Neal Barrett Jr. by Dawn's Uncertain Light

across the table and grasped Howie’s hand. “You have a destiny to meet, I’ll tell you that. The Lord has touched you and made you one of His own.”
    “Well, now—I sure don’t know about that.” Howie shifted restlessly in his chair, wishing he were somewhere else. The preacher looked as if he might start to cry, and Howie felt awful just sitting there listening to crazy talk about God and shining lights.
    “It’s the truth,” Jones said. He looked fiercely at Howie. “I know what you’re thinking; I can see Satan trying to close your mind right now. Oh, surely I can. But he won’t do it, Cory. God’s set His hand on you, and when He does, why, He never lets go.”
    Howie started to answer, but the words died some-where on the way. He looked past Jones and saw the girl coming toward him across the room. He saw thick yellow hair the color of butter, tumbling down her shoulders, saw the striking blue eyes that seemed to look right through him, the high cheeks and full red lips, and the way the gown clung to her form.
    Howie felt weak all over. He couldn’t look anywhere else. It struck him then that Jones was maybe right. Maybe Satan wanted to bring him down. If he did, this is who he’d send to do the job. He wouldn’t have a chance to get away, and wouldn’t even want to try.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    T he girl kept smiling, looking right at him. He suddenly realized she wasn’t passing by. She was coming right to his table! Howie’s heart nearly stopped. He wanted to speak, but couldn’t think of anything to say.
    Then the girl leaned down and pecked Ritcher Jones on the cheek.
    Howie blinked. He sure hadn’t expected that.
    Jones looked up in surprise. A broad grin creased his features. “Sister Lorene! God be praised!” He stood and took her hands, held her out from him, and looked her up and down. “My, it’s been some time. And you’re still as pretty as a picture. Come now, sit down here, girl. Tell me how you’ve been.”
    The girl blushed shyly and slipped into a chair. Jones looked at Howie, apparently puzzled to find him there.
    “Good heavens, now where are my manners?” The preacher laughed at himself. “Sister Lorene, this is Cory. A fine traveling companion and a friend.”
    “I’m pleased, Lorene said gently.
    “Yes, ma’am,” Howie said, trying to find his tongue. “I’m—I’m pleased, too.”
    Howie bounced up quickly, then sat down at once. He realized how foolish he looked, but the girl simply smiled, setting him at ease. Lord, that voice! It sounded like someone pouring Sister Lorene? Howie was a lot more interested in the Light than he’d been a few moments before.
    “We were so concerned about you,” Lorene said. She touched a hand to her throat and sighed. “You were gone so long, Brother Jones. I’m afraid we feared for the worst.”
    “Now God watches over His children,” Jones chided. “You know that’s so.” He winked broadly at Howie. “Though I will say the journey had its moments. Cory here will vouch for that.”
    “Yes, sir.” Howie cleared his throat. “You could sure say it did.”
    Lorene showed him a curious smile, then turned at once to Jones. She had news for the preacher, word about people that Howie didn’t know. Brother Earnest and Sister Amelia had a small chapel going in Alabama Port. It seemed to be doing rather well, considering the rowdy nature of the local townsfolk. Lorene had trained Brother Lew to handle local administrative matters for High Sequoia. There was rather bad news concerning Brother Emil. He had been brutally attacked on the waterfront by a drunken band, felled while doing the Lord’s work. His injuries were quite serious, and Lorene had sent him back to California the week before.
    Ritcher Jones’s face clouded at the news. “Such is the fate of those who love the Lord, I greatly fear. A fine boy, too. I shall remember him in my prayers.”
    Howie couldn’t take his eye off Lorene. All the time the pair talked he