by Ruth Reid
Once they neared the camp, Ben stretched out his arm and stopped Grace. He guided her to an area behind a stand of birch trees and turned to face her. “Stay here. If there’s a problem, don’t wait for me. Run.”
She craned her neck to look around his shoulder.
Ben repositioned himself in her direct line of vision. “You must listen . . . or you might get us both killed.”
The corners of her mouth turned down and the lines across her forehead deepened. If she started crying now, she would give them away.
Ben leaned closer. “Do what you must to hold it together.”
Grace covered her hand over her mouth. As she closed her eyes, tears seeped out and rolled down her cheeks.
He hated to walk away, but if he stayed any longer, he might lose the opportunity of surprise. Ben took a few steps, whispering a short prayer for protection as he went. He crept forward trying not to think about the irony of praying for protection while clutching a rifle at the same time.
Ben reached the campsite perimeter and ducked behind a tree. He drew a deep breath and released it slowly. His heart was thumping so hard he found it difficult to distinguish other sounds from the whoosh vibrating his inner ear. He glanced back at Grace, standing in the same place with her hand still over her mouth. At least she hadn’t followed him.
Ben leaned around the tree and spied Gordon, pacing next to the fire, mumbling to himself, and raking his fingers through his hair. His mental instability was unpredictable and risky. Ben could outfight him. But could he keep Grace from coming between them? And Jack, where was he? Ben wasn’t about to go any closer unless he had Jack in his sight. Scanning the area, Ben spotted Jack lying curled in a fetal position not far from where the fox had cornered him. Ben stood for what seemed like hours, staring at Jack, but the man showed no signs of movement.
Against his better judgment, Ben eased out from the shelter of the tree. As he walked into the firelight, it became more apparent that Gordon was discombobulated, muttering about himself in third person, his words running together.
“Gordon don’t like dark places. Darkness bad.” Wringing his hands together, Gordon paced a few feet, then pivoted. Shuffling sand as he moved, he repeated the same steps in a trancelike state.
Ben stepped into Gordon’s path.
Gordon stopped less than an arm’s length away. As his gaze traveled from Ben’s boots up to his face, Gordon’s complexion turned ashen. Gordon began to sway from side to side, nostrils flared, and an active facial tic caused his cheek to twitch.
“Gordon.” Ben glanced at Jack to see if his whispering had awakened him. “Do you want to go with me and Grace?” When Gordon stared at him blankly, Ben added, “Grace will make you some cookies.” If cookies didn’t entice him, probably nothing would. He stole another glimpse at Jack, who still hadn’t moved.
Gordon lurched sideways, eyes searching beyond Ben. His cheek twitched again, and he lifted his shoulder and rubbed it against his face.
Futile. What was I thinking letting Grace convince me of this? Ben waited a moment longer, then turned.
“Gordon likes cookies.”
Grace had counted to one hundred twice, and Ben still wasn’t back. There hadn’t been any commotion, so what was taking them so long? She resumed counting, one, two, three—she couldn’t wait any longer. Grace tiptoed toward the camp. She spotted Ben and Gordon first, then Jack several feet away, huddled into a ball.
She came up behind Ben as he was talking about cookies. She hadn’t meant to startle him, but he jumped and in a split second had the gun aimed at her.
His brows furrowed as he lowered the gun. “You told me you were going to wait.”
She broke eye contact with Ben and smiled at Gordon. “Gordon, we want you to go home with—”
“Jack,” Gordon called in a high pitch. “She came back.” As Gordon stepped toward her, Ben cut him off. Gordon narrowed his eyes, then looked over his shoulder to where Jack was lying. “Jack!”
Grace shook her head. “Don’t wake him, he’s—”
Jack groaned and lifted his head slowly. “You!”
As Jack slurred profanity, Ben wheeled her around and nudged her lower back. “Run!”
Grace didn’t need to be told twice. She ran into the woods, pushing pine-needle branches out of her way, vaguely aware of Ben behind her and unsure if Gordon was following, too, or not.
Keep going. Don’t stop.
Her lungs burned.
Breathe.
Grace jumped over a fallen tree, but her dress snagged on one of its branches. She sprang backward, lost her footing, and fell.
Ben reached for her arm and helped her to her feet, but the moment she put weight on her foot, pain shot through her ankle. She took a small step and bit back a yelp.
“Hold this.” He handed her the gun, then scooped her into his arms. “Don’t shoot yourself.”
“Okay,” she whimpered, slipping her finger off the trigger. “Where’s Gordon?”
“He stayed. And don’t ask to go back.”
Ben broke a new trail through the woods and came out near the river where he eased her to her feet. Holding her waist with one arm, he reached for the rifle with his free hand. “Can you walk a few steps over to the embankment?”
“I think so.” She didn’t put all her weight on her left foot, but enough to maintain her balance with his assistance. He helped her to sit on the edge of the embankment. She blew out a breath. Rest was exactly what she needed.
Ben lowered himself next to her but didn’t stay. He pushed off the side and slid down the sandy ridge. Once at the bottom, he set the gun down, then climbed partway up the hillside and waved his hand, motioning her to come down.
She hesitated half a second, but hearing crunching noises coming from the bushes moved her to action. She pushed off the side with enough force that she plowed into Ben and they both cascaded to the bottom, coated in sand and tangled in each other’s arms. For a moment, she just lay there, her head resting against Ben’s chest, and counting the lub-dub of his heart beating steady and strong.
She lifted her head for a second before he pushed her back against his chest. This time, his hand cupped her jaw, his thumb pressed against her lips. “Shh,” he whispered next to her ear.
He didn’t have to explain. Over his ragged breathing, she could make out the muffled voices of Jack and Gordon.
Chapter Thirty
Tucked safely in Ben’s arms, Grace let her body go limp. Lord, why are Jack and Gordon still on the cliff above us? Do You see that we are weary? A shudder of remorse seeped through her pores. She shouldn’t have convinced Ben to go back for Gordon. Her foolishness would have serious repercussions if Jack found them.
Shelter us from the wiles of evil, Lord, I pray.
The northern lights vanished. As if God had extinguished His guiding lamp, suddenly the sky was black.
Jack and Gordon’s voices trailed off.
A whip-poor-will’s call droned out the crickets and frogs. Had she not prayed, Grace might have let the eerie sounds of the night overwhelm her, but lying in Ben’s arms, she was surrounded with peace. Danki, God. For a long moment, neither of them moved. The once chaotic rise and fall of his chest fell into a rhythmic lull.
Several minutes after Jack and Gordon’s voices faded, he tipped her face toward his and brushed his sandy hand over her cheek. “I think they’re gone,” he whispered.
A thick cloud uncovered the moon, shedding a faint light that flickered in his eyes. Grace swallowed hard. She had no way of gauging the rush of heat spreading over her body. Even Philemon had never generated these sensations.
Ben released his hold. “We need to go.”
Grace pushed up to her feet, smothering a screech when she put weight on her ankle. She squinted at the incline, but with limited light, it was impossible to see the best place to start climbing. “I’m nett sure I can make it to the top.”
Ben picked up the gun. The chamber clicked and the shi
ny bullets caught in the moonlight as they fell to the ground. “We’re nett going up,” he said, kicking dirt over the bullets with the toe of his boot. “Stay here a minute.”
He walked off, leaving her teetering for balance. She hobbled in his direction, but she didn’t make it more than a few paces before he returned.
“We can’t stay here. They’ll find us,” she said.
“I know.” He looped his arm around her waist, picked her up, and headed to the edge of the water.
“Wh-what are you thinking?” Panic laced her words.
“I think you talk too much.”
“Why are you . . . taking me . . . into . . . th-the water?”
“Well, I’m nett going to baptize you.” Water splashed as he stepped into the river.
She craned her neck and wiggled to get a better look, but she wasn’t able to see well enough to judge the depth.
“Why are you squirming so much? Surely you’re nett afraid of the water.”
“Jah, I-I-I am.”
“Hmm . . . Didn’t you say the fly rod in the shed was yours?” He took another step and they sank deeper.
The drag of the current tugged at her dress. Her legs totally submerged in the cold stream, she shivered. The river was getting deeper and memories flooded her mind of when she’d been swept downstream as a child. Grace clung tighter, burying her face in the crook of his neck.
“Grace,” he rasped. “You’re choking me.”
“Sorry.” She loosened her death grip, but the moment his foot slipped on the rocky bottom, she scrambled to reestablish her hold. They dipped farther down, the icy water so numbing she could no longer feel her toes. “Oh, Lord!”
“God didn’t bring us this far to leave us,” Ben said. “But you are going to have to switch to a different position.”
“Nay.” Instead of loosening her grip, she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck. She would crawl into his skin if she could. The river was too deep—too strong for him to let her go now.
“Grace . . .” His muscles tensed, battered by the chest-high current. “You have to get on mei back.” His voice sounded strained. “Where’s your faith?” His tone was stern.
Tears pricked her eyes. Her faith might as well have been on the bottom of the river, it amounted to mere words—not action. She pressed her face against his neck, feeling his Adam’s apple move when he swallowed. This was where she wanted to be.
“You’ll be all right,” he said, peeling her arms from around his neck. “I promise.”
She shook her head. “Don’t let me go.”
Behind them, something heavy splashed into the water. Jack surfaced, cursing and plowing through the water in their direction. Her breath caught in her throat. Even though Jack looked to be staggering, he wasn’t more than a few feet away.
Ben shifted her without warning, and she found herself facing his back, clawing at his shirt, then latching onto his suspenders just as they went under. She came up sputtering, having taken in a mouthful of river water. She sucked in a quick breath before they sank once more. Ben swam hard, but the current kept them from making much progress.
Something rubbed against her leg. In the blink of an eye, Jack had wrapped his arm around Ben’s neck and was forcing him under. Still holding on to Ben’s suspenders, she went under as well. When she finally managed to get her head up, they were all three whirling downstream. Only Ben and Jack were fully engaged in a war with legs kicking and arms batting.
Something hit her foot, and she kicked feverishly. A hand moved along her leg and snatched hold of her ankle. Feeling herself torn from Ben, she kicked her free foot in a wild frenzy, landing the heel of her shoe on Jack’s face. He caught her other leg and pulled her under. She struggled, but to no avail. She held her breath and lost her fight fast.
Surrounded in blackness, she heard garbled voices. Or maybe that was the water. Her body hit something hard. She couldn’t think—couldn’t react—when someone’s arms came around her waist.
Thrust to the surface, she gasped a lungful of cold air, vaguely aware of someone holding her up in the process. It took a moment to get her bearings and realize the movement inside her head wasn’t because she was adrift on the river. She was bent over a fallen tree limb, inhaling the loamy scent of moss.
“He’s gone, Grace. You’re safe.” Ben’s voice was like balm to her soul. He gently rubbed her back. “Are you okay?”
She was now, but she lacked the strength to say more than a weak “Uh-huh.”
The rotting limb groaned. Ben peeled her away from the tree.
“Nay, please . . .”
“I’ll keep you safe. I promise,” Ben said. “Get on mei back and hold on.”
She did, but only because he’d pushed them away from the log and the current was threatening to carry her away.
Too exhausted to fret, she wrapped her arms around his chest and rested her head against his shoulder. Ben took even strokes with the steadiness of a trout swimming upstream. A few minutes later, they reached the shallow area where Ben could stand once again.
“See,” he said, exhaling laboriously. “I told you . . . I’d . . . keep you safe.”
Ben crawled up onshore and collapsed against the cold sand, his muscles throbbing. Grace flopped over beside him, her chest rising and falling in deep pants. He mustered a weak smile knowing they were safe. His conscience pricked him and he promptly closed his eyes. Forgive me, Father. I didn’t bring her safely across. You brought us both to safety. You rescued us from the hand of our enemy. You are my rock and fortress . . . I take refuge in You . . . Peace washed over him.
He heard her teeth chattering and opened his eyes. Spasms wracked her body. He reached his arm around her waist and pulled her into an embrace. The chilly night air would have made him shake, too, if his muscles weren’t refusing. But the longer she lay folded in his arms, warmth dispersed through his veins. He buried his nose in her hair and took in the mineral scent of the river. You’ve been through so much, mei Gracie . . .
Several minutes passed before her shivering stopped and she started to stir. Ben rose to his elbow, leaving his other arm still around her. “Next time we go swimming in the moonlight, I hope it’s summer.”
Her body went rigid.
He tipped her chin. “What’s the matter?”
“Where’s Jack?”
“He plowed into a boulder headfirst and the current swept him away.”
She vaulted into a sitting position and faced him, pointing a shaky index finger. “Why did you bring us over here?” She immediately broke into a sob. “We’ll just have to cross the river again.”
He wrapped her in a tight hug, stroking her hair until she released her pent-up emotions. Crossing the river at night had obviously frightened her—and with reason. Before Jack jumped him, Ben had been reminding himself that Michigan didn’t have alligators roaming the river.
Grace sniffled. “Why this side, Ben?”
“This side was closer, and quite frankly, I was tired. I didn’t think we could make it to the other side.” He paused, took a deep, calming breath, and exhaled slowly. “Let’s get off this wet sand.” He pushed off the ground and reached for her hand to help her up.
She lowered her head. “I’m sorry.”
He tipped her chin with his thumb so that she would look him in the eye. “We’ll find an easier place to cross kumm morning,” he said, softening his voice to a whisper. Seeing the way her eyes glistened in the moonlight tugged at his heart. Please don’t cry. Ben cocked his head sideways and grinned. “Are you doubting mei ability to swim again, or are you worried about being alone with me all nacht?”
“I know you can swim.” A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Should I be worried about being alone with you?”
“Uh-huh.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
He shrugged. “I assume you’ll want to kiss me again. After all, I brought you safely across the river. And”—he paused for effect—“you d
id kiss me the last time I rescued you from Jack.”
Her lips formed a tight, straight line. “I don’t know what got into me.”
“Me either, but I liked it.” He turned his face and pointed to his cheek. “Right there will be fine.”
“You, Ben Eicher,” she said, poking her index finger into his chest and pressing deeper with each tap like she was sending her message via Morse code, “assumed wrong.”
He grabbed her hand and pressed it firmly against his chest, then leaned toward her, his lips almost touching hers. The warmth from her shallow breaths teased his craving to steal a kiss. He jerked back, then chuckled nervously to diffuse the way she’d affected him. “Then I suppose you’re safe.” He turned. “But I don’t know how you’ll get across the river tomorrow,” he said over his shoulder while taking a few steps away.
“Don’t you dare leave me.” She gathered her dress skirt and toddled toward him. “I kissed you,” she said, “because . . .”
“Because I’m irresistible.”
“Nay.” Her brows bent. “Because . . .”
His grinning only seemed to fluster her more.
“Oh, it doesn’t matter. It was just a kiss.” She walked ahead of him, kicking up sand with every step she took.
A glutton for more punishment, he pursued her. “That certainly wasn’t just a kiss. If you remember, I had to remind you that I had a gun in mei hand.”
Something between a hiccup and a gasp escaped her mouth.
“Admit it.” He jutted his jaw, oozing with confidence and enjoying every second of watching her seethe. She glared at him, probably tallying the reasons why he irked her.
“Jack had kissed me,” she blurted. “I wanted to somehow erase those ugly memories. I wanted his . . . scent off me and the taste of his cigarette . . . out of mei mouth.” She blinked, batting tears off her lashes.
Ben ushered her into his arms. He stroked the back of her wet hair as she cried against his chest. Pressing Grace even tighter, he vowed that Jack would never touch her again, that is, if the man was even still alive. Ben wanted Jack dead, and that thought frightened him. Love your enemies . . . Father, Your Word says that vengeance is Yours. Please forgive me.