[Troublesome Creek 01] - Troublesome Creek (19 page)

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Authors: Jan Watson

BOOK: [Troublesome Creek 01] - Troublesome Creek
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Leaving the Pelfreys’ house with no news of Copper, Will hurried home. There was Grace pacing the porch as Will mounted the steps. “She’s not here?” he blurted out. “I thought surely—”
“No. Where could she be?” Grace frowned, wringing her hands. “I’m getting worried.”
“Try not to upset yourself,” he said as fear gnawed like a rat at his gut. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.” Will steadied himself. He had to believe the words he’d just spoken to Grace, though his alarm grew with each passing moment.
God,
he thought in silent, urgent prayer,
You’ve got to keep her safe. I can’t go through losing her like I lost Julie.
 
As the hours passed, darkness seeped into the sinkhole like a mist rising from the water. Copper could see light at the opening above her even as her feet . . . her knees . . . then her hands disappeared in the darkness below. She kept her head back, her eyes focused upward, until even that last pale solace faded.
She wrapped her arms around her legs, leaned her head against her knees, and dozed fitfully. Every time she woke, she’d pat the rock around her, finding her place, fearful she’d moved too close to the edge. Thirst and cold gripped her. She wanted her old quilt and a cup of chamomile tea, but what she longed for most of all was light. Just the tiniest candle flame to ease the fearsome night. If she angled her body just so and cocked her head to the right, she could see a star shining ever so brightly above her.
Bits of Bible verses, sweet as honey on her tongue, caroled in her mind and gave great comfort:
“I am the light of the world.” “My light I give to you.” “The Lord is my light and my salvation.” “Thy word is a lamp . . . and a light.” “When I sit in darkness, the Lord shall be a light unto me.”
Words have such power,
she thought—and she had plenty of time for thinking—to hurt or comfort, even to give light in the darkness. Then something she’d said earlier came back to her.
“Words, just words
. . .” Her biting reply to Mam’s correction the day they’d made apple butter.
If I ever get out of here, I promise to think before I speak. I promise to listen to the words of others and not be so quick with my own
.
Copper was freezing and thirsty, and her mouth tasted like vomit. Her neck ached from a crick, but she dared not move for fear of losing sight of the star: her light . . . her promise.
 
Grace, her open Bible in her lap, prayed fervently for the safe return of the girl she loved as much as if Laura Grace were her daughter by birth. She put her head back and rested her eyes. Visions too horrific to give voice to skittered behind her closed eyelids: Laura Grace had fallen down the mountain and lay helplessly, her leg broken, waiting for rescue; she’d drowned in the forbidden swimming hole; that catamount Grace hated and feared stalked Laura Grace as she clung desperately to the branch of a tree. . . .
It had to be that mountain lion she sometimes saw in the early morning patrolling the high ridge behind their cabin. Grace had begged Will to shoot it, but he refused. “No sense hurting something that ain’t hurting us,” he’d said.
Oh, she hated this place sometimes, this place and its stubborn people.
Grace bowed her head again and folded her hands upon her Bible.
I’m sorry. Forgive me, Lord. You know I don’t hate the people here. And, oh—never Will, Father. You know I love him, but he’s a product of this place, and sometimes this is a dreadful place to be. Keep Laura Grace safe. Please . . . please keep her safe.
Sick with fear, Grace was thankful the twins were asleep—at least she didn’t have to deal with them. They’d pestered her to no end, begging to go with Will and Daniel Pelfrey, especially when they discovered Daniel’s big boys were also looking. . . .
All the boys but John. He was away, hired out to someone.
It’s too bad
, she thought. John would know better than anyone where Laura Grace might be. Those two had wandered every nook and hollow of the mountain together. Grace knew they’d have to fetch John if they didn’t find Laura Grace soon.
Grace stood abruptly, dropping her Bible to the floor. She picked it up, wiped its cover with her apron, and placed it on the table beside her sewing basket. Moving to the window, she drew back the curtain, but it was so dark she couldn’t see a thing. Tears gathered, threatening to overflow as she wrung her hands.
Something terrible has happened. I just know it.
She knelt then, there by her chair, and put out a fleece.
Lord, my help in times of need, bring her back to us. It’s my fault she’s gone, I know. She’s trying to escape from me. Bring her back and I’ll give up my notion of sending her away.
She had a pot of coffee on the stove and was making biscuits when Will came in an hour later. He looked haggard and old. Worry creased his handsome face, and his eyes were rimmed with red.
Her heart ached.
He’s been here before,
she thought.
This is not the first night he has spent searching for someone he loves. At least it’s not storming like that night. At least if Laura Grace is in the creek she won’t be lost to us.
Her stomach lurched at the thought of Julie’s precious body being swept away, like worthless flotsam, by the violent waters of Troublesome Creek.
 
Will sat heavily and took the mug Grace offered. “Ah, Grace—” he stood back up—“don’t cry.” He rubbed his eyes as he gathered what strength he had left. “Daniel took his boys home. We’re not doing any good in the dark. I’ll start again at first light.”
“I can’t abide this, Will,” Grace said, turning her back to him, her voice rising in panic. “I simply cannot abide this.”
He moved toward Grace to comfort her. When he touched her shoulder, she whirled around so quickly that she knocked the cup from his hand. It crashed to the floor and shattered, sending shards of glass and splashes of hot coffee everywhere. He could see the desperation in her eyes.
“But what do you think?” she demanded. “A wild animal? That catamount we keep seeing up on the ridge? I’m sure I heard its scream just past midnight.” Her voice gave way, and she began sobbing.
“Grace, Grace.” He patted her back. “You’re letting your worry shadow your faith. God will provide for Copper. ” He spoke with certainty, but his confidence had been hard earned. He’d had to decide to trust in the Lord after he lost Julie. It was that or become a raving madman. He had struggled then, the faith he’d found so easily in his youth turning brittle as shale with his loss. But God had reached down and comforted him all those years ago when he’d rambled the woods carrying his baby girl against his chest.
At first he had been so angry when Julie had been found, drowned in the place he’d always loved so much. Those days were bleak, soul-stealing days. Shaking his fist at the heavens, he’d railed at God and blamed Him for his loss.
But one day in the early morning hush as he’d climbed and clawed his way to the very top of Pine Mountain, the baby safely bound close to his heart, God had sent a glorious sunrise that lit the mountain like flames of fire and tipped the leaves of the trees in shimmering gold. Even in his sorrow he had to acknowledge its beauty. He’d stood stock-still atop the highest point of all the mountains and relished the scene.
Suddenly a murmuring, low and melodious, had filled the air around him. A breeze stirred the gold-tipped leaves, and he thought a summer storm must be approaching. He stood there on that high peak as, against all reason, the rustling trees sang to him of hope.
“I have called thee by thy name; thou art mine. When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee.”
Julie’s favorite Scripture pierced his soul like arrows shot from angels’ bows. A strange sensation sent goose bumps up and down his arms, and he took the baby from underneath his shirt to see if she was cold. He tightened the little white knit blanket Emilee had wrapped her in, and she snuggled into his arms.
Then it had come to him, the knowing that would see him through his terrible loss:
God is all-present.
It was so simple it took him to his knees. God is all-present, whether in good times or bad. He is the author and commander of every moment of life present and life past and all life that is yet to come. Will gained a sure and present faith that day before he took his daughter back down the mountain to Emilee, and it had stood the test of time.
Now all he had to do to remind himself of that certain knowledge, that unshakable faith, was to step outside this cabin. The mountains he loved so much were like God’s own arms surrounding him. No matter what the outcome, God was in charge of this night, he reckoned.
Will embraced his wife, and she didn’t resist. It felt so good to rest his body against hers for a moment.
Daniel stumbled into the room. Rubbing his eyes, he plucked at Will’s shirtsleeve. “Daddy?”
Will pulled Daniel into the circle of their embrace. “What is it, Son?”
“Daddy . . . I’m not supposed to tell.” Daniel leaned against his leg. “Willy said we’d get a whipping for going up there, but that’s where Sissy is.”
“What are you talking about?” Will cupped Daniel’s chin. “You’d best tell me what you know.”
“It’s that old graveyard. Me and Willy tracked Sissy there once. She had a picnic basket, and we wanted to go on a picnic too, but she went too far and Willy got thirsty and we went to the spring that’s up there by that big old oak tree, and when we went back to the graveyard she was gone, so we—”
“Whoa, boy, slow down.” He turned Daniel’s face up toward his own. “What makes you think Copper might be there now?”

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