by JoAnn Durgin
“Give me your hand!” Stretching out over the creek as far as possible, he extended his hand. Beck tried, but shook her head and sank a little further into the water. His foot slid on the ice on the frozen creek bank, and he muttered a few choice words under his breath. He’d ask forgiveness later. Inhaling a deep, calming breath, Marc secured his foothold as best he could as he stepped closer to the edge. He couldn’t go much further. It was dangerous enough as it was, but this was where his baseball skills might come in handy.
Reach. Stretch. Lengthen the muscles, Thompson. Contact! He probably should have fallen in that creek, but Someone kept him steady. Losing her grip, Beck slipped back into the water. To his immense horror, Marc saw her eyes rolling to the back of her head. She was losing consciousness. “Beck, stay with me!”
Lord, please. You can’t let her die. Give me strength. Help me know what to do.
He had to try another tact. Although he’d never been a pitcher, he had decent aim, and prayed his throwing arm wouldn’t fail him now.
You and me, Lord. Here goes.
He quickly tossed the other end of the rope in Beck’s direction. Miraculously, it landed exactly where he needed it—over her head, but with enough give for him to maneuver it under her left arm. Springing into action, every second precious, Marc pulled. He was rewarded when she slowly emerged from the water. Grunting with the effort, he grasped her hand and tugged her toward him with every ounce of strength he possessed, using long-forgotten muscles.
Beck’s body temperature was so low she couldn’t move, her limbs frozen. She looked up at him in a helpless stupor as he half-pulled, half-dragged her up onto the creek bank. Removing the rope, he scooped her into his arms. Beck was so cold, her long legs stiff, she wouldn’t be able to get up, much less sit upright on her own. Of course, she had to be the tallest woman in the camp, at least five-foot-ten.
For a few seconds, he stared at Dandelion, trying to figure out what to do next. Beck moaned, those green eyes fading fast. He somehow had to get her to the main house. Mounting the horse, he managed to pull her upright, positioning her in front of him. He’d never be able to explain it other than it was the Lord’s hand guiding him, giving him superhuman strength. Time was of the essence.
“Hold on, Beck,” Marc whispered in one frozen ear as he commanded Dandelion to take them as fast as she could back to safety, back to warmth, back to the ranch and their loving friends. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter 33
“Natalie, a word, please?”
She turned away from the kitchen door, her heart rate picking up speed. “Sure, Sam.” This had to be about Marc since the two had been nearly inseparable the last few days.
Leading the way to a corner of the large family room, Sam sat in the rocker and pulled it close to where she sat on the edge of the sofa. He put one hand over hers for a brief moment and squeezed. “Even if you don’t remember, I’m sure you’ve learned I’m a pretty straightforward man. I hope you understand we’re all here to help.”
Tears stung her eyes. “Of course. I appreciate the sacrifice you, Lexa and all the TeamWork members made to come here and help both the Tuckers as well as Marc and me. It means more than you’ll ever know.”
Sam smiled. “It’s not a sacrifice when love’s involved. I’m sure Marc could tell you something about that.” He paused when she looked at her lap, willing her hands to stay still. This man humbled her and possessed a unique ability to see straight through to her soul. Raising her head, taking a deep breath, she nodded for him to continue.
“You and I were both raised by strong Christian parents who modeled a solid marriage of faith and trust. From what he’s told me, Marc didn’t have that advantage. Most people don’t.”
“I know. I’m sure you probably also know that Marc’s always been in competition with his dad.”
Sam tilted his head, a puzzled expression creasing his brow. “We haven’t discussed anything about his dad.”
She couldn’t imagine why Marc hadn’t told him. “Phil Thompson. Boston Celtics? Two-time NBA champions in the 70s.”
Sam’s blue eyes widened. “Jumpin’ Phil Thompson was Marc’s dad?” He shook his head, whistling under his breath. “Marc told me he grew up in St. Louis, so I had no idea. Although,” he said, running his hand through his thick hair, “he does sort of look like him, from what I remember. I think I have his autobiography, as a matter of fact. He died a few years ago, right? Cancer?”
“A decade ago, actually. His parents divorced when he was nine or ten, but his dad wasn’t around much and unfortunately never took the time to get to know his kids. It’s a difficult subject for Marc. When his dad left, it forced him to be the man of the family for his mom and sister, taught him to be strong and a self-made man. In many important ways, it shaped who he is as an adult.” A sigh escaped. “From what I’ve seen since my accident, my husband works very hard for what he’s earned, but sometimes I worry he thinks it’s not enough.” Her eyes met Sam’s. “He thinks he needs to impress me with a nice home and expensive things. But they’re just things, Sam. It’s not what I want.”
Sam’s penetrating gaze held her attention. “And what is it that you want?”
“For one thing, I wish Marc would understand it’s okay for a guy to cry. It doesn’t mean he’s any less of a man. If anything,” she said, twisting her fingers together, “it makes him even more of a man. I want him to understand life’s not a competition. Especially with a dead man.” Maybe it sounded harsh, but it was true.
Sam nodded. “I’m sorry he had to go through that with his dad, just like I’m sorry for your amnesia and what you two are going through now. But you and I both know God doesn’t make mistakes, Natalie. In the short time I’ve known your husband, I’ve seen his heart. Marc’s a good, solid, faithful man who succumbed to a sin that’s trapped many, Christian or not. Men and women. I know how difficult this is for you, but it’s in his past, and that’s the key. He’s open and honest with his feelings, and he’s put everything on the line by bringing you here to try and reconnect.”
Natalie met those blue eyes again, her resolve slipping away.
Sam leaned closer, keeping his voice low as other TeamWork volunteers came into the house. “Marc wants a second chance with you. In order to do that, he needs a clean slate. I hope you’ll give him that, but there’s something else I’d like you to remember. Marc’s past sins are covered by the cross, by the shed blood of the Savior you and I both serve.”
When she reached for his hand, Sam grasped it, squeezing tight, as they bowed their heads. As she listened to the prayer of this man—their leader in so many ways and a mentor for her husband—she couldn’t imagine better role models for a strong Christian marriage than Sam and Lexa.
Finished with his prayer, Sam rose and tapped her chin. “It’s my prayer you’ll allow Marc to be the man he wants to be, for you and your child.” He waited until her eyes met his. “And, from what you’ve told me this afternoon, I’m also sure he wants to be the kind of father his dad never was. You’re giving him a precious gift, Natalie. I hope you can let him be the husband of your heart. Always remember, God knows what He’s doing.” With a smile, Sam departed.
Pulling off her boots and tucking her feet beneath her, Natalie snuggled into the corner of the sofa. Wiping a few stray tears from her cheeks, she pondered Sam’s wise words. A few of the other volunteers moved quietly about the room. They were very sensitive in leaving her to her privacy, but it warmed her heart knowing that, if she needed them, they’d be there in a heartbeat.
~~**~~
An hour later, walking back to the main house from the office, Sam heard distant shouting. Shielding his eyes with one hand, he spied Beck on Dandelion, Marc seated behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist as they appeared on the horizon. Something wasn’t right. The closer they came, he saw Beck was inert, slumped over. The despair in Marc’s expression was unmistakable.
His heart thundering in his chest, Sam ra
n as fast as he could to meet them. Dandelion barely stopped before he pulled Beck down from the horse. Soaked to the skin, her eyes were closed. Moaning, she didn’t move as Sam cradled her in his arms. “What happened?” He ran with Marc keeping pace beside him.
“I don’t know how, but she fell in the creek on the east side of the ranch.”
“The Lord put you there, buddy. Go find Kevin. He has keys to one of the cars. Tell him to get it ready and pull it around in front of the main house. Lexa can help me get Beck out of these wet clothes and we need to get her to the hospital. Make sure to get a hot shower and into some dry clothes as soon as you can. Go. I’ll take good care of her.”
Glancing down at Beck as Marc ran in the other direction, Sam held her against his chest, hoping some of his body heat might transfer to her. Her limbs were stiff, unyielding. She looked so still with her lips blue, face pale and eyes red-rimmed. It scared him to death, and he murmured a quick prayer. Bursting through the door of the main house a few seconds later, Sam hollered for Lexa as he lowered her to the sofa. Beck was so cold, almost brittle to the touch. “Lexa! I need you!” Taking her hand in his, he detected a faint but steady pulse. “Lexa! Now!”
Cheeks smeared with flour, long braid swinging, Lexa flew through the door. “I’m here! Hold on to your . . .” If the situation weren’t so desperate, he’d laugh. Seeing Beck on the sofa, his wife’s beautiful eyes grew wide as she immediately flew to his side, falling to her knees. “Leave us for a couple of minutes. I need to peel these wet things off her.”
“We don’t have time. You’re going to need help.” Together they pried off the jeans and jacket. He rubbed and massaged Beck’s feet, keeping his eyes trained on his task while Lexa did the same with Beck’s hands until they both felt slight warmth. He handed Lexa a thick blanket draped over a nearby chair and laid out the wet clothes on the hearth, close to the fire.
Lexa gave him a knowing look. “Let me get the rest of her things off, and then I’ll wrap her in blankets.” With the back of her hand, Lexa brushed it over Beck’s cheek. She stirred slightly.
“I sent Marc to get Kevin and asked that he bring the car around,” Sam said. “I’m not sure about the 9-1-1 response time here, and there’s a small hospital down the road about ten minutes away. We can probably get her there faster if we take her ourselves.”
Lexa nodded. “Give me three minutes. I’m sure once Marc told Kevin it was Beck, he went into overdrive. That boy won’t be long.”
~~**~~
Marc wasn’t in the dining hall that night. It wasn’t like the man to skip a meal. The last time they’d been together had been so contentious, not to mention confusing, so Natalie assumed he was laying low, giving her space. One of the other men would probably take dinner to him in the cabin. Maybe she should be the one to do it?
As soon as Cassie joined them a few minutes later, she told them about Beck’s rescue. Soon, all the men and women gathered around the table, listening to the tale. Natalie’s eyes widened. “My Marc saved her?”
Winnie ducked her head, but couldn’t hide her grin. “Yes, your Marc. I have to say, it’s very nice to hear you call him that.”
“Why should you be so surprised, Natalie?” Amy said as they all hurried back over to their cabin. Because of what happened with Beck, Sam’s devotionals in the main house had been cancelled. “Look,” Amy said, draping one arm around her, “I could tell you that you’re being a little unreasonable . . .”
“Just spit it out.” Natalie was too tired to be irritated. “Let me have it. You know you want to.” After all, everyone else had been telling her the same thing all the livelong day. She caught the warning glance Winnie shot Amy’s way, but it went unheeded. They sighed with relief as they reached the warmth of the cozy cabin and shed their outerwear.
Amy inhaled a deep breath. “Okay, you asked, so here goes.” One hand traveled down to her hip, and she faced her dead-on. “The blessing in what happened is that if Marc hadn’t been so miserable, he might not have been near that creek, and we might be mourning a close friend right now.”
She stopped, and they all stared at each other before bursting into spontaneous tears. Arms around one another, they wept, holding on tight.
“Please tell me Beck’s going to be okay,” Natalie said, wiping her cheek. No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she felt something stir in her belly.
Winnie watched her closely. “What is it, sweetie? Is it the baby?”
“Yes!” She paused, one hand moving to her abdomen. There it was again. “I definitely felt a flutter.” Winnie started telling her what she could expect, giving details and specifics. Her wealth of knowledge was amazing for a single woman who’d never experienced pregnancy or childbirth. When Cassie came back to the cabin a short time later, they were engaged in a very animated conversation, Amy and Winnie gathered around where she sat on her bed. Natalie giggled at the expression on the pretty, auburn-haired girl’s face. She must think them a bunch of loons. Life with the TeamWork crew was never dull, that was for sure.
“Natalie felt the baby kick for the first time!” Winnie said, sounding like the proud Mother Hen.
Cassie’s bright grin lit her entire face. “That’s great, Natalie! You must be so excited.”
“Thanks,” Natalie said. While true, her thoughts were preoccupied with Beck’s condition. “Have you heard anything more about Beck?” Please, Lord, she has to be okay.
“Lexa and Sam are at the hospital with her. Kevin’s also keeping close watch over her. Last I heard, he was feeding her soup and planned on reading to her. He took his guitar, and provided the hospital staff allows it, I’m sure he plans on serenading her later.”
Amy grinned. “I sure hope it’s a love song since Kevin can’t seem to find the words otherwise.”
Winnie sighed. “Even if that dear boy can’t find the words to tell Beck how he feels, hopefully his actions speak louder than words. He’s so sweet, and it’s obvious to everyone else how bad he’s got it for her.”
“If only Beck’s brain isn’t frozen,” Cassie added. She frowned. “I didn’t mean that to sound insensitive, considering the circumstances. From what I understand she’s got some hotshot British boyfriend back in Louisiana, and that had something to do with her little tumble into the creek.”
“Really? What do you mean?” Amy asked, sitting up. “Do tell.”
Natalie glanced at Winnie. Her expression clued her in she might know something about it.
“Lexa said some Brit asked her to marry him, but she hasn’t known him very long. Beck was trying to think things through when her foot slipped, thus the tumble into the frozen water.” Cassie pulled off her hat and gloves and sat down on a chair, shaking out that luxurious mane of auburn waves. “That poor girl.”
“Why on earth did she have to walk near a creek in this weather?” Amy shuddered. “I wouldn’t go near one. Maybe a girl from Louisiana doesn’t realize how dangerous it can be?”
“Love can do funny things to a person, and sometimes you don’t always think straight,” Winnie said, ignoring their stares. “Beck will be just fine, with or without the British guy. Hopefully, after what’s happened, she’ll finally look at Kevin and give him a chance. Of course, I don’t know this other guy from Adam.”
That last comment prompted a grunt from Cassie. “Funny you should say that because the other guy’s name is Adam.”
“I knew there was a guy in her life, but I didn’t know his name,” Winnie said.
Cassie frowned again. “I’m just thankful Marc found Beck when he did.”
“I know, I know,” Natalie said, raising one hand. “I’ve already been told how judgmental I’ve been about my husband, but I’ve also been assured that if I hadn’t made him so miserable, he might not have found Beck when he did.” Immediate regret squeezed inside. She sounded petty and wasn’t proud of it. “I need to find Marc.”
“Are you going to forgive him?” Amy lowered her eyes, a flush coloring
her cheeks. “Sorry if I’m overstepping my bounds.”
Natalie paused a moment, locking eyes with Winnie as she grabbed her jacket and thrust her arms into it. The look on Amy’s face was expectant, mirrored by Cassie and Winnie. It was all she could do not to laugh out loud. What a bunch of matchmakers. She wasn’t sure how to answer the posed question. Pulling the gloves out of her pocket, she shook her head. “All I know is, I have to find my husband.”
Chapter 34
Natalie knocked on the door of the men’s cabin. Not hearing any sound or movement inside, she turned the knob. Although she shouldn’t venture inside without an invitation, she hoped Marc might be there. Alone. Newly-fed and worn out, she figured some of the guys would surely be around. She knew Kevin was with Beck, but where could the others be? Probably tending to the horses for the night or doing some male bonding elsewhere.
“Hello? Anyone here?” She poked her head inside and darted a glance around. Typical men’s cabin. She smiled at a couple of unmade beds and assorted items strewn on the floor in haphazard fashion. Probably Eliot, and no doubt Marc. Sure enough, a pair of boots beneath a bed caught her eye, and she recognized them as Marc’s second pair. Feeling a pull toward the bed, Natalie sat down and picked up his flannel shirt. Burying her nose in it, she absorbed his scent, an odd but appealing combination of Irish Spring, Calvin Klein and pure masculinity. She smiled and laid it on the bed, smoothing out a wrinkle. If one of the men discovered her with her face in her husband’s shirt, they’d find it amusing—and Marc would love it—but she wouldn’t be able to hold up her head around the ranch.
A small stack of letters bound with a rubber band sat halfway beneath Marc’s pillow. Natalie chewed her lower lip. It was an invasion of Marc’s privacy, but if she didn’t look, she’d always wonder. Picking up the envelopes, she randomly flipped through them. She’d know that scrawl anywhere. No return address, but they were all addressed to her at the house in Newton and dated within the last few months.