Wings Of The Dawn

by Tracie Peterson

  The last conscious thought Erik had was of the clock chiming three times. He fell asleep with his head on the kitchen table, only inches from where his sister dozed. His dreams were nightmares of confusion. He pictured Cheryl in a cage, dangling over a bottomless abyss. He couldn’t reach her, and the hopelessness of the situation made him frantic.

  At the sound of a car door slamming, he jumped. Unsure if he’d dreamed the noise, he glanced to where Christy had bolted upright. Apparently the sound had been real.

  “What time is it?” Christy asked, getting to her feet.

  Erik jumped up, his heart pounding fiercely against his chest. He glanced at his watch. “Five-thirty.”

  They hesitated at the table, their eyes asking the unspoken question of whether they dared look outside. The sound of another car door had them both running for the front door.

  Christy beat him and threw the door open with such force that it banged against the wall, breaking the silence of the moment. They moved across the threshold and out on the porch to find Cheryl and Curt coming up the walkway.

  Christy let out a shout and rushed down the porch stairs. Cheryl stepped aside as Christy threw herself into her husband’s arms. “You’re here! You’re safe!” She was crying, sobbing, and kissing him all at once. Curt wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair.

  Erik held back. Shoving his hands in his jeans’ pockets, he ex-changed a look with Cheryl that spoke volumes. Curt and Christy moved up the stairs, and as they passed him, Curt leaned toward Erik.

  “I told her you had something to say.” He winked and went inside the house with his sobbing wife.

  Cheryl came up the stairs rather hesitantly. She searched his face as though looking for an answer to some unspoken question. Erik could no longer hold back. He crossed the short space and pulled her into a fierce embrace. For a fleeting moment, he thought she might fight him, but instead she only maneuvered her arms in order to wrap them around his neck.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered against her hair.

  “I know,” she answered softly. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

  For several minutes they did nothing but hold each other. It’s enough, Erik thought. It was enough to know that she was safe and that God had answered all of his prayers.

  He pulled away gently and looked down at her. The tightness of her worried expression softened, and she smiled. “Are you really okay?” he asked, fearful of the answer.

  “I’m better than that. I…well…” She glanced away. “There are some things I want to tell you.”

  “Me, too,” Erik said. “There’s a porch swing on the east side. Why don’t we go sit there and watch the sun come up?”

  Cheryl nodded her approval and let Erik lead her past the front door and around the side of the stately Victorian home. Erik waited for her to take a seat before joining her. He didn’t care what she thought as he put his arm around her shoulders and gave a little tug. Cheryl willingly snuggled down against his shoulder, tucking her head under his chin.

  “I love you,” he whispered, feeling his heart in his throat. He waited for her to tense, but she didn’t. “I think I’ve loved you for a very long time now.” He hoped she’d say something, but she didn’t. Maybe it’s too soon, he thought. Maybe she will never allow herself to love again.

  “Look,” he said softly. “I just wanted you to know how I felt. I know you’ve gone through a great deal. I guess I just want you to know that when you’re ready to love again, I’m here waiting.”

  Cheryl moved away from him and eased back against the swing. She looked out across the yard before allowing her gaze to rest on his face. “I thought I was going to die,” she said simply. “I found myself alone and terrified, and I kept thinking about what you and CJ had told me about God.”

  Erik grinned. “I wasn’t sure you were listening.”

  Cheryl countered his smile. “I was listening.” She grew sober. “I listened just enough to make myself think, and unfortunately at that time, thinking was the last thing I wanted to do. There were already too many things to think about. Grant. My father. The baby. Not to mention everything else related to the last year and a half of my life.

  “I wanted to pretend that I could make it all go away. That nothing need ever hurt me again. I wanted to believe that I was alone, because that way I didn’t need to worry about feeling anything for anyone.”

  “But you weren’t alone,” Erik said softly.

  “No, I wasn’t. I know that now. I found it out while I was waiting in the back of my kidnappers’ van.”

  Erik shook his head. “What happened?”

  “I realized that God really was Who you said He was. I wasn’t sure how to go about getting Him on my side or putting myself on His side, but I prayed. I really, honestly prayed, and it gave me the courage to go on.”

  Erik reached out and squeezed her hand. “That’s more than I’d ever hoped to hear.”

  She smiled and nodded her head. “It was more than I’d ever thought possible. I came to realize while I was there, stuck in the middle of nowhere with little hope of escaping, that God was truly there for me. Then I started thinking back to other times in my life when God must have stood by, watching me make my mistakes, knowing that I was too stubborn to be reached any other way. I knew then that He’d been there all along. Even when I was in the pits of despair. Even when I’d made the wrong choices with Grant. God was always there.”

  Erik quoted the verses from Psalm 139: “ ‘Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.’”

  “Yes,” she whispered, and the look she gave him caused his heart to soar. “I tried to flee from God’s presence, and believe me, I made my bed in the depths.” She lowered her face. “I’m not proud of who I am, Erik.”

  “But you should be,” he said softly. “You’re a child of God. Forgiven and purified by the blood Jesus shed on the cross. He took your sins, yours and mine, and sacrificed His life to reconcile us with God. Give Him the past and console yourself in the fact that He blots out your sins and remembers them no more.”

  “I like that idea,” she said, twisting her hands in her lap. “But, Erik, the past is hard to forget. There are people who will no doubt help me to remember it on a daily basis.”

  “Probably. But there are those of us—me, for instance—who don’t care about the past. We’re far more interested in the future and what it might hold in store. The past only entangles us, and Satan uses that to steal away our victory in Christ. The future is our hope in God’s ability to take us out of Satan’s snares, and the present is where we must act in faith to believe He will do just that.”

  “And you can forget the past? Forget that I was adulterous with your sister’s husband? Forget that I would have borne him an illegitimate child? Can you forget my part in this entire nightmare and still love me? That seems an awful lot to ask.”

  “But in Christ,” he said softly, feeling the pain in her words, “all things are possible, and in Christ, all things are made new. You are a new creation, Cheryl. Why should I condemn you for that which you’ve thrown off?”

  She moved back into his arms and laid her head back until they were cheek to cheek. Together they watched the sky lighten. The colorful fingers of dawn spread out in a blend of lavender, pink, and orange. It was a moment Erik always hoped to remember. A moment that bound them to one another. He would wait forever for her to love him.

  Without warning, she got to her feet and looked back at him. “I’m ready,” she said softly and extended her hand.

  Erik’s sense of hope fell hard. He got to his feet and reached into his jeans’ pocket to retrieve his car keys. She, no doubt, wanted to go home. He pulled the keys out, but, to his surprise, Cheryl
pushed them away and instead reached up to touch his cheek.

  “No,” she whispered. “I meant that I’m ready to fall in love with you.”

  Erik couldn’t believe his ears. The keys dropped noisily to the porch floor. “You…mean it?”

  Cheryl nodded, her eyes bright and clear. “I think I’ve been falling in love with you ever since you showed up at my door with your roguish grin and boyish charms. Facing death made me rethink a few things.”

  “Like what?” he questioned, gingerly touching her face. He was almost afraid it was an illusion. Her soft skin against his fingers convinced him that it wasn’t.

  “Things like…us. You made me feel whole. You helped me to see hope when I had none. You gave me love when no one else could reach me.”

  Erik pulled her against him, and with one arm around her waist, he lifted her face to meet his. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Me neither,” she whispered.

  He wanted to kiss her, to feel the soft sweetness of her lips against his. He lowered his head to meet her mouth, then hesitated, waiting a moment, as if for permission. Her eyes told him everything. He saw in their blue depths the desire and longing that seemed to mirror his own emotions. Pressing his mouth to hers, he felt her melt against him and sigh. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed him closer.

  Erik wanted to yell out loud, and when he released her, he did just that.

  “I love you, Cheryl Fairchild!” he exclaimed and lifted her into the air to circle round and round with her.

  She giggled as he had never heard her do before. There was a definite joy returning to her life, and he thanked God that he could be part of it. He kissed her again.

  This time the kiss lingered, and afterward, they simply held each other in the quiet of the morning. Erik felt as though nothing in life could be better. His emotions ran rampant, and his heart seemed to soar on the wings of the dawn. The chains of the past were broken, and now the future could begin.

  With thanks to Steve DeWolf,

  who took me flying in his Stearman biplane

  one beautiful Dallas morning and

  who inadvertently taught me that often in life

  you only get to answer yes or no.

  Tracie Peterson is an award-winning, bestselling author of over 85 books. Making her home in Montana, this Kansas native enjoys spending time with family. She’s active in her church as the Director of Women’s Ministries, coordinates a yearly writer’s retreat for published authors, and travels, as time permits, to research her books.