Geneva perched on the toilet seat and leaned forward to examine the little strip of blue plastic pinched between her thumb and forefinger. Positive! Once again, she counted. Twelve weeks. She had barely dared to allow the thought to take root, even when she had missed her second period, even when she had been carried to the bathroom on waves of nausea every morning. She had simply not believed that she could have been reprieved from the awful certainty that she had drunk the vile liquid from Howard’s cup.
She squeezed her eyes against the image of his pained face, the lightless eyes staring at her with despair as she took it from him. How reluctantly he had surrendered it! It had been a test, and she had failed, proving herself shallow and selfish. And he had given her up in that moment, knowing that she would not stand firm, that she was capable of billowing and changing course with the slightest wind.
She had given up on herself, too, when he had told her that he could not love her, could not hold her to him and give her the life he thought she wanted. But that was before her wants changed, before God had told her He would never give up on her. He had shattered all the panes of her brittle self and had replaced them with pure, warm light.
And now, this! At first, she felt nothing, just a numb uncomprehending, then a small tendril of fear spooled upward along the path of her spine, curling and twining around her heart. It was quickly joined by a green vine of joy, which unfurled and grew and flowered, coupling with the first weed of fear until she did not know which was which. She only knew that something bloomed and grew, huge and terrifyingly beautiful. The feeling was too big to name; these things bursting into feathery spirals were too fine and delicate to articulate, to hold long enough to slip into a slot of meaning. But she did know that the pain she had been carrying with her all these weeks had lightened.
Thank you, Lord, she whispered, as the joy crowded out the fear, But what do I do now? She didn’t care. Howard’s child was sleeping in her womb. God had granted her something that she didn’t even know she had wanted. Against all hope and possibility, she was being offered another chance to love someone. Not Howard. He had made it clear that was not possible. But his child. Someone to give her whole self to, to delight in, a gift worthy of the Magi. She gave a little gasping chuckle and leaned her head against the wall, letting the wonder of it wash over her.
There was a knock at the door of the bathroom.
“Aunt Geba, I gotta pee!” came the small voice. “Let me in! I gotta pee now!”
She jumped up and pushed the blue strip of plastic underneath the tissues in the wastebasket, then opened the door to Phoebe’s earnest face. “Gotta pee, Aunt Geba.” The child clutched at her crotch and danced a little jig.
“Sure, honey, let me help you,” Geneva said, lifting the child onto the toilet. “You’re such a big girl, holding it like that. I’m proud of you!” Phoebe teetered on the seat, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and beaming at Geneva. “I know. I can always hold it now!” She reached for the toilet paper and tucked a wad of it between her legs, then hopped off the toilet. “I am a big girl! I can pull my own pants back up,” she said, struggling to do so.
The phone rang, and there was a simultaneous knock at the front door. Geneva heard Rachel talking to someone as she picked up her niece and stuck her small hands under running water, then handed her a towel. “Good job, sweetie! You got them nice and clean!” She carried Phoebe into the living room to see who had arrived, but it was empty. Outside, Rachel was setting the twins into their baby stroller. Hannah stood beside her sisters and poked soft toys at them.
“Hey,” said Geneva, opening the door.
“Hey,” answered Rachel, glancing up and smiling. “Who do you have there?”
“A little girl I found in the bathroom pee-peeing all by herself.”
“No!” shouted Phoebe, “A big girl!”
“Yes, you are!” agreed Geneva, kissing her. “A big girl, indeed. I won’t be able to carry you around much longer.” And she set the child down with a hug. Phoebe scampered over to her sisters. “Who was at the door?”
“Sally Beth. She just popped in to borrow Fairhope. Said she wanted to get in one last ride before the weather got bad. Can you believe it’s supposed to snow today? It’s so warm now.”
Geneva could hold her news no longer. “You got a minute?”
Rachel looked at her askance. “I’ve got days. What’s up?”
Geneva had not intended to sound so serious. She laughed. “Not much. Just something earth-shattering.” She lowered her voice. “I’m pregnant.”
Rachel’s eyes flew wide open and she slapped her hand to her chest and gasped. Then she grabbed Geneva and hugged her tightly. “When did you find out?”
“Just now. EPT.”
“Oh my!” breathed Rachel, looking at Geneva with something between delight and shock. Then she hugged her again. “Oh Lord have mercy!”
“I think this is a sign of His mercy. You don’t know what I did. I tried to get rid of this baby already, before I even know I was pregnant. But I guess I have been spared the consequences of what I did.” And Geneva sat down beside her sister and told her about the dark, deadly tea she had swallowed on that bitter morning. “But I still have that baby! Oh Rachel! It’s such a gift!”
They both sat silent for a long while, contemplating what this might mean. Finally Rachel spoke, “Honey, that’s great, but what will you do? And how come you haven’t figured this out already? You haven’t been with Howard for months.”
Geneva could not stop the giggle. “I know! I can’t believe it!” She rushed on breathlessly. “I was so out of it after the attack, I didn’t notice that I had missed a period, and then, ‘cause I just assumed I couldn’t be pregnant, when I missed the second one, I figured it was because so much had been going on, and then, I started thinking I had some sort of stomach bug that wouldn’t go away. It wasn’t until last week that I started getting suspicious, but I was scared I would jinx it if I thought about it too much…” She giggled again, and then tears sprang to her eyes. “Oh Rachel! This is just so amazing! What on earth am I going to do?”
Rachel caught her giggles. “I don’t know, girl! But you’d better do something soon! Three months gone already, so you don’t have a lot of time. Oh! By the way! That was Lenora on the phone. She wants to come see the babies again, and, of course Jimmy Lee is coming, as usual. Seems like she just can’t get enough of them, and I guess Jimmy Lee isn’t going to give up, at least not until he finds out about this!” She tapped Geneva’s belly. “I’m going to call her back and tell her to bring Howard with her this time instead of Jimmy Lee!” she laughed. “And bring a ring!” She clapped her hands with delight. “Oh, hot dog! We have to start planning a wedding! Geneva, you’re going to have everything you wanted!”
Geneva recoiled. “No! Don’t you dare!” She sobered and dropped her eyes. “Rachel, I won’t marry him. I can’t.”
“What? Of course you will marry him! Once he finds out, he’ll sweep you up and take you straight to the church. I know he’s just looking for an excuse to get you back, and this will be the perfect opportunity.”
There was a time when Geneva would have joined Rachel in this fantasy, thinking furiously, planning, figuring out a way to make things turn out in the way she wanted, but today, she did not try to think or plan or maneuver. She simply allowed herself to be, to revel in the gratitude and peace she felt when she thought about this baby. She tried not to think of Howard; it hurt too much to switch the light of her memory onto the little cabin on the mountain and the bed of mint and the streaming stars. God had promised to direct her life, and there was no need for her to try to do it herself. She might not have Howard, but she would have his child forever. She smiled, even as the ache settled into her bones. Would she ever stop this ceaseless yearning for him? She hoped so, but she knew it would be a very, very long time.
“No. I won’t.” She had not thought about how Howard would react to the news about this miracle, but as the words came out of her mouth, they brought with them resolve. “Of course he would marry me, but I can’t do this to him—trap him, or at least make him feel trapped. He has made it clear he doesn’t love me, doesn’t even want to love me, and I can’t put him in that position. We’d be a classic hillbilly shotgun wedding couple, and he would spend the rest of his life resenting me and the baby. I can’t do that to him, to us. To this baby. What we had was perfect, and I won’t ruin it.”
“Geneva! What makes you say he doesn’t love you? After what you told me about your last conversation, it seems that he does love you, but he’s afraid you will hurt him. This will give him the opportunity to learn to trust you. At least give him that chance! And besides, you love him, that’s perfectly clear. This can make things right between you.”
“No,” she said, cupping her hand at the place she imagined the baby lay. “This baby doesn’t need to grow up under that shadow. It’s going to be the good part of what I have of him.”
“Geneva!” her sister wailed. “You can’t do that! I can’t believe I am hearing this from you! Why would you run away from the man you really love? What about this baby? Do you want it to grow up without a father?” Her eyes narrowed. “Is this your pride talking? Because you told me you had gotten rid of that.”
Geneva sighed. “Let’s talk about it later, Rachel. I’ll go talk to him, and we’ll see how it goes, ok? And I don’t have to tell you not to tell anybody, not even Wayne until I say you can.” She grimaced. “Or Mama and Daddy, either. Gosh, this will kill them.”
“No it won’t,” growled Rachel. “You aren’t the first Lenoir girl to get knocked up. Maybe the first not to marry the daddy, but they can take it.” She sighed and took Geneva’s hand. “I promise I won’t tell, but it’s not going to be easy.” And then the twins began to wail, and the conversation ended. Geneva fell silent, wrapping her turbulent thoughts around her like an untidy shroud.
The balmy morning wavered and turned. By ten o’clock, the temperature had dropped suddenly. Rain fell like birdshot on the last of the fall vegetables, and by the time Geneva and Rachel had closed all the windows, the rain had turned to ice, then to snow. Geneva stepped out onto the porch to call her cats, but when they didn’t show up, she shrugged and went back inside. They knew how to find the barn if they needed it.
Storm clouds began to pile up, thrown high and tumbled like a bed hastily departed, the sky darkened, and the temperature continued in free fall. Snow swirled in tiny white tornadoes against the pewter sky. Wayne came home.
“I was afraid I couldn’t make it over the pass with this snow coming down. The weatherman says that we could get six to eight inches before it blows over. I’ve never seen it snow this hard this early in the year,” he said, stamping the snow off his shoes.
Rachel stood at the door. “Wayne, I am worried about Sally Beth. She took off on Fairhope early this morning, and she isn’t back yet. “Do you think you ought to go looking for her?”
“Oh, no,” groaned Wayne. “Doesn’t that girl have enough sense to get out of the weather? Where did she go?” Rachel shook her head and shrugged. “Did you see which way she took off?”
“She went west, so she could be headed toward a dozen different places. Should I call Uncle Henry or Jackson to come help look for her? The snow is already sticking pretty bad.”
“Yeah, you better call them both. I’ll change clothes and saddle up. If there are three or more of us looking, we shouldn’t have any trouble finding her before it gets dark. Did she say when she might be back?”
“No, but she was in a hurry, and she had a big bag of stuff with her. I don’t think she was planning to picnic, though. We talked about the storm coming.”
Wayne stopped long enough to kiss his girls, then he disappeared upstairs to change his clothes. Geneva looked out the window. “Oh, I wish you had another horse! I should have gone looking for her when it started to snow. Now I am no use to you at all!”
“Shut up, Geneva. You need to take care of yourself. You can’t go riding those trails when they are slippery.” Rachel looked at her sternly before glancing out the window. “Oh! Here comes Sally Beth! And boy, is she moving fast!” They both bolted out the back door in time to see their cousin pushing Fairhope hard across the field to the west. She galloped right up to the back porch and reined in hard, leaping off his back and rushing up the steps.
Sally Beth, white with terror underneath the chill on her cheeks, her hair wind-whipped and tangled, grabbed Geneva by the shoulders. “Geneva, Holy Miracle is real sick! He is unconscious, and I cain’t bring him to! We got to get to him! Oh Geneva, Rachel! I think he’s dying!” She dashed away a tear that streaked down her cheek and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Geneva had never seen the usually composed and polished Sally Beth look so disheveled or upset.
Wayne appeared on the porch. “Where is he, Sally Beth?” asked Wayne.
“About three miles from here, up past Jacob’s Mountain. He lives in a cave there, and, oh, Wayne! He’s real bad! I tried to get him down to the horse, but he passed out, and it was all I could do to get him back in out of the snow and warm him up!” Her eyes were eloquent in their pleading. “Oh, please hurry! I think he’s dying!”
Wayne turned away from her to think. “I don’t know how we can get up there and get him out with horses, if he can’t ride. Maybe we could make a litter…”
“Oh, no! You have to go up over the rocks there. The horses cain’t even make it, you have to walk the last half mile. You’ll have to carry him out. Or get a helicopter! Oh, Wayne! Get a helicopter! Oh, please!” She was fighting hard to hold back the tears.
Wayne looked at her closely. “What does he look like, Sally Beth? Is he hurt? Anything broken? Bleeding anywhere?”
“No, he’s just sick!” He’s real pale and skinny, and he’s cold! I was taking him some clothes and food ‘cause I knew the storm was comin’, but when I got there he was just layin’ on his bed and shiverin’, and I got some soup into him, and then I tried to get him out to the horse, but I could only get him partway down and he just passed out on me. It took me forever to get him back up over the rocks and into the cave. He’s real sick, Wayne!” Sally Beth ended with a sob.
Geneva was taken aback. Sally Beth knew where Holy Miracle Jones lived? She had merely caught the barest glimpses of him on dappled summer days. Why did Holy Miracle let Sally Beth share the remote corners of his life, and not her or Rachel? Geneva had never worried much about his physical comforts; it had never crossed her mind to deliberately take supplies to fortify against the cold. A momentary stab of jealousy pierced her, and then waves of guilt cascaded and foamed. She stared at her cousin, wondering about this girl who nearly everyone had considered insignificant, and she was ashamed. Holy Miracle saw something in her that no one else, including Geneva, had, and Holy Miracle’s eyes looked deep.
“Okay,” Wayne was saying. “The hospital at Tucker doesn’t have a helicopter, but I have a friend over in Harrisonburg who has one, and he was a medic in the army. If I can get in touch with him, maybe he will fly out here. I’m sure he can land it on the bald there on Jacob’s Mountain if he can fly in this storm. Rachel, you call Jackson and Uncle Henry, and tell them to bring the horses. I don’t suppose John is back yet, is he?”
“No. He’s due back tomorrow, I think,” Geneva said as Rachel went back inside to make the calls.
Wayne paused to think. “The chopper is too small to carry more than the pilot and one crew member with a patient on board. I’ll ride out with Uncle Henry, and hopefully, Jackson can come, too. We’ll ride as far as we can, and between us, we can carry him. You say the cave is about a mile from the bald, Sally Beth?”
“Yeah, but there is another flat, bald patch jist above his cave. Don’t helicopters have a litter? You could just have them lower it and put him in it right at his cave. You won’t have to carry him so far.”
“Good thinking, Sally Beth. But we’ll have a hard time finding the place. If we have the chopper come here first, James, my friend, can land in the field and you can ride with him to show him the way. Once Uncle Henry and Jackson get here, we’ll head on out. Geneva, will you go saddle up Redneck and help Sally Beth put Fairhope back in the stall? I’ll go put on my boots and call James.”
“Wait!” exclaimed Geneva. “Who knows when Uncle Henry can get here? If it’s only three miles, Fairhope isn’t tired, and you and I can go ahead.”
Wayne hesitated, then nodded. “That’s not a bad idea. We could head out now, and it might make a difference if we can get there quickly. The others can catch up. Sally Beth, get Fairhope warmed up, and give him some water. And saddle up Redneck for me.” Rachel appeared at the door.
“I can’t get hold of anybody,” she informed them. “Absolutely no one is at home, or at least not answering the phone. I even called Daddy, but they aren’t answering either. I’m betting everybody is out tending to livestock right now. What do you think we should do, Wayne?” she asked her husband.
“Geneva and I are going on. We shouldn’t lose any time, and if you can reach anybody, send them on after us.” Rachel started to speak, but Geneva broke in. “I’m going, Rachel,” she said through tight lips. But when she saw the worry in her sister’s eyes, she softened. “And don’t worry, I’ll be careful,” she added. “I know how to ride in the snow.”
Rachel narrowed her eyes. “There’s ice underneath the snow,” she began, but Wayne broke in.
“It would be helpful if she came along. If we take off right now, it might make a critical difference. The others can catch up, if they can even travel in this storm.” He looked apologetic. “If it doesn’t let up, the chopper won’t fly, and I don’t even know when or if James can come, and the others may not be able to get out, either. And if the storm doesn’t let up, we may not be able to get him out. I’m going to need help if he’s as bad as Sally Beth thinks. I’d feel better if she comes.” He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Will you go help Sally Beth with the horses?”
Rachel glared at him, then at her sister. “You both had better be careful!” was all she said before she turned on her heel, and brushing roughly past Wayne, followed Sally Beth to the barn.
Not long afterward, Rachel and Sally Beth led the horses back to the house, where Wayne and Geneva were prepared to ride. Wayne hurriedly added supplies to his medical kit. “I got hold of James,” he said. “It isn’t snowing at Harrisonburg. He said he will come, but he can’t fly here until there is a break in the storm, and I don’t know how long that will be. We need to get there as soon as we can. Holy Miracle might not make it without some intervention. Rachel, keep trying. Get anybody you can to meet us up there in case we have trouble. We’ll see you there, Sally Beth.”
Rachel nodded and turned slowly back to the door. Suddenly, she spun back and hugged Wayne tightly, and then Geneva. “You be careful!” Geneva could see the sudden redness bloom around Rachel’s eyes and felt a tug of tender remorse for her sister. She was glad she was going, and not having to sit at home, impotently waiting for others to rescue Holy Miracle.
“God bless you! And hurry!” said Sally Beth. She wrung her hands and added, “Please don’t let him die!” as Wayne boosted Geneva into the saddle, then sprang onto Redneck’s back. The two were off into the face of the angry snow, disappearing into the white violence within seconds.
The going was rough. Wayne rode ahead at first, but after a few minutes, he fell back and offered to let Geneva go ahead. “I can’t really see much in this. You know the way better than I do. Do you think you can find it okay?”
“Yeah,” replied Geneva grimly and moved in the lead position, carefully picking her way through the snow-crusted grass. They had not begun moving uphill yet, and it was harder to know the right direction with such poor visibility as they moved across the pasture. It could be difficult to find the trailhead leading up to Jacob’s Mountain. After a few minutes, Geneva was relieved to see a line of trees. Now it was just a matter of picking her way along the edge of the forest until the trail presented itself.
“It will be along here somewhere,” she called back to Wayne. “Keep a lookout for that big willow oak, and watch out for the creek. If we get to it, we’ve come too far and we will have to backtrack a little ways.” The wind was howling by this time, and Wayne rode closer.
“I couldn’t hear you. Do you know where you are?”
“Wait! There’s the oak. The trail should start just up here.” She nudged Fairhope forward, and Wayne followed closely.
The trail opened to them with a tenuous hope. Now it was just a matter of staying on it, up past the laurel field, beside the ravine, and then over the top of the bald. Geneva said a little prayer, and confidence filled her. Yes, God would help them, she thought, settling back and letting Fairhope have his head, for she knew that the horse could keep to the trail better than she could.
It was bitterly cold. Geneva pulled her scarf up around her mouth and her hat down low on her head. Her hands were cold inside the leather gloves, but her seat was warm from Fairhope’s steaming back. A rush of love for the steady horse came over her, and she uttered a hymn of thanksgiving for his sure-footedness. Then she offered another prayer for Wayne who was riding the much more spirited Redneck.
It occurred to her that Redneck did not like not being behind, and he was likely to nudge and nip Fairhope if they were not moving fast enough to suit him. That would be a danger when they came to the path along the ravine. She shuddered, remembering another narrow path perched above an abyss on that awful day three months ago, and the sight of Jimmy Lee disappearing silently into the mist after she had bumped into him.
She began to wish she had been the one to take the fall, but soon realized that she might have missed the solid ground and fallen to her death, and that would have meant the death of this baby. Why had it happened the way it did? Had God had a hand in that? Maybe at the very moment when Jimmy Lee fell, a tiny cluster of cells was attaching themselves to the wall of Geneva’s womb. Maybe that baby was the reason she had lived through the ordeal of the moment, of the ordeal of the boar. She smiled, imagining a guardian angel standing sentry over that little speck of life. Surely God had plans for this little one. He or she—certainly a she—females outnumbered males in the family by about twenty to one. Yes, she had started life against terrifying odds, and still hung on. Already, she felt a swell of pride for this tenacious little being. A tough little survivor! Maybe she would name her Boudicca, after the warrior queen who wouldn’t give up, even in the teeth of the Roman army.
Pulling aside, she called back to Wayne. “You’d better go ahead for awhile. The ravine is just up ahead, and Redneck might get pushy. Unless you want to switch horses.”
“No, I’m good. The snow seems to be slacking off a little, and I can see better. It occurred to me back there that I should just give him his head anyway. He’s smarter than I am.”
Geneva laughed, “I came to the same conclusion. Made it a lot easier, didn’t it?”
Wayne did not need to nudge Redneck. As soon as the gelding saw an opening ahead, he lunged for it, brushing Geneva as he trotted by. It would not be long now. The worst of the trail lay just ahead. Again she prayed for their safety, for the safety of the baby, for Holy Miracle who lay shivering behind a black fold in the granite above them.
Redneck paused as he considered his first steps onto the slender collar along the neck of the ravine. Geneva held her breath as his front hoof slid slightly on the ice beneath the snow, but then he steadied and began picking his way carefully upward. This ledge was much wider than the one that had failed Jimmy Lee, but still, one slippery patch could mean a serious tumble down the mountain. She waited for a moment before following, not sure that Fairhope would be a gentleman, docilely following Redneck’s rear as the wind howled and the snow stung the eyes. She felt her own eyes filling with tears, and she squeezed her lids against the brutal, icy flakes.
She looked down the side of the mountain. Here was the place Rachel had slipped and fallen those many years ago and broken her arm. She wondered if Holy Miracle and his father had seen her lose her footing and slide, or if they had happened upon her after Geneva had gone for help. If they had witnessed her fall, why had they waited for Geneva to leave before they rescued Rachel? She shook her head. All this time she had assumed they shunned all outsiders, but Holy Miracle had let Sally Beth know where he lived, had let her into the confines of his personal life. Her own brief moments with him when he had given her his cryptic insights had seemed like precious treasures to her. How much more had he given to Sally Beth? What was it about that girl that made her special to him?
The path curved upward into the last patch of pines just below Jacob’s Bald. They made their way through the restless trees, then picked a careful path through the heath, and then they found themselves exposed on the empty, high meadow. Here was the spot where Holy Miracle had blessed her and the Holy Spirit had descended upon Geneva that bright October day. She had been back twice since then, and each time, she had felt the Presence hovering nearby, filling her with peace. Even today, with the snow coming down into the devouring cold, the place felt serene. The wind sang hymns to her in deep harmony with the earth and sky. She pulled up alongside Wayne.
“Do you feel that?” she asked him. “Does it feel like God lives here to you?”
“Oh, yes,” replied Wayne. “There is no question this is holy ground.”
“As am I,” smiled Geneva.
“What?”
In October, when I came here and Holy Miracle blessed me, he asked God to make me ‘holy ground.’”
“We all should be so blessed.”
They turned west, toward the cliffs that towered beyond Jacob’s Bald. The storm picked up, howling through the empty space around them, and the horses put their heads down and pushed against the wind. Yet, despite the storm and the snow, Geneva felt at peace, guided and protected. They rode within the silent, white shell of their own thoughts.
At length, Wayne said, “Come on. I see the cliffs up ahead,” as he gave Redneck a slap. They broke into a fast trot across the snow blanketing the sleeping meadow. Riding fast to the edge of the field and over a rise, they came upon a tumble of boulders as high as a man, piled thickly at the base of a sheer cliff.
“She said there was a path off to the left here,” Wayne said, pausing to pull out two flashlights. He handed one to Geneva, who switched hers on, but it did nothing to help with visibility. The beam bounced helplessly off the veil of snow streaming from the sky. Geneva took the lead, knowing that Wayne would have difficulty seeing with his less-than-perfect eyesight. Carefully, they scanned the ground as they wound their way around the base of the cliff, but all they could see were the impossible obstacles. They continued alongside the boulders, searching for a break.
At last, Geneva found it. They had walked in a wide arc beneath the cliffs, and just as they rounded a corner, the rocks suddenly gave way to a wide trail bordered by brooding pines. It led them back up behind the wall of boulders, then narrowed and cut its way upward. When it became impossible for the horses to advance further, they dismounted and led them back into the safety of the trees, where they unsaddled and draped blankets over the animals, then they tied the reins to trees and turned back to challenge the rocky ascent on foot. It was rough and steep, and the footing was precarious. Before long, they had to pull themselves upward on hands and knees, and the arduous climb into the face of the buffeting wind exhausted them quickly. Geneva’s tired body gasped for oxygen in the thin air as she pulled herself forward and upward, and her lungs ached as they drew in the icy wind. She thought of her baby and placed her hands and feet more carefully. Thankfully, this part of the trail ran no more than a hundred feet, and before too long, they found themselves in a narrow space close to the face of the cliff, suspended high up in the air with the snow swirling around them and nothing but white death below them.
The wall of rock gaped at her left, and the path backtracked into a deeper gloom before disappearing into a black hole inside the cliff. “I think this is it,” she called over her shoulder.
“Wait!” he called from behind. “Sally Beth said to be very careful at the entrance. She said there’s a big dip in the floor at the extreme left, and she has nearly broken her leg a dozen times going through.” He moved ahead of her to enter the dark slash in the wall first.
A dozen times? How many times has she been here? thought Geneva. She brushed aside the ever-present feeling of jealousy and guilt.
“Right in through here. Yeah, it’s pretty bad. Just stay right.”
They stepped around a rocky breach in the floor of the cave and could see a comfortable wide space opening up to the beams of their flashlights. A pale, rosy light glowed from not far into the interior. A few more paces led them into the space where they found Holy Miracle lying on a narrow bed, his thin body barely visible under a pile of blankets. A fire burned low in a rough fireplace tucked into an alcove beside him. Wayne dropped to his knees to examine the unconscious old man. “See if you can get the fire built up. We need to get him as warm as we can,” he said as he checked his pulse and temperature and pulled up an eyelid, shining the light into the sightless eyes. Then he looked at his gums. Finally, he pulled out a blood pressure cuff from his bag and strapped it onto a thin, pale arm.
Geneva piled wood onto the fire, then, remembering Howard’s ministrations to her when she was cold and ill, she looked for jars to fill with water to warm him. She found none, so she placed rocks near the coals, taking care not to get them too close, for she knew they could explode if they got too hot. Then she took a pot outside to scoop up snow and hung it over the fire to make coffee.
When she was certain there was nothing more she could do to help, she gave herself the luxury of looking around at this secret place, the home that had sheltered Holy Miracle and most likely his father all these many years. It looked almost like a real home, not exactly what one would expect from a hermit’s cave. There were actual furnishings, and even a sort of rug made of burlap sacks on the floor. The bed upon which Holy Miracle lay was made of tree limbs and lined with straw ticking. Tree stumps served as stools, and in the corner, a couch made of bent and twisted willow boughs sat covered with another straw tick. A rough table filled a good portion of the middle of the room, and a bookcase made of slabs of coarse wood held a small assortment of ragged volumes. The tidy fire pit and a good supply of cut firewood took up most of one wall. Geneva could see a hole higher up that served as a chimney, and the smoke curled upward and out into the night rather than escaping into the cavern. It was cozy, she thought, and clean, and homey, and for a moment, she envisioned another place with a table and stools made of tree stumps and a bed filled with fragrant herbs. The hollowness of her loss saddened her beyond description.
“How is he?” she asked.
“He’s unconscious, and he’s in shock, but there’s no fever, so it doesn’t seem that there is infection anywhere,” he replied as he pulled a bottle of clear liquid from his bag and tied it to the tree limb that served as a kind of bedpost. “Come hold this flashlight for me. I’m going to give him some Ringer’s lactate, and it’s going to be hard to find a vein.”
Geneva moved to Holy Miracle’s bed and shone the light as Wayne searched both arms for a visible vein. He was extremely pale, and she could see tiny red spots and larger bruises on the inside of his arm. “What are those?” she asked.
“Petechiae. That’s little dots of blood under the skin. His blood vessels are leaking, and that’s led to acute anemia.” He picked up Holy Miracle’s hand. “I might find a vein here. Now, get me sterilized. He’s so low, an infection would kill him. Pour some alcohol on my hands. All right, good. Now break open that package and hand me some gauze.” Geneva ripped open the packet to remove several squares of gauze. “That’s good, now pour some more alcohol on that, and—be careful not to touch it—open that package with a needle in it. And see that tubing? I need that, too.”
Geneva carefully followed his instructions. Presently, Wayne had pierced the back of Holy Miracle’s hand with a needle and had hooked up the IV solution. Geneva moved to the fire, and wearing her insulated gloves, scraped rocks onto some of the sacking. “Here,” she said. “You can warm him up with these.” She wrapped them tightly and handed them to Wayne.
“That’s great. If we can warm him up, it will help.” He tucked the rocks around Holy Miracle exactly where Howard had tucked mason jars around her to warm her on that cold, rainy night. Then he sat back and waited.
“What’s wrong with him?” asked Geneva.
“Not sure, but my guess is some bone marrow disorder that is causing anemia. He’s bleeding internally, and I see some evidence of bleeding in his gums, but I don’t see any other bloody discharge. See, here’s a bowl where Sally Beth fed him soup, so he has some liquid in him, and there is no vomit, no blood. Everything around here is clean. But it looks like he needs a blood transfusion.” He looked at Geneva sadly, “Honey, we may not be able to save him. I don’t know when that chopper will get here, and I don’t know if he can last through the night. And even if he does live, the long-term prognosis doesn’t look good. I’m thinking myeloblastic anemia or leukemia, and both are pretty much fatal at his age.” He paused before adding gently, “And neither is going to be pleasant for him. He probably is ready to go.”
Geneva squeezed her eyelids against the tears. “I’m so glad you’re here, Wayne,” she said, grateful for her brother-in-law’s skills and his compassion. If Holy Miracle were to die here tonight, she was glad to know everything possible had been done to save him. She grasped the old man’s hand. It was cold, except where it had lain against a warm rock. “Holy Miracle, please just hang on a while longer,” she whispered to him. She didn’t know why she so desperately wanted him to live if only to face a protracted dying. Maybe she needed to have time to let him go, or maybe she didn’t want to let Sally Beth down. Whatever it was, she prayed with all her soul that he should at least last until they had a chance to say goodbye.
They passed the evening murmuring softly so as not to disturb the stillness of the place or Holy Miracle’s slumber. It was comfortable here in the cave, with the gentle color of the firelight flickering against the walls of the granite and the wind humming in the distance. The place was warm and dry, and Geneva could not help but think of the cave that Howard had shown her. Wondering if there were cave paintings in here as well, she wandered into the interior with her flashlight and there found, not ancient paintings, but evidence of years of Pwyll and Holy Miracle.
There were drawings of trees and flowers, and of angels, and pictures of what might be heaven. Further in, a steaming pool of still water filled most of a room. Skirting it, she stepped close to the walls ringing it and saw that lines of scripture were etched into the smooth stone. In one section, a good portion of the Psalms graced the rock surface, and in another, nearly the whole of the epistle of First John. She traced her finger along the words of certainty and love.
And this the message we have heard from Him and announce to you, that God is light, and in Him there is no darkness at all.
Later, in another section, she found this from Peter:
“This is my beloved Son with whom I am well-pleased.” And we ourselves heard this utterance made from heaven when we were with Him on the holy mountain. And so we have the prophetic word made more sure, to which you do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star arises in your hearts.
Geneva’s heart felt peace stir and eddy upwards as the holy words permeated her being. Holy Miracle surely would not live long, but she was certain that death would not fully claim his flesh tonight, and it would never claim his soul. His voice would live long enough to give her one last blessing, and his spirit would rise to live forever. And she would see him again one day in the fullness of perfect health. She smiled and turned back to the fire and humanity.
Wayne had settled himself beside the bed, his head leaning back against the lumpy mattress. He smiled at Geneva as she came into the light. “Have a nice explore?”
“Yes. This cave is full of Scripture. Holy Miracle has been here a long time, and probably his father, too. You should go back there and see it.”
“I’d like to, but I don’t want to leave him. He might wake up, or I might need to resuscitate him.”
She nodded and sat down beside him. He sighed and stirred. “Wonder what Rachel is doing right now?”
“Probably on her knees, praying for us. You know she’s worried. I’m so glad I am here, knowing as much as there is to know about the situation, and not stuck at home, worrying about the unknown.”
“Yeah, it’s tough, being a woman. I’m very selfishly glad I am a man, getting to be the one who goes out, has the adventures, when women have to stay home and do the really hard part—waiting and tending and just being patient.”
“Wait a minute,” Geneva flared. “A woman can do anything a man can do. This is nineteen seventy-seven, Wayne. Things have changed.”
“Not that much, and especially here. Women can do anything a man can do, but in rural West Virginia, they may not, if you understand your grammar school use of the words.”
“Like what? Look at Dianne, running the theater, and there’s…” she stopped, realizing she had run out of examples.
“Yes, ‘there’s…’ exactly,” he said, waving his hand vaguely. “And it’s not really just here. There were only two women in my class in medical school, and everybody gave them a hard time. Some of the professors flat-out told them they were taking up space that would be better used by men who wouldn’t drop out of the profession to have children.”
Geneva fell silent. She had to admit that the world still placed limits on women. Even in DC, she had gotten her job only because her boss was a rabid feminist who had lobbied hard to hire a woman.
Wayne continued, “Just last month we interviewed an excellent nurse practitioner who was really pretty and not married, and my director didn’t want to hire her because he was afraid she was wanting the job just so she could find herself a doctor for a husband. He actually said she would be trouble if she were on staff. If that had been a man, his being single or good looking wouldn’t have been an issue.”
Geneva swallowed the lump of desolation she felt rising in her throat. How was she going to make a living for this baby if she were not able to find a job? Even in DC, it would be difficult to raise a baby by herself, and she knew in the core of her heart she wanted her child to live here, among her own people, among her own hills and clouds and rocks. She did not know how to answer Wayne, and she wondered if he would remember this conversation when he found out about the baby. She rose. “I think I’ll go get a breath of air. You okay? Can I get you anything? Coffee?”
“No, I’m fine. Don’t fall off the cliff. I don’t feel like rescuing anyone else tonight.”
“I’ll be careful.” She threw another log onto the fire and put on her coat and gloves, then moved toward the entrance to the cave. Darkness had completely enveloped the face of the mountain, but the snow and wind had stopped, and the stars spilled into the now-clear night sky in riotous exuberance. Breathing in the frigid air, she looked upward as her hand found its way to the pendant she wore around her neck, and she grasped it tightly, comforted by its warmth as she scanned the sky in the hopes of seeing a shooting star. The spangled heavens looked back at her, silent, still, and cold, with no echo of her hope. Yet, although she was alone, with the little gold comet resting within her fingers, imbuing her with an optimism she should not feel, she was not lonely. Love has a way of filling in gaps, she thought, as she leaned her head against the cold stone.
Thank you, Lord, for the life of Holy Miracle, and for saving him, at least for now. And thank you for Wayne. Please let Holy Miracle live long enough so that he can say goodbye to Sally Beth. And then, unbidden, her thoughts rode across the mountaintops, leaping through the ebony and silver night to Howard. She imagined him coming to rescue her, of finding her in this snug cave, and they would stay and live here by this holy mountain, far from the tarnished world, and raise their child in peace and ever-present love, free from pain or want. Then she scolded herself for her vain foolishness. Howard had chosen not to love her, and she should accept that. Please God, take this impossible desire from me. Let me be content with what I have, with Your love, with this child. Help me to find my own way, to lose my hopes for Howard.
A reply came in rhythm with the throbbing of the stars: For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so my ways are higher than your ways, and my thoughts higher than your thoughts… For you will go out with joy, and be led forth with peace; the mountains and the hills will break forth into shouts of joy before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands. She smiled despite the wounding loss that pulsed through her veins and her heart. Her joy lay just under her belly button.
The distant whine of a motor came to her on the wind, and she strained to listen. Yes, the sound of the approaching helicopter. She turned and rushed back into the cave.
“Wayne,” she whispered, motioning to her brother-in-law. “The chopper is coming!”
He was on his feet immediately, flashlight in hand, and they rushed outside. Standing at the entrance, perched high above the wild tumble of boulders, they waved their lights at the approaching bird.
There was no hesitation. The pilot easily skimmed over their heads and landed in the flat space twenty feet above them. Within seconds, they saw two flashlights waving beams at them. “Hey!” came Sally Beth’s voice.
“Hey!” yelled Wayne back. Can you make it down here?
Sally Beth’s voice came from the distance. “No, there isn’t a path. We’re jist gonna lower the litter down, and you’ll need to put him on it.”
A man’s voice broke in. “Hey, buddy.”
“James. Thank you for coming. I owe you.”
“Nah. I think this is just a payback for what I owe you. Is he stable?”
“Yes,” Wayne shouted back, “but his vitals are weak, and he needs more Ringer’s lactate right away. And oxygen. Do you have that on board?”
“I’ve got ‘em both, and we’ll get to the hospital pretty quick. Your wife is one smart cookie. She called the ER and had Sally Beth talk to the attending, and they are going to be ready for him.”
“That’s great. Shall I come back with you?”
“No, I don’t have the equipment to get you up here without jury-rigging the harness. Actually, the harness is jury-rigged to get this gurney in place, and it will take too long to get it back to normal. Don’t worry. I may be retired, but I know how to take care of a patient in the field. Now, I have to get airborne before I can lower the stretcher, else we’re likely to damage it. Then I’ll land again and take care of him. You ready?”
“Ready! Bring her down!”
There were a few moments of silence, then came the sound of the helicopter’s engine firing up. It flew straight up, and presently, an object descended from it. Geneva and Wayne reached over the abyss to pull a litter in and settle it on the ground in front of the cave, and Wayne uncoupled the lines while Geneva held it steady. “Let’s get him out here!” he shouted above the roar of the chopper. Working quickly, they carried the gurney and, running into the cave with it, gently lifted the old man onto it and brought him back outside, where Wayne secured the harness again and waved his flashlight. The pilot switched on the winching system, and Holy Miracle rose into the black sky, into the piercing lights beyond, as if he were being taken up into heaven. The helicopter sailed upward and landed again, then after a few minutes, James called out, “Okay, all secure, and I have the IV going. He’s warm, and bp and pulse are not too far out of range. Don’t worry, we’ll get him there.”
“Thank you, James! I probably won’t be able to get there tonight, but I sure appreciate this. I owe you a hunting trip!”
“I’ll collect next fall! See you!”
“Bye! Thank yew!” shouted Sally Beth. The motor started up, and the chopper took off.
They watched the lights ascend and move off to the east. Within moments, Geneva and Wayne found themselves alone in the still, spangled night in front of the holy cave.
“That’s it,” said Wayne. “Time to pack up and get out of here.”