Daniel plowed on, into the woods and to the springhouse. There he stopped only a second. It was not far enough. He had to keep moving, to evade the barrage of emotions that threatened to consume him whole. Turning left, he started up the hillside as large fat drops of water started to fall from the sky. The trees provided cover, though, and only an occasional drop landed onhis head and shoulders at first. So he charged farther on, Scamper still on his heels.
The rain increased in strength and force, as did the pain within his chest. The pain of losing their child before they had ever seen its precious face, the pain of a life lost before it had even begun. The pain of seeing his wife so distraught while he remained helpless to do anything about it. The pain of having no one. Absolutely no one he could turn to.
“Why, God?” The outraged cry tore from his lips after being confined for far too long, and he stopped and turned his face to the heavens as rain fell down upon him.
For over a month, he had held in his hurt and anger as he put his wife first. But that had backfired. And now, much as it was for Keturah, the rage could be contained no longer. Daniel kicked a stone near his foot, sending it skittering into the nearby creek. He kicked another and another. Then he lifted a large muddied rock and chucked it as far as he could. A cry tore from his lips as he did so. He latched onto the damp leaves of a fern and tugged. But instead of ripping from the ground, the plant remained firmly in place while Daniel slipped and fell onto his rear. He buried his face in his hands and let the tears fall.
Finally, they came in great waves like the rain that drenched his clothes. His body heaved, and he struggled for breath between sobs. Why did they have to losetheir sweet child? What good could possibly come from this? How could this be God’s plan?
Daniel cried. He cried for his own loss and his wife’s. He cried for the rift that had formed between them. He cried for the deep loneliness that threatened to devour him. How could they ever go on like this? At that moment, Daniel was not sure how he would ever tear himself from that spot of earth and go on living, as though nothing had happened. As if there was not a gaping hole in his heart.
But slowly, his tears slowed, and the unbearable pain within him waned. As thunder boomed overhead, Daniel ran his hand through wet hair and shivered. Scamper pushed a damp nose under his hand and peered up at him with eyes filled with unconditional love and concern. The corner of Daniel’s mouth lifted the slightest bit. No matter how alone he felt, he was never truly alone. God had brought him, Scamper, and Keturah together. Though Daniel would never understand why they must be forced to endure such a trial, they were still a family. God had a plan for them, and He would see it through. They need only be faithful.
“Lord, I apologize. I have prayed over and over for You to help my wife, to ease her pain. But I neglected to pray for myself. Please, Lord, help me to come to terms with our loss, to find some way to move forward. Help our family to move forward—together. Help us see the blessings that remain, without focusing solely on whatwas lost. Help us know You are still with us, even in the midst of our turmoil, and that You will lead us through.”
Somehow, God would do just that. He always honored His promises.
Daniel let out a breath as he stood. He needed to take the first step forward and return to his wife. Rain fell harder as he headed toward the cabin, the wind driving it against him. He should have headed back at the first drizzle. Scamper stuck closer to his side as they traversed the soggy earth. Over the sound of rain and between thunder claps, there came another noise. Daniel stopped and gazed down the hill at the creek that fed the springhouse.
Water rolled and tumbled past in what now resembled a river. Daniel swallowed. How would they return home? Should he and Scamper seek shelter until the weather passed? Another shiver passed through Daniel. No, he was soaked through and needed a warm fire before darkness fell. Plus, Keturah would worry.
With a frown, Daniel moved closer. He glanced up and down the visible length of rushing water for a way to cross. Several feet upriver was a large boulder with a tree beside it. The lowest branch appeared to stretch to the other side of the swollen creek. With the strength he had gained from months of manual labor, surely, he could use the branch to cross. From the other side, he could figure a way to help the dog. He went to the treeand climbed up onto the boulder. Daniel jumped up and gripped the branch, the rough bark tearing at his hands.
He attempted to swing his legs up so that he could shimmy down the length of the branch, but his feet missed. His left hand slipped, and a growl rose from his chest as he dug his fingertips into the wood. Below him, Scamper let out a bark.
Daniel changed strategy, swinging his body forward to gain momentum, and he moved his left hand farther along the branch. In this manner, he proceeded along its length, one hand after the other. Halfway across, a crack sounded above the rain, and the branch dipped lower. No. Daniel’s eyes widened and his chest heaved. He had to continue on—there was no other way.
He pulled his right hand free and reached forward, but another crack met his ears. The branch jerked, and his fingers found no purchase. Suddenly, he was falling.
Daniel gasped before the water claimed him again. It propelled him with extraordinary force, swirling all around him and filling his senses. He fought for the surface, but he could not tell up from down. Something knocked him in the back of the head, and he gasped. His eyes, nose, and throat burned. Asdid his lungs.
He thought he might drown, but finally, he resurfaced.
Daniel sputtered, then sucked in as large a breath as he could. It was no use, though, without being able to expel the water from his body first. Instead of taking in precious air, he choked and was pulled back under. Daniel fought the current. Was this how he was to die?
No, it could not be. He could not allow Keturah to lose him as well as their unborn child. How could any soul survive that?
Keturah paced back and forth in front of the hearth as thunder caused the cabin to shudder. Was this really happening again? Her hands tightened into fists, her nails biting into her palms, as memories of the night her father died flooded back. How the rain had pounded against the cabin in thick, unrelenting sheets before the tornado had come. He had only gone to the barn to ensure all was secure and the animals safe.
But now… she had not the faintest idea where Daniel was. And it seemed history would repeat itself as the storm outside raged with a fury like she had never known. Breathing became difficult, as though air refused to enter her lungs. Keturah’s throat burned as she considered the harsh words she had spoken to Daniel. She put her hand to her neck, but there was no relief from the sting that started in her throat and squeezed up, into her eyes. She blinked as tears blurred her vision.
How could she have been so terrible to the man who had shown her only love and grace? While Keturah had wallowed in her own grief, without thought to her husband’s pain, he had remained steadfast and caring. Daniel had only been attempting to bring a smile to her face, and she had behaved in a vile manner. Now he was out in the storm. Alone, and possibly lost, because of her.
Letting out a groan, Keturah spun toward the door. She plucked her cloak from its hook and threw open the door to the tempest outside. Her chest constricted. She had to find Daniel, no matter what. After wrapping her cloak around her shoulders, she moved out into the pelting rain, blinking past the water that ran over her face. She glanced around. Which direction would Daniel have gone?
At that moment, Scamper burst through the trees, barking furiously as he rushed toward her. He ran in a wild circle around her before coming to a stop.
“What is it, boy?”
Scamper continued barking, glancing between her and the woods. When she stepped toward him, the dog took off back into the forest. Lifting her skirts, Keturah ran after the animal with blind faith, praying all the while that he was leading her toward Daniel.
Scamper darted in and out between trees,completely focused on his destination. Keturah sloshed over the sodden earth as she followed. Twigs snapped underfoot as she maneuvered over roots and under a low-hanging branch dripping with water. Mud splattered over her petticoats, and Scamper’s white fur had turned mostly brown, but they forged ahead. No amount of mire or muck would stop her from reaching her husband.
Please, Lord, allow Scamper to lead me to him. An’ please let all be well when I find him. Please dinnae let me lose him.
Tears mixed with the rain flowing over her cheeks, and a lump formed in her throat. Scamper leapt over a downed tree, claimed by the storm, and Keturah scrambled over. “Scamper, wait,” she called as she pulled her petticoat free of the rough bark and attempted to catch up with the dog. Clearly impatient, he glanced back and forth as he paused only a moment before continuing on.
Above the storm, Keturah became aware of a faint roar in the background. She stopped and placed a hand on the tall ash tree to her right as her heart began to race.Please, nay.Her breaths became ragged as she listened for the sound to grow. But it remained steady.
