thirteen

Outside, the biting cold and wind whipped around Gabe’s body with a fury he’d never experienced. He fought to stand and instead fell twice to his knees. The very thought of Lena and the boys existing in this ominous weather filled him with dread. Surely God had watched over them.

Once the animals were fed and cared for, he gathered up the quarter pail of milk and trekked back to the house before dawn. Only one of the cows had not gone dry, and the others had been turned out to pasture when they’d stopped producing milk. He caught a glimpse of the winding smoke from the fireplace, and he knew his family welcomed him inside. As always, Lena would have coffee ready.

Although the faint light of morning tore across the sky, he couldn’t study the clouds for the curtain of snow assaulting him from every direction. He’d studied clouds in his books and, together with Lena’s teachings, had learned to read nature’s map. This morning spelled blizzard, and already all he could see of the cabin was the fire twinkling through the window. Suddenly the wisp of smoke from the chimney vanished.

The Shafers would miss their ration of milk today, but he dared not risk losing his way in the snow. He’d missed bringing them milk before, and they had fared well. Obviously, this was a day to advance the boys in their lessons.

“Turnip,” he called. Normally the dog came bounding. “Turnip.” Gabe released a heavy sigh. He pondered looking for the animal. However, once he ventured out again into the blinding snow and ferocious wind, he abandoned his purpose, setting his sights on the beacon in the cabin window.

Turnip is probably in the house, lying by the fire all snuggly warm. Deserter.

Each step took his breath and cut at his face. He contemplated resting the pail on the snow and pulling the muffler tighter around his face but feared spilling the contents. If the blizzard raged on, they might need the milk.

“Gabe!” Lena called.

He glanced toward the cabin.

“Gabe!”

“Yes, I’m making progress,” he replied, the wind stinging his throat. “I see the firelight in the window.”

“I’m waiting for you.”

The dearest words this side of heaven. He’d stumble through ten blizzards for that endearing sound. “Don’t linger in the cold,” he called to her. “You’ll be ill.”

“Not until you get here.”

Stubborn woman, and he loved her for it.

Once he reached the front door, she opened it wide. A gust of wind sent it slamming so hard on the inner wall of the cabin that he feared the house would crumble. She stood covered from head to toe with the new coat, mittens, and muffler he’d purchased in Archerville. She reminded him of an Egyptian mummy he’d seen in a book.

“I should have given you a rope,” she said, shaking the snow from her coat.

“To tie about my waist and to the house?”

She nodded. “Don’t leave again without it. You could wander around for hours and freeze to death.”

He chuckled. “I know you’ve expressed concern over that condition before.” He hung his outer garments on the peg beside hers. The aroma of coffee mixed with frying cornmeal flapjacks filled his nostrils.

“Ready for coffee?” she asked, as if reading his thoughts.

“Absolutely.” He walked to the fireplace and glanced around for the dog. “Isn’t Turnip inside?”

She whirled around and stared at him. “No. He left with you.”

Where is the dog? He shivered, both from the bitter cold and the prospect of Turnip caught in its grip. “I need to find him.”

“Later, Gabe. You need to get out of those wet clothes.” She hesitated. “You’ve lost so much weight I believe you could wear James’s clothing. Let’s take a look. We can deal with the dog after breakfast.”

He followed her into the bedroom, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the unmade bed and the fresh scent of her lingering in every corner. If he were to wake up tomorrow and find himself blind, he’d live out his days with her face in his mind.

Lena pulled a trunk from beneath the rope bed and sorted through it. Gabe stood back, uncertain if he should invade her personal treasures.

“Here’s a shirt and overalls,” she said, handing him the carefully folded clothing. “I’m sure they will fit.”

“Will this plague you or the boys? Seeing me in his attire?”

She shook her head. “He’d be pleased they’d come to good use, and so am I.” She stepped from the small room and pulled a curtain separating the bedroom from the main room. “Do you mind if I let the boys sleep?”

“Let them,” he replied, examining the shirt and overalls. He felt oddly disconcerted by the knowledge that they’d belonged to Lena’s deceased husband. “Not much for them to do today with the blizzard.” And I need to find Turnip.

Gabe donned the clothes and caught sight of himself in Lena’s dresser mirror. I look so different—not at all like the Gabriel Hunters who left Philadelphia. What happened to my portly body?

In the midst of his second cup of coffee and a third flapjack smothered in molasses, he looked up to see Caleb making his way through the blanket separating the boys’ room from the fireplace and cookstove.

“Mornin’,” he greeted through sleepy eyes. “Sounds like we have a blizzard. Strange, we haven’t had one all winter.”

“We do, Son,” Gabe replied. “My first Nebraska blizzard, and it’s everything this family has warned. We’ll all stick close to the fire today; maybe do a little extra reading.”

Caleb grinned. “Sounds good to me.” Glancing about, he gave his mother a puzzled look. “Where’s Simon and Turnip?”

Lena’s face turned a ghastly shade of pale. She swallowed hard and called out. “Simon, are you using the chamber pot?”

No answer.

“I woke up, and he wasn’t there,” Caleb said softly. “He wouldn’t have wandered outside, would he?”

Gabe rose and made his way to the boys’ room. His coat. He prayed Simon’s coat hung on the peg beside his pallet.

“Simon?” Lena called, her voice anxious. . .and scared.

“He’s not here.” Gabe hurried to the front door. He couldn’t face Lena. First he’d lost Turnip, and now Simon had disappeared. “I’ll find him,” he said as he grabbed his winter garments. By the time he’d pulled on his mittens and wrapped the muffler around his face to bar the frigid cold, Lena had a rope.

“Tie one end around your waist and the other around one of the porch posts,” she said shakily.

He couldn’t avoid eye contact any longer. “I’ll not disappoint you or Simon.” Not waiting for her reply, he stepped out into the blizzard, praying harder than when he’d faced the wolves. At least then he could see his son and the face of danger. He felt his way to the right post anchoring the porch.

“Simon, where are you?” he called, but the wind sucked away his breath, and the words died in his throat. Securing the rope, he plodded toward the barn.

I’ve always had a keen sense of direction, but not even a compass could assist me now. Oh Lord, be my feet and lead me to Simon.

“Simon, Turnip,” he tried calling again. The roar of the wind met his ears.

After what he believed was several minutes, he bumped into the well. He’d walked in the opposite direction! Making his way around it until he could grab the well handle, Gabe closed his eyes and turned in the direction of what he believed was the barn. Every second became a prayer. On he went, his feet feeling as though they were laden with weights. The way seemed endless, and ofttimes he fell.

“Pa.” He strained to hear again. “Pa, I’m scared and cold.”

Praise God. Simon must be in the barn. Guide me, Lord.

Gabe tried to speed his trek, but the elements slammed into him as though an invisible wall had been erected. “I’m coming, Simon. Have faith.”

With his chest aching and each step an effort, Gabe at last touched the side of the dugout where he believed Simon awaited inside. “Simon, I’m by the barn wall.”

Nothing. Not even the hint of sound indicating the boy rested safely inside.

Gabe repeated his words. Keep him in Your arms. I beg of You. Rounding the barn, he found the opening. A few moments later, he stepped inside and scanned the small area. A pair of arms seized him about the waist. Gabe wrapped his arms around Simon, wanting to shelter him forever from the cold and wind.

“You came,” Simon said between sobs. “I thought I’d die here with Turnip and the animals.”

Turnip’s tale thumped against Gabe’s leg. Never had the dog looked so good. “I heard you calling for me,” Gabe said, carefully inspecting him from head to toe. Luckily, the boy had dressed warmly before leaving the cabin.

Simon shook his head. “I didn’t call for you. I just waited and talked to God about being scared.”

Thank You, Lord, for sending Your angels to minister to me and keep Simon safe. Joy raced through Gabe’s veins, while he hugged the boy closer.

“You’re the best pa ever,” the boy said, clinging to Gabe’s snow-covered body.

“We must give the credit to our Lord,” Gabe replied, tucking Simon’s muffler securely around his neck and face. “Oh, Simon, what made you decide to come looking for Turnip?”

“I didn’t. I heard you get up early and wanted to help with the chores, but with the blizzard, I couldn’t find the barn. Turnip guided me here, but you were already gone.”

The dog nuzzled Gabe’s leg, and he patted him. No doubt, God had used stranger-looking angels than a mangy dog.

“We need to head back. Your mother and brother are very worried. First, let’s check on the animals and pray.”

And they did, thanking God for taking care of Simon and sending His angels to help Gabe.

“Ready?” Gabe asked, dreading the walk ahead.

Simon nodded. “Don’t let go of my hand, please.”

“I’ll do better than that. I’ll carry you.” Although Gabe wondered how he’d make it back with the extra load, he knew God hadn’t brought him this far to desert him now. He’d follow the rope. Gathering up Simon, he whispered, “Keep your head down against the wind, and pray.”

“Yes, Pa. I love you.”

❧

Lena could wait no longer. Gabe had been gone an hour, with every minute taking a toll on her heart. She must do something.

“Caleb, I’m going out there. I’ll follow the rope, so don’t worry.” Pulling on her heavy clothes, she ignored her son’s protests.

“Then, I’m going with you,” he said stubbornly, reaching for his coat.

“I won’t lose two sons in this blizzard.”

“And I won’t lose my ma, pa, and brother either.”

Bravery doesn’t need to be so dangerous. “I want you to stay here, please.”

Caleb stood before her dressed for the weather. “I’m going with you.” He lifted the latch. “We’ll both follow the rope.”

Lena made her way to the post, but the rope was gone. She searched the other side of the porch. Nothing. She kneeled on her hands and knees, frantically searching for the loose end. She felt certain Gabe had secured his end to the right side. Caleb joined her. The wind stole her breath, but she refused to give up. The snow could have covered the rope in a matter of moments, but without it, Gabe would never find his way to the cabin. She prayed and wept—for Simon, Gabe, and the love she possessed for both of them.

Caleb tugged at her coat. She ignored him. He tugged harder and began to drag her back. “I found it,” he shouted.

Lena wrapped her fingers around the frayed ends and clung to it as though she held the hand of God. She and Caleb managed to crawl back onto the porch and to the door. Securing the rope around the porch post had proved useless. She’d not let it go until she saw her family. Help them, Father. Bring them back to me.

“I’ll stay out here and hold it,” Caleb shouted above the wind.

“No, I’m stronger. Go back inside.”

“I’m nearly twelve, Ma, and I’m staying.”

He sounded so much like James, so much like Gabe—so much like a man. She didn’t argue.

Lena’s whole body grew numb with the cold. Every so often she stomped her feet and forced her body to move. Caleb followed her example. Where are they?

Then the rope moved. Perhaps the wind had grasped it and toyed with her mind. She felt another pull and grabbed Caleb’s arm.

“They’re coming! I can feel it.” She laughed and cried at the same time, simply believing Gabe had Simon. After all, he’d said he’d bring back her son—their son.

The minutes dragged on before she caught sight of Gabe trudging through the snow, carrying Simon with Turnip beside them. For a moment, she feared her eyes might deceive her, but then Caleb called out to Gabe, and he answered. Tears froze on her cheeks.

Once the wind and snow lay outside and she saw Simon and Gabe were safe, Lena threw her arms around Gabe’s snow-laden body and sobbed on his chest.

“Simon’s fine,” Gabe soothed. “He was in the barn with Turnip staying warm with the animals.”

“I was afraid I’d lost you both. Oh, you dear, sweet man, I love you so.”