The Broken Window Read Online Free PDF Page A

“You’re able to minister to people. Could you have gotten rid of my fever?”
    Abner inclined his head. “That’s certainly within my realm of experience; however, such things aren’t done according to my will.”
    “So you
could,
but you don’t unless God tells you to?”
    “I can do no more or less than what I am bidden.”
    Padgett quietly pointed out, “You already told her that, sir.”
    “Did I?”
    “Yes, I remember,” Prissie murmured. “I suppose I just didn’t understand what you meant the first time.”
    With a small smile, Abner said, “Then you have benefited from the repetition. Many do.”
    The bell over the door jangled again, and Padgett remarked, “We should be getting back, sir.”
    Prissie glanced at the kitchen door, surprised that Koji hadn’t put in an appearance yet. He had to know his teammates were here. “Will I see you again soon?” she asked, oddly reluctant to let them go.
    “I don’t have any way of knowing,” Abner replied candidly. “But if I were to guess, I’d say yes. Our paths are likely to cross again soon. If not in winter, then certainly in spring.”
    “Oh? Why then?”
    Standing, Padgett explained, “Your class is one of those scheduled to visit the park in April.”
    “Which part?” Prissie asked curiously.
    “The orienteering trails.”
    “Again?” With a shake of her head, she waved a hand. “I’ve been on those trails three or four times before!”
    Abner’s gaze was keen as he replied, “As you have already acknowledged, there is often a benefit to repetition.”

3
THE UGLY
WHISPERS
    S he’s utterly clueless,” Marcus grumbled. “And childish.”
    Harken’s deep chuckle rolled through the empty shop. “The faith of a child is precious in the sight of God.”
    The Protector shook his head incredulously. “This one has the faith of Thomas.”
    With a widening smile, the Messenger countered, “Then let her see, let her touch, and let her faith be strengthened.”
    Prissie knew she must be dreaming, for she often dreamed of the hayloft in the barn. It was a recurring nightmare grounded in a frightening fall during her early childhood. Her fear of heights lingered, and she automatically checked to see how close to the edge she was standing. But several things had changed from the usual pattern. For one, it was wintertime, although she wasn’t cold, even with bare feet.Also, it was nighttime. This dream had always taken place on a spring day, with sunlight streaming through cracks and between rafters. Turning to check the window near the peak of the roof, Prissie spied another major difference. She wasn’t alone.
    Padgett’s raiment shone softly in the darkness as he worked his way across bales of straw on his hands and knees. He was barefoot too, and his long, black hair dragged on the ground as he shuffled along. For the life of her, Prissie couldn’t figure out what he was doing, but the longer she watched, the more frightened she grew. His expression was solemn as he reached out to cup something that wasn’t there, then pressed his hands firmly in midair. When he murmured something softly to no one, she finally whispered, “Padgett?”
    “Prissie,” he answered, sparing her a glance. “What brings you here?”
    She blinked in confusion and dared to speak a little louder. “Shouldn’t I be asking
you
that? This is
our
barn.”
    “I know, and I’m grateful for the haven it’s become,” he calmly replied. Shifting further along the row of bales, he distractedly asked, “How much can you see?”
    “Only you. What are you doing?”
    “Ministering to those in need.”
    So that was it. Someone else
was
here, someone she couldn’t see. If that person needed a Caretaker’s attention, it could only mean one thing. “Someone’s hurt?”
    “Yes.”
    Hugging herself, she squinted hard into the dimness, but it was no use. “Why can’t I see what’s happening?” she complained.
    He turned inquiringly. “Do you wish to