Free A Step of Faith by Richard Paul Evans Page B

bed without a headboard.
    “Sorry it’s not the Ritz, but it’s definitely a notch up from the shed you requested.”
    “It’s great. Thank you.”
    “The bathroom’s at the end of the hall. If you need anything, just holler. My wife’s in Fort Wayne visiting her sister, so you don’t have to worry about running into anyone.”
    “Thank you for everything,” I said. “Good night.”
    “Night, my friend.” He shut my door and I listened to his footsteps disappear down the hall.
    I was still hungry, so I ate an apple, a Pop-Tart, nuts and some jerky. Then I turned down the bed, undressed and turned off the lights. As I lay in bed, I thought about what the pastor had said about miracles. Did they still happen today? Had they ever? I hadn’t seen miracles in my life, but perhaps it was my own fault. I certainly wasn’t looking or asking for them.
    No, that’s not true. I had asked for miracles before. I had prayed as sincerely as a man could for McKale’s life to be spared.
    I rolled over and went to sleep.

CHAPTER
Sixteen
Everyone has suffered more than you know.
Alan Christoffersen’s diary

The next morning I lay in bed taking stock of myself. My body was sore all over from my first full day back walking, but especially my feet, ankles and calves. In spite of my workouts in Pasadena, I felt as if I’d pushed too hard. Thankfully my headache was gone. My head itched a little along the line of my incision and I ran a finger down the scar. Even though my hair had grown long enough to partially conceal it, the skin around it was still raised and numb.
    There was a light knock at my door.
    “Come in,” I said.
    The door opened just enough for the pastor to look in. “Sorry to wake you.”
    “I was just lying here,” I said.
    “I’m making breakfast. How do you like your eggs?”
    “I’m not picky. However the spirit moves you.”
    He laughed. “All right, divinely inspired eggs. I’m still making biscuits, so you’ve got twenty minutes or so. Help yourself to the shower.”
    After he left, I took some clean clothes and a razor from my pack,then went into the bathroom. A hot shower was an unexpected treat, and I stood beneath the spray for at least ten minutes, shaving in there as well. Then I dressed and went into the kitchen. Pastor Tim already had breakfast on the table.
    “Sorry I took so long,” I said.
    “Not at all. I love a long hot shower.” He lifted the lid off a pan, exposing a mound of scrambled eggs and patty sausage. “Help yourself. The sausage has a little kick to it.”
    I loaded up my plate, then took a couple biscuits. Pastor Tim did the same. As I lifted my fork to eat, he said, “Would you join me in prayer?”
    I set down my fork. “Of course.”
    He bowed his head. “Dear Lord, we are grateful for our many blessings. We are grateful for our meeting and ask a blessing to be upon Alan. Please keep him safe on his journey. We ask Thee to bless this food to our good and us to Thy service, Amen.”
    “Amen,” I said.
    “Here’s some Tabasco sauce for your eggs if you’re so inclined,” he said, pushing the bottle toward me. Then he tore open his biscuit, layering sausage and eggs inside. “I love a breakfast sandwich.” He looked at me. “After we parted last night, I realized that I hadn’t asked you where you’re going.”
    “I’m walking to Key West,” I said.
    “Ah, beautiful Key West. That’s quite a ways. Where did you begin your journey?”
    “Seattle.”
    “My, that is a journey. What’s in Key West?”
    “It was the farthest distance I could walk from Seattle.”
    His eyes narrowed with interest. “Then the real question is, what’s in Seattle?”
    “Memories,” I said.
    He nodded slowly. “Good ones or bad ones?”
    “Both. My wife was killed in a horse-riding accident. I lost her, my home, and my job. I just had to get away.”
    “I understand,” he said. “I lost my first wife. Not in an accident, though. She left me.”
    “I’m