “I can’t understand it. Can’t understand how she holds on to someone who let her daughter die. Who let her life fall apart over and over.”

Duke said nothing for a long while, working a new fence pole into the ground. “You think faith means nothing bad happens?”

Asher held another fence pole.

“Isn’t that what it’s supposed to mean? God protecting people who believe in Him?”

“Yes. And no. Hammer.”

Asher handed it over.

Duke grabbed another nail, and Asher held the railing. “Faith means you’re not alone when bad things happen. Means you’ve got someone walking with you through the darkness. Means you’ve got hope, even when everything falls apart.”

He moved to the next section of fence. Tested it. Found it solid.

“Your mama didn’t lose her faith because your sister died. She held on to her faith so she could survive your sister dying. See the difference?”

Hmm. Asher saw it. Didn’t like it, but saw it.

“I’m not sure God accepts me anyway,” he said quietly. “After everything I’ve done. Everything I’ve—” He stopped. “I’ve…made some choices that cost lives. Lied to people I care about. I’m pretty sure God doesn’t forgive that kind of darkness.”