A Step Of Faith Part 27

"Do you want to watch TV?" I asked.

"Whatever you want," she replied.

"I was asking for you. I'm going to take a shower and get into some dry clothes."

"Oh. Sure," she said.

"Do you need to use the bathroom first?" I asked.

"No. I'm good."

I took some clean clothes out of my pack, then tossed Paige the TV remote and went inside the bathroom. I stayed in the hot water until the bathroom mirror was dripping with condensation. When I came back out, Paige was watching the weather on a local station.

"How is it?" I asked.

"It's looking better." She smiled at me. "You look like you feel a lot better."

"Much," I said. "Any news on the storm?"

"It looks like the tornadoes are gone. It's supposed to clear up by morning."

"I'm glad to hear that."

As I sat down on the bed, she turned off the television. "Tell me about your walk," she said.

"What do you want to know?"

"What states have you been through?"

"I started in Was.h.i.+ngton, walked through Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, South Dakota, then Iowa, Nebraska, Missouri and here I am. Six more states to go."

"You've walked nonstop?"

"Mostly. I stopped twice, but not by choice. Once was in Spokane when I was mugged."

She blanched. "You were mugged?"

"A gang attacked me. I was stabbed three times."

She stared at me with wide eyes. "Really?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Want to see the scars?"

She nodded and I lifted my s.h.i.+rt.

She gasped. "Oh, my."

"Another inch higher and I probably wouldn't be here."

"Wow," she said. "I didn't realize Spokane was such a tough place."

I laughed. "It's not. But there's crime everywhere and when you're on the street you're at risk. Gangs, tornadoes ... redheads."

She smiled. "If it wasn't for a redhead, you might still be under that bridge. Like a troll."

I laughed. "I'm in your debt."

"It's my pleasure. I almost didn't see you. I think I was inspired."

"What do you mean?"

"Every morning when I pray, I ask G.o.d to let me help one of His children. As I was approaching the underpa.s.s, I had a strong feeling that I needed to slow down. When I looked up, there you were."

"You pray for that every day?" I asked.

"Almost," she said. "It's amazing the opportunities that have come to me since I started doing that. Most of the time it's someone I'm working with in hospice. Sometimes I'll get these flashes of insight into their lives."

"You should be sainted."

"I was thinking the exact same thing," she laughed, holding her hands open around her face. "St. Paige."

I couldn't help but think how cute she looked.

"You said you stopped twice on your walk."

"The second time was in St. Louis. I found out I had a brain tumor after I pa.s.sed out just outside the city."

"Is that why you have that scar?" she asked, looking at my head.

I nodded. "I was taken to the hospital in St. Louis, then ended up flying home to Pasadena for treatment."

"I thought you said you lived in Seattle."

"I did," I said. "But I left when my wife died."

She frowned. "I'm so sorry. Was she ill?"

"No. She died from complications after a horse-riding accident."

"I'm so sorry," she said again. "Does that have something to do with why you're walking?"

"It's the reason I'm walking."

She shook her head slowly. "It's hard losing a loved one."

"You experience it all the time," I said.

"No, I see death," she said softly. "But it's not the same as losing family."