Valley of promises, p.26
Valley of Promises, page 26
The snow slid past him, faster and faster. He headed down an embankment.
“Slow him down!” Luke shouted. “You're going too fast!”
Adam pulled on the lines and called, “Whoa.” He didn't know what to say to stop the dog. King kept pulling hard, and the sled continued to pick up speed.
“Slow down!” Luke yelled.
“I'm trying!” Adam pulled hard. King didn't seem to notice. The sled whipped over a mound, nearly tipping over. King skirted a tree, and the sled pulled hard to the right and leaned into the snow. Adam felt a tearing, searing pain in his right knee. His foot wedged between the sled and the runners, dropping him onto his back. His body banged against the snow as it followed the sled down a hill. Suddenly his foot came free, and the sled sailed away without him, King still pulling strong.
Adam didn't move for several minutes. He gulped down air and held his throbbing knee between gloved hands.
Lunging toward him, Luke called, “Adam? Adam, you all right?” He kneeled beside his friend.
Speaking through gritted teeth, Adam said, “My knee, it's bad. I don't know what I did, but I can't move it.” He sucked air between his teeth when he tried to move.
Luke carefully ran his hand down Adam's leg, then gently manipulated the knee.
“Ahh!” Adam yelled. “Stop! Don't touch it!”
“Can you stand?”
“I don't know. I'll try.”
Luke bent down, and Adam threw his left arm over the young man's shoulder. Luke started to rise.
“No! No! Stop! Let me down!” Adam gripped his leg and settled back against the snow. “You'll have to get the sled or go for help. There's no way I can walk out of here.”
Luke searched for King and the sled. They were gone. “It's a long way home without a sled.” He turned and looked in the direction King had gone. “Alex will kill me if anything happens to his dog.”
“Go get the dog. I'll wait. Maybe you can haul me back on the sled.”
“It's real cold out here, Adam. I hate to leave you.”
Adam gazed around. “What choice do we have? Get the dog.”
“I'd feel better if I could make a fire. I didn't bring anything. Did you?”
“No. I hadn't counted on anything like this.” Knowing it was hard for Luke to leave him, but realizing he had no other choice, Adam gentled his voice. “This is my fault, not yours. You need to get the dog before he goes too far.”
“All right. I'll be back as soon as I can.” Luke headed out, following the trail left by King and the sled.
Laurel hung a glistening red ball on the tree. “Mama, shouldn't Luke and Adam be back?” She walked to the window and stared out at the darkness. The wind had picked up and swirled snow against the glass.
Jean rested her hand on Laurel's back. “Your father has gone to get Robert. They'll look for them.”
“But the weather's getting bad. If they go out—”
“Laurel, all this worrying won't help.” She forced a smile. “I'm sure Luke just got caught up in some of Alex's stories and is heading home right now. They'll probably meet each other on the road.”
“I hope you're right.”
Hours passed and still there was no sign of Luke or Adam. Robert and Will returned after several hours of searching.
Will dropped into a chair at the table. “We went to Alex's. He hasn't seen them since this morning. He's sick, so Luke and Adam went without him.”
“They could die out there!” Laurel said. “What are we going to do?”
“Robert and I came back to get warmed up. We'll keep looking. Tom Jenkins is going to help, and some of the old-timers said they'd look too.” His face lined with worry, he cradled a cup of coffee between his hands.
“You'll find them,” Jean said, pulling a shawl around her shoulders. “They'll be fine. Luke's a clever boy, and Adam's an intelligent man.”
“Yeah, but Adam doesn't know anything about surviving under these conditions,” Laurel said.
Will nodded. “I better get moving. Robert said he'd meet me in thirty minutes.” He held Jean in a tight embrace, then kissed her before disappearing out the back door.
“Is Luke going to die like Justin?” Brian asked, his eyes brimming with tears.
“No, Luke isn't going to die. He'll be fine. We'll find him.” Jean pulled the boy onto her lap.
Laurel paced, her mind creating frightening images of two frozen bodies. “God, help them. Please help them make it home.” Unable to hold back her tears, she let them fall. She'd already lost one brother. Now Luke? And what about Adam? If something happened to him, she couldn't bear it. I love him, she admitted. I love him. She pressed her forehead against the cold window glass.
“Honey, they'll be all right.” Jean eased Brian off her lap and walked to Laurel. Pulling her close with one arm, she said, “Try not to worry. They'll make it back.”
“Oh, Mama, I feel so awful. I can't stand it if I lose Luke. I still miss Justin so much.” She cried against her mother's shoulder.
Brian patted her back. “It'll be all right. Let's look at the tree. It'll make you feel better,” he said and disappeared into the front room.
“Mama, I love Adam.”
Jean pushed a strand of hair off Laurel's face. “I know.”
“You do? How? I didn't until just now.”
“I know you,” Jean said with a maternal smile. “I see the way you light up when you get his letters and the way he unsettles you when he's around.” She kissed Laurel's forehead. “I was young once. I haven't forgotten what it's like.”
“You didn't say anything. Why?”
“What was I supposed to say? Adam was gone, and Robert was here.”
“What should I do?”
“I can't tell you that; only remember that sometimes our hearts can lead us astray. Adam is a fine person, but his life is very different from yours. Robert is steady, he's ready to include you in a life you know, and he loves you.”
Laurel kissed her mother. Walking back to the window, she stared out into the night. If Adam makes it, I'm going to tell him how I feel, she decided.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
OVER SHRIEKING WIND, LAUREL HEARD THE DISTINCT SOUND OF BOOTS BEING knocked free of snow. She ran for the door, flinging it open. Blowing snow swirled in. Will stood alone. He looked at her through anguished eyes. Laurel's legs went weak, and she grabbed the doorframe to steady herself. “Where's Robert?” she managed to ask.
“Home.”
“You didn't … they aren't …”
“Will?” Jean asked.
“We didn't find them.” Closing the door, he stepped inside, pushed off his hood, and unbuttoned his coat. “We looked and looked and didn't find them. We couldn't stay out longer.” He hung up his coat.
Jean walked to her husband and slid her arms around his waist.
Will pulled her close. “I'm sorry. We'll go out again at first light.” He looked at Laurel. “I'm sorry, sugar.”
“There's coffee,” Laurel said, “and Mama made apple cake.”
Will managed a smile. “I can count on you baking when life gets hard. Coffee sounds good.” He held his hands out to the stove. “Where's Brian?”
“He tried to wait up but fell asleep sitting at the table,” Jean said, filling a cup with coffee and handing it to Will before she sank into a chair.
“I carried him up to bed,” Laurel said. Her father looked weary, empty. Wind howled under the eaves.
Will shivered. “I'm cold to the bone.”
“We need to get you into some warm clothes,” Jean said, pushing herself to her feet and grabbing one of three shirts resting on the back of a chair beside the stove. She held it out to him. “Put it on. It'll warm you.”
Will did as he was told. “Feels better. Thanks.”
Wondering if it were possible for Luke and Adam to survive a night in this storm, Laurel filled a mug with coffee and sat at the table. “What do you think happened to them?”
“Don't know. We tried to follow the sled tracks, but they'd been buried in fresh snow.”
“Do you think they're all right?”
Before Will could answer, Jean said, “Of course they are.” She walked to the cupboard, opened it, and took down three plates, then set them beside the apple cake. “God hasn't forgotten those two. He's looking after them.” She opened a drawer, took out a knife, and sliced the heavy, moist dessert. Lifting out a wedge, she gently placed it on a plate. “God knows just exactly where they are, and he'll make sure they get home.” She handed the cake to Will. Meeting his eyes, she said evenly, “Tomorrow's Christmas. They'll be here.” She turned and walked back to the counter, removing another piece of cake. She set it on a plate and gave it to Laurel. After cutting a piece for herself, she sat at the table.
Will stood beside the stove. After taking a drink of his coffee, he set the cup on the warming shelf above the stove, then with his hand shaking slightly, he cut off a bite of cake and ate it. He said nothing.
Laurel sat across from her mother. She speared her cake but didn't eat it. Her stomach ached. “Mama, how can you know they'll be all right?”
“I trust God,” Jean said.
Laurel moved the confection around her plate, then pushed the dessert away.
She didn't want to hurt her mother, but unable to hold back the words, Laurel said, “God didn't save Justin.”
“He won't take another son from me,” Jean said softly. “I know it.” Silence fell over the room. Jean set her fork on the side of her plate. Her eyes brimmed with tears.
Immediately Will set his dessert aside and crossed to her. Kneeling beside Jean, he wrapped his arms around her.
She cried softly. “I want them to be all right. They have to be all right.”
Will held her tight. “They're in God's hands. All we can do is believe he'll do what's best.” Staring at the window, he added, “Sometimes God's will isn't our will. We must trust him. He knows all things; he sees the beginning and the end. He'll do what's best,” he repeated.
Jean looked into Will's eyes. “You're right.” She kissed him. “What would I have done without you all these years?” She managed a small smile. “Let's get you warmed up and into bed. I'll bring in some hot bricks.”
Will kissed her again. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.” He released her, stood, and walked out of the room.
Using oven mittens, Jean grabbed three hot bricks and wrapped them in heavy towels. She kissed Laurel's cheek. “Try to get some sleep, honey.”
Laurel rested a hand on her mother's arm. “I don't know if I can— not with Adam and Luke still out there.”
“Maybe they'll be here in the morning.” Jean gave Laurel a comforting smile and left the kitchen.
Laurel sat at the table. The cabin creaked and shuddered. The wind moaned, hurtling snow against the window. It sounded like hard pebbles hitting the glass. Laurel stared at her coffee mug. The sides of the cup were stained black, and the dark brew sat flat and lifeless like cold brine. She stood, crossed to the sink, and dumped it down the drain. Standing in front of the window, she stared out at white crystals swirling toward the window out of the dark. “Where are you? Please come home. Please.”
She closed her eyes. “God, I beg you to keep them safe. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to them.” Tears spilled onto her cheeks. Wiping at them, she walked stiffly to the stove, stoked the fire, put out the lantern, and wandered into the front room.
The Christmas tree that had looked merry earlier that day now only served to remind Laurel they had nothing to be cheerful about. Without Luke and Adam, there couldn't be any Christmas. Gifts were piled underneath it. Laurel kneeled and picked up one. It was for Brian. She knew what it was—a top. She smiled. Brian would like it.
She picked up another. The tag was made out to Adam. Laurel's breath caught. How had her mother found a gift for Adam so quickly? She smiled softly. “Mama. She must have gotten it for him today.” She replaced the package.
The floor creaked in her parents' room, then footsteps followed. She stood and turned to find her father watching her.
He looked at the tree. “Doesn't seem much like Christmas.”
“No, it doesn't.”
Will shuffled into the kitchen and reappeared a moment later with his coat and boots on.
“You're not going out again?” Laurel asked, alarm ripping through her.
“No. I'm not that foolish.” Will smiled, the creases deepening in his face. “I have work to do in the barn. I'd planned on getting it done this evening, but …” His words fell away. “I've been working on a sled for Luke—for the race. I figured he'd have a better chance with a new sled.”
Fear, like a knife, twisted in Laurel's chest. What if Luke never used the sled? Softly, she said, “He'll like that.”
With a slight nod, Will turned and walked out. Laurel heard the door open and close. With one last look at the tree, she shuffled up the stairs.
Laurel opened her eyes to a dark room. The sun wasn't up yet, but the world was quiet—no wind, no snow pebbles against the glass— just quiet. Shocked that she'd slept, Laurel sat up. Maybe Luke and Adam are home, she thought, throwing her legs over the side of the bed. She pushed her feet into slippers, pulled on a bathrobe, and headed downstairs. The house was empty. Hurrying for the back porch, she hoped to find Luke and Adam's coats hanging by the back door, but she didn't.
She walked to the stove and picked up the coffeepot. It was still half full, so she set it on a burner and started a fire. With that done, she sat at the table, her cheek resting in her hand. “Father, I thought you would save them,” she whispered.
Laurel sat for a long while. Finally her mother joined her and quietly started cooking breakfast. “I figure I ought to have something for them to eat when they get home,” she said.
“Do you really think they're coming home?” Laurel asked, desperate to believe.
“Yes, I do. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they were on their way right now.” She glanced out the window. “It's getting light. They should be here soon.” She turned a piece of sizzling bacon.
Laurel walked to the window. The world looked like it had been draped in white eiderdown. Fresh powder concealed tire tracks, footprints, and animal tracks. Tree limbs were encased in unspoiled crystals, and evergreen needles had turned into white fluff. No one had come or gone—the snow was unmarred. Even the tracks left by her father last night were buried. The snow no longer looked beautiful. Instead Laurel saw death. Resting her cheek against the cold glass, she wished she could believe.
The sound of a car engine fractured the quiet. Her heart quickening, Laurel peered up the driveway. A pickup truck bounced and slipped through the deep powder and stopped in front of the house. Laurel held her breath. Were Adam and Luke in the truck? Or had someone come to tell them they'd been found … dead?
The barn door opened. Pushing against snow, it created a mound. Will stepped out, his face creased with fatigue and worry. He stared at the truck. Then a smile smoothed away lines of anxiety. “Praise the Lord!” he hollered and ran for the truck.
Luke stepped out of the cab. He looked weary but healthy.
“Thank you, Lord!” Laurel whispered, hoping Adam would be next. He didn't appear. Where is he?
Then she saw Adam carefully lift his right leg and set his foot gingerly on the snow. His pant leg had been cut open, revealing a bandaged knee. He swung his other leg out and slowly stood, leaning against the truck. After saying something to the driver, he closed the door and watched the truck back away. He said something to Will, then looked at the house. His eyes stopped when they reached Laurel. Smiling, he swept off his hat and waved it at her.
Joy rolled through Laurel. She waved back and ran for the door, flinging it open. “Luke!” she yelled, throwing her arms around her brother. “I thought you were dead.” Tears washed her face. She kissed his cheek.
Luke grinned. “Maybe I ought to disappear more often. I like this kind of welcome. If you treated me this way all the time, I'd be a much nicer brother,” he teased and stepped inside.
Laurel came face-to-face with Adam, who had an arm draped around her father's shoulders. She didn't know what to say or do. She wanted to hug him, hold him close, and tell him she loved him, but knew she couldn't do that. It wasn't proper, and she had no idea how he would receive such a bold announcement. Besides, she'd already embarrassed him his first night in Palmer.
Adam let loose of Will and limped forward.
Laurel's eyes went to his knee. “Adam, you're hurt!”
He grinned and pulled Laurel to him in a bear hug. “It's nothing.” He held her for a moment before releasing her. “For a while yesterday, I was afraid I'd never see you again.”
“You were?” Laurel's heart beat fast.
Resting an arm around her shoulders, Adam limped into the house.
“What happened to your leg?” Brian asked.
“I twisted it when the sled crashed. It's sore and swollen, but it'll heal.” Still leaning on Laurel, he hobbled inside.
Laurel liked the feel of his arm around her and the sensation of helping him. “What happened to you two?”
“It was like a miracle,” Luke said. “We were out practicing for the race, and I let Adam have a hand at the reins. Everything was fine, and then King went wild. He wouldn't slow down. Anyway, Adam and the sled headed down a hill and tipped over. King kept going. We were stuck, and the weather turned bad.”
“How about a cup of coffee?” Jean asked.
“Sounds good.” Adam lowered himself onto a chair at the table, careful not to bend his knee.
“Anyway,” Luke said, pulling out a chair and dropping into it, “I had to leave Adam to get help. The wind was picking up and it was snowing, plus it was getting dark. I'll tell ya', I was scared. I prayed as I walked.” He smiled at his mother and father. “Thanks for teaching me right. Anyway, I stumbled onto this cabin. And would you believe it? King was standing right there on the porch, still in his harness, the sled behind him.” He took the coffee offered and sipped it.
