Free Sarah's Promise by Leisha Kelly Page A

understanding, Lord , I prayed. Help her remember that perfect love casts out fear.

7
    Sarah
    Charlie Hunter came to the station about three in the afternoon so Dad could go home. I’d known it was almost that time, but when I saw him march through the door my heart sank into my shoes and I didn’t want to leave. Frank’s got to call! He’s just got to!
    Dad had some work to finish up on Mrs. Patterson’s old Ford, and Charlie didn’t mind him staying till he got the job done. It was a little relief, even though I knew it wouldn’t take long. I couldn’t concentrate to embroider anymore. I just sat by the telephone. Call , I begged Frank in my head . Oh, please. Be able to call.
    I stared at the map of Illinois pinned on the service station wall. Mentally, I’d traced Frank’s route across it several times today. How far had he gotten? Where could he be? A thousand jumbled thoughts raced through me, a hundred explanations, almost all of them bad. One painful understanding just wouldn’t leave me alone. He would have called already, if he could have.
    I could feel the awful pinch of dread deep inside. I tried to push it away, but I wasn’t sure I could. Everything about this hurt right now, my heart most of all.
    Peace.
    Just one word. But it rolled inside me along with the words of that familiar hymn. Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine! Oh, what a foretaste of glory divine! Heir of salvation, purchase of God, born of his Spirit, washed in his blood.
    I didn’t stop and figure out why that hymn would enliven me just then. But I felt so much better just to let it float over my mind and heart. Frank is still in God’s hands, and that’s the safest place to be. He’s all right. He’s got to be all right.
    I hummed the hymn out loud, needing it to soak even further into me and dispel the gloom of fear with the light of praise. I could trust. I could. That God works all things for good for those that love him. And Frank and I both loved him. We were “born of his Spirit, washed in his blood.” And that made us safe. Blessed. Eternally. No matter what happened. I could rejoice for that, and believe that everything would be all right.
    “This is my story, this is my song, praising my Savior all the day long . . .”
    I sang the chorus softly to myself while my heart thundered seeing Dad wipe off his hands. He was ready to leave. But I didn’t want to go. Not yet.
    In just a minute, Dad was getting his coat and bringing me mine. That choked feeling of dread tried to come back, but I pushed it away. This is my story, this is my song . . .
    Dad hugged me. I could see the concern in his eyes, and I knew he’d been thinking about Frank the same as I was, and that he’d loved him even longer than I had. Frank was family already, and had been for years, in Dad’s eyes. “Believe,” he whispered. “He’s all right.”
    We put on our coats. We stepped out into the cold air. Dad took my hand, something he hadn’t done in a long time, and I recited his words again in my mind. Believe. He’s all right.
    I took a deep breath, letting the hymn float over me again.
    And the phone rang. I could barely hear it. I wasn’t sure I really had. But Dad and I both spun around and saw Charlie through the window, rushing to answer. He waved us in, and we ran. It felt like the sun breaking through storm clouds, like a ton of lead being lifted off my heart.

8
    Frank
    I wished I could hug Sarah right over the phone. She cried, she was so relieved to hear from me, and I felt awful bad to have scared her. I told her about the wreck and the snowstorm and the family with practic’ly nothin’, and she said I’d done the right thing bein’ a help.
    “Maybe God had you there for them on purpose,” she admitted, though I knew she wished I was back home.
    It’d be late now before I got to Sam’s, and Sarah and her father were already ready to go home. So I promised to call the service station tomorrow just to leave word that I’d