Danny’s words were like flashes of lightning in Jacob's mind, illuminating memories he’d buried deep inside. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the image of his mother, pale and thin, lying sick and dying in the last home he’d known, saying the same kind of words, fervent urgency brightening her eyes for the last time.I have to leave you, Jacob. You can’t imagine how much I love you and how proud I am of the man I know you will become. Follow the Lord, my sweet boy. He will never leave you. Even when life is so terrible you can hardly bear it, He is right there beside you. Never forget.Jacob clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring, his mother’s soft voice reverberating in his mind.Never forget.
“You all right, Munroe?” Andrew eyed him.
“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He looked over at Danny’s concerned face and attempted to keep his voice light. “You sound like a preacher, Danny.”
Danny snorted. “Just don’t tell Pa, else he’ll cart me off to seminary.”
Jacob smiled tightly. “So no preachin’ for you?”
“Naw, Ian’s the preacher. I follow the Lord. I just prefer to do it from the back of a horse.”
Silence descended, their eyes once again locked onto Ian’s small figure on the edge of the riverbank. Anxiety crept back into the spaces between the raindrops. His mother’s voice echoed again and again in his mind.Never forget.Jacob shook his head, trying to focus. Had the others taken this long to cross? It seemed an age since the wagon had disappeared down into the valley.
Ian turned to them waving, giving a two-handed thumbs up before urging his mount into a jog. Relief washed over Jacob. They'd made it. Everything was gonna be all right.
The number of wagons on this side of the river slowly dwindled until it was finally time to get the herd across. The young men eased the cattle into motion. Andrew dropped out of sight down the bank, and Jacob and the McGraths let the animals find their own footing, taking their time, staying calm. One spooked steer could mean disaster. The cattle hesitated and then stepped out into the river, water frothing at their legs. Jacob gave Kip his head to pick his way down the slick slope, churned as it was from the passage of the entire train. At least it had finally stopped raining. Andrew was a third of the way across, the water up to his stirrups, by the time Jacob ventured out into the river. He immediately felt Kip’s tension as he braced against the current, slowly working his way out into the river, water tugging mercilessly at his legs.
He gave Kip freedom to choose his footing, but Jacob’s muscles were taut, charged to react. The current was so strong.Never forget.He let the words wash over him, the whispered chant sinking deep inside until it was a part of him, like the blood running quick through his veins. He searched the water for debris that might cause Kip to stumble. He glanced up, seeing Andrew just climbing up the opposite bank, much further downstream than he would’ve anticipated. Ian’s horse swam now, struggling to move forward. The cattle lunged into the deepest section of the river with their noses high. Danny’s mount had stopped, head shaking, nickering nervously, water frothing up against his side and over his withers. Danny attempted to calm him, gently trying to urge him forward, but his gelding balked, not wanting to lose his last sure footing.
A deep, ominous, creaking sound made Jacob look upstream, and he stared into the tangled roots of a massive torn-up tree. A wave of terror washed through him. His heart stopped. Sounds faded. Time seemed to slow. Fear rendered everything in sickening clarity. The whites of the cattle’s eyes. The filthy, churning water. The great maw of roots like the black gates of hell as the full weight of the river drove the behemoth hurtling toward them.
Never forget.
A primal yell tore from his throat. “Danny, watch out!”
Danny’s head jerked around. The look of terror on his face seared onto Jacob’s mind like the afterimage of a lightning strike. He watched helplessly as the massive trunk connected with flesh in a sickening thud. The horse screamed. Danny disappeared under the water.
“Danny!” he cried. Jacob booted Kip into the raging water, pointing his nose downstream. Panic rose in his throat. The seconds seemed endless. Kip swam furiously beneath him.Never forget.The river curved sharply to the east, the current drawing Jacob closer to the far side. Kip began to tire. The great tree had rammed against the far bank, caught in a jumble of boulders. It began to work itself free.Never forget.Kip found footing again and lunged forward, sides heaving. Jacob hissed and slapped the reins, digging in his heels, squeezing out every ounce of speed Kip could muster. He could just see Danny’s hand above the water, coat sleeve caught on a broken limb.
They came to a furious, splashing halt beside the tree, and Jacob launched himself down into the water. He clambered around the leviathan, breath coming in painful gasps, eyes locked on that limp hand.No, no, no, no, no! Danny was pinned between the trunk and a boulder, angry water foaming around him. Was he breathing?
Jacob grabbed Danny’s arm and pulled, muscles straining. His feet slipped on the slick rocks of the riverbed and he cursed. The tree shifted under the weight of the current. Jacob frantically switched tactics, hisback against the trunk, boots planted on the side of the boulder, and he heaved with everything he had, the tendons in his neck popping, a roar of pain and fear and rage ripping from his chest, and with a great groaning creak, the monolith surged back into the course of the river, the current sucking it into the dark water.
Jacob lurched forward and barely managed to grab Danny’s jacket before he was pulled back under. He hooked his hands under his limp arms and struggled through the rock-strewn shallows toward the shore. Ian appeared beside him, grabbing Danny’s legs, the same fear Jacob felt carved on his face. Together they heaved him up onto the muddy bank.
“Danny? Danny, can you hear me?” Ian said, ripping open Danny’s shirt and pressing an ear to his chest. He wasn’t breathing. Danny’s face was white, his lips blue. Bright red blood fanned down his face from a deep gash on his forehead. “Wake up, Danny.” Ian slapped his brother’s cold face and shook his shoulders. “You listen to me and you wake up now, all right?” Ian’s breath came short and quick, an edge of uncontrollable terror in his voice. “You gotta wake up, Danny. Please, Danny. Wake up!” He pounded on his brother’s chest, sobbing. “Wake up! Wake up, Danny, please! Please!”
Jacob put a hand on Ian’s shoulder, barely able to speak past the constriction in his throat. “He’s gone, Ian.”
“No!” Ian wrenched his shoulder away, pulling Danny’s limp form into his arms. “No, he can’t be gone. He can’t be gone!” He rocked his brother's body, despairing sobs wracking his shoulders. Jacob knelt in the cold mud beside him, watching numbly as the blood on Danny’s face dried to a rusty brown.
A shout brought Jacob’s head up. Aaron appeared at the top of the bank, clambering down as fast as he could. The fear etched on his face knifed through Jacob’s heart.
“Danny?” Aaron choked out, all the weight of a father’s love in that one word.
Jacob slowly shook his head.
“My boy,” Aaron whispered hoarsely, his voice ravaged by grief and tender with love. “My sweet Danny.” The broad man crumpled to his knees and reached out a trembling hand to lay it on Danny’s wet, still hair. A groan came from deep inside him. He gently pulled his son’s body into his arms, cradling him like a baby, great tears slipping down his cheeks to disappear into his beard. He turned his agonized face to the sky and wept.
They buried Danny overlooking the valley, with stones from the riverbed covering his grave. The whole train gathered to pay their respects. Ian led the service. Aaron stood stalwart, holding his wife as she wept into his shoulder. Kate was there beside them, so still she could have been a statue but for the tears rolling down her face. Jacob’s chest constricted. He wanted to reach out to her, to hold her, to carry her through her pain, but he could only stand there powerless, watching her valiantly trying to keep herself together. And he was the one responsible for her grief. If only he hadn’t gone to help with the herd, maybe Danny would’ve been at the back. If only he had got to him sooner, done more to try to save him. Jacob clenched his jaw against the torment.
Ian was praying. “Lord, you say that you weep with those who weep. Well, we’re weepin’ now.” His voice caught. He swallowed. “Carry us through our grief, Lord. Let us come to you in our sorrow, to the One who knows every sufferin’. And thank you, Jesus, that Danny’s with you now, probably causin’ all sorts of mischief. Tell him we’ll see him on the other side.” Ian said amen with a surety and peace that stunned Jacob. How? How could he have peace at a time like this? All Jacob felt was anger. Anger at Proctor for pushing the pace so hard, at God for taking Danny away, but most of all, anger at himself for failing to save him.
Kate stepped up beside her brother and raised her fiddle, tucking it gently under her chin. She took a long, slow breath and, closing her eyes, began to play. The warm strains of the melody carried all the love she had for her brother and all the sorrow of losing him. Jacob fought against his own grief, determined to be strong for her sake, even as the words of the hymn burned into his heart from the recesses of his memories.I once was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see.
Kate faltered. She bit her lip, eyes clenched shut, chin quivering. He wished he could just reach out and hold her. What could he do? The words of the next verse flashed in his mind, and he knew. Taking a deep breath, he began to sing.
Kate stopped playing and bowed her head. He sang out stronger, as if his voice could somehow hold her up, keep her heart from shattering. Beside him, Andrew joined his bass to the hymn, and soon everyone who knew the words sang out, the harmonies mingling with the misting rain.
