Season of Blessing (28 page)

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Authors: Beverly LaHaye

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BOOK: Season of Blessing
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“It's okay, baby,” he said. “It wasn't that bad. Why are you so upset?”

“Because I'm so stupid,” she said, “and so catty. And Harry and Sylvia are over there struggling for her life. Harry's so afraid he's going to lose her, and here I am, picking at you. Just picking, picking, picking.”

He touched the back of her head and pressed her closer to him. “It's okay, honey. It's okay.”

“I promise I'm not going to accuse you anymore. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me or my children.”

Steve held her and let her cry until her tears subsided. Then together they sat on the bed and prayed for Sylvia.

C
HAPTER

Forty-Nine

A week after
her sixth treatment, Sylvia lay curled up on the bed, wondering when she would ever get her energy back. Each chemo treatment seemed worse than the one before it, and took longer to recover from. And what if it was futile? What if she was putting herself through these grueling treatments, and the cancer grew in spite of it?

Harry came and sat on the edge of the bed. “You want to go for a walk?”

“No, I'm too tired.”

“But you love the snow. And your favorite place in the world is the woods behind our house. Maybe it would be good for you to get some exercise, breathe some fresh air, get your mind off of how bad you feel.”

“I can't, Harry. Not today.”

But Harry didn't give up. “Sylvia, I've got a surprise out there I want to show you. A late Christmas present.”

She rubbed her eyes. “I don't want any surprises. I don't have the energy for them.”

“Come on. You'll love this one.” He pulled her up, helped her to her feet.

She didn't want to go. Within a few days, she knew she would be back to herself, except for the debilitating fatigue. But right now…

He pulled her up, got her coat, pulled it around her shoulders. She didn't have the energy to fight him as he took her by the hand and led her out into the backyard.

Harry couldn't wait to show her his surprise. Ever since Joseph came up with the idea, he'd been looking for a gentle, older horse that would be right for Sylvia. If she had something to take care of, something that needed her, he knew she would feel better sooner after each treatment. He'd found the horse through a friend of a friend. Its owner had died, and the family needed to sell it.

Before he made an offer, he'd consulted with her oncologist. He'd told him it was okay for her to ride as long as she didn't overdo it.

He took her hand and walked patiently beside her, one step at a time. When he put his arm around her, he could feel her body trembling with weakness. He hoped he was doing the right thing.

“I've missed having the horses,” he said as they headed slowly for the barn. “Haven't you?”

“Yeah, I really do.”

He grinned. “Wouldn't it be nice to have one again?”

“Sure it would,” she said. “But if we got one, we'd just have to sell it again when we went back to León.”

That positive proclamation did him good. For the last few weeks, he'd worried that she was giving up.

“Well, I was thinking that this time if we got a horse, when we left we could just donate it to somebody.”

She looked at him with dull, distant eyes. “Somebody like who?”

“Somebody like Joseph.”

Sylvia stopped and looked up at him.

“Wouldn't that be like coming full circle?” Harry asked. “We sold the first horses to raise money for his transplant, and this one we'd give to him because he's so healthy he can ride.”

“But Brenda and David could never afford to keep a horse for Joseph.”

Harry shrugged. “We could work something out.”

Sylvia smiled. “I like that idea.”

He laughed and pulled her into the stable, and she heard something over in the corner where Sunshine, her favorite horse, used to live.

She frowned. “What's that? I heard—”

His grin was giving him away. “You'll see.” He led her to the stall, where a tall, beautiful mare looked over the door.

She caught her breath. “Oh, Harry, what have you done?”

He laughed. “I bought you a new horse,” he said. “Isn't she beautiful? Look at her.” He opened the door and grabbed the horse's bridle, which he had put on a little while earlier. He pulled her out of the stall so that Sylvia could have a good look.

She started to cry and stroked the horse's chocolate coat. “Oh, Harry. I love her.”

“I've been looking all over for just the right horse. I thought it would be good therapy for you to ride again. It's your favorite thing to do in the whole world, and you haven't done it in years.”

The horse nuzzled her neck and she rubbed her face against it. “What a sweetie,” she said. “Oh, Harry. Are you sure we can afford it? We don't have that much left in savings.”

Their finances had been drained by their mission work. They'd funneled all of their savings and much of their retirement into medical supplies and food for the people of León.

“Sure we can,” he said. “I've decided to go back to work at the hospital part-time. Joe Simmons wants me to join him in his practice, and I told him that I might be able to do it on nonchemo weeks.”

Sylvia turned away from the horse and regarded him. “Does he understand that you're only going to be there a few months?”

“He understands,” he said. “I'm not planning to take any long-term patients.”

She hugged the horse as if he were a long-lost member of her family. “Can I ride her?”

“Of course you can.” He grabbed down the saddle that had hung there for over two years, dressed the horse as Sylvia watched. Already he could see the energy seeping back into her, and her countenance had changed completely.

“Take it easy now the first time,” he said. “I don't want you breaking any bones.”

With his help, she got on the horse, sat for a moment. He saw the perfect peace passing over her face, as if she was finally home.

Her laughter was like a symphony. “Oh, Harry, you're a genius,” she said. “I'm already feeling better.”

“Now take it real, real easy,” he said again as the horse walked out of the barn and into the fresh air. Big snowflakes floated down around them. “Don't underestimate your weakness.”

“I won't,” she said. “We're just going to get to know each other. What's her name?”

“Midnight,” he said.

She patted the horse's neck. “Let's go, Midnight.”

Then she walked the horse off to her favorite path.

Harry stood watching, and said a silent prayer that she would not hurt herself. But the surprise had accomplished his goal to get her out of bed and her mind off of her problems. She only had two more treatments. They were sure to get worse and more draining. Then, as she built her strength back, she would have Midnight to nurture and pamper.

It was the perfect plan. Harry just hoped God would go along with it.

C
HAPTER

Fifty

A week
into the new year, Mark got up early to beat the bushes for a job. He went to each business on the list that he and Steve had forged. Some of the managers were not in, and he was only able to fill out applications. When he finally found one that would see him, he felt as if he had hit pay dirt.

It was a roofing company and paid a little bit more than minimum wage. It sounded like a good job, at least according to Steve, and Steve knew the guy who ran the company.

The interview was going well until Mark told him what he had done with the last year of his life. The open look on his face closed, and he leaned back in his chair. “You should have told me that up front, Mark.”

Mark shifted in his seat. “Why? You wouldn't have even seen me if I had told you that.”

“Well, I needed to know. It's kind of pertinent.”

Mark felt his cheeks burning. “It's really not. I did a stupid thing a year and a half ago and I paid for it. But I'm different now. I don't do drugs anymore.”

“Still, I don't hire ex-cons.” The man got up and stuck the file back into the file cabinet behind him.

Mark knew he was being dismissed. He got up, slid his hands into his pockets. “It was River Ranch juvenile delinquent center.” He kept his voice low, steady. “It's not like I was serving time in the federal penitentiary. Besides, I'm a Christian now. And if the almighty God of the universe can forgive me, then I don't see why somebody like you can't.”

He turned and started back to the door.

“Wait a minute,” the man said.

Mark stopped and turned around.

“Come back in here and sit down.”

Mark slid his hands into his pockets again and came back.

The man sat back down and leaned his elbows on his desk. “I'll tell you what. I can see that you're a passionate young man, and that maybe you really do have it in you to change. And since you're Steve's stepson, I guess I can help out with that a little.”

Mark started to tell him not to do him any favors, but thought better of it.

“If you're here tomorrow morning at seven o'clock, you can start working. Just report here and fill out all the paperwork, and then Myra, my secretary, will tell you where our work site is for the day. You can come over and we'll put you to work.”

Mark slowly unfolded from his slump, and a grin crept across his face. Had he heard right? Had the man hired him? The man got up and held out a hand to shake. Mark got to his feet and shook. “Thank you, sir. You won't regret it.”

“Let's hope not.”

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