More Than a Miracle

by Raine Cantrell

  “Just over the other side of that stand of trees is the place where we’ll find our tree.”

  “But Pa, I know a good place.”

  “I do, too.”

  “Do not. Girls don’t know the same as boys.”

  “Do, too!”

  “Enough,” Gabe said with a laugh. “We won’t fight about it. Since I’m the eldest, I get to pick.”

  Chris stuck his tongue out at Kathleen, but behind his father’s back.

  “Boys!” Kathleen hurried ahead to walk beside Gabe.

  Far off they heard a thundering sound. Standing in the middle of the clearing, Gabe brought the horses to a stop. When Chris started to speak he hushed him.

  “Listen! What you hear is snow coming off the mountain.”

  Something in his voice kept both children silent.

  The sounds died away. Wary, Gabe waited a few minutes longer, then hurried the horses across the clearing and into the trees. There was an old Indian trail here, kept clear of brush by the game that followed it Gabe pushed along, every sense alert, instinct telling him to hurry.

  He spotted the stand of spruce before they were clear.

  The children ran ahead, exclaiming over the thick, lush growth. Each quickly found first one, then another tree that was perfect.

  Gabe came along with the horses, but he looked toward the mountain with its ragged peaks. Off a ways was a gorge that curved toward the west. If what he heard was the beginning of a slide, chances were good that was where the snow fell. But there was no accounting for the trail it would follow.

  He listened a moment or two to the good-natured bickering between his son and Kathleen. She was a fine girl and he had grown fond of her. From thoughts of the daughter came thought of her mother and the kiss they had shared last night.

  He had dreamed about Maureen, dreamed about kissing her and then making love to her until the passion he sensed in her and the desire he felt left them both breathless.

  But there was so much more to the woman. He liked her quiet ways, enjoyed talking to her, something he had rarely done with a woman. Her laugh was a sound he carried inside him, it was that warm and inviting.

  “Pa! Pa, you ain’t listening,” Chris yelled, tugging on Gabe’s jacket sleeve. When he finally got his father’s attention, he turned and pointed. “Kathleen and me found it. Maureen’s gonna love this one. All you gotta do is cut it down.”

  “Let’s take a look.” Gabe looped the lead reins over a limb and followed his son through the stand of spruce. He inhaled deeply, loving the scent of the evergreens, even the crisp cold air. It was a lonely place, but where both man and child had room to grow and learn.

  Kathleen stood guard on the tree they had picked out and Gabe stopped, looking it over.

  Nearly ten feet tall, and half as wide, it was much too big. Before he opened his mouth to say so, he looked from her smiling eyes to his son’s.

  “Isn’t it grand?” Kathleen asked. “Ma will love this one. Won’t she, Chris?”

  “You bet. Right, Pa?”

  Gabe nodded, walked around the tree and saw that they had picked a good one. The trunk was straight, he saw, parting the branches to look. He could easily trim it down.

  “I’ll get your ax, Pa.”

  “You do like it, don’t you?” Kathleen asked, her cheeks flushed with the same excitement that brightened her eyes.

  “It’s a fine one you two picked. But I doubt we’ll have enough to decorate all the branches.”

  “Oh, I know that. But it will fill the corner and make the cabin smell so nice. My ma always wanted a big tree. We had a little one last year. It was all we could cut down. But this year will be the best Christmas ever.”

  “You bet,” Chris added as he came up to hand over the ax to his father.

  Gabe made short work of cutting down the tree. He labored to drag it through the thick growth and hitched it to the traces on the team.

  The day was suddenly clouded and there was a sharp drop in the temperature. He started them moving toward home.

  Chris ran ahead for there was little snow on the ground. The way was a little muddy from the melt. Kathleen stayed beside him.

  Impulse made Gabe reach out to take her smaller hand within his. Her smile made a warm feeling spread inside him.

  “If I had a pa, I’d want him to be just like you.”

  “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in a long time, Kathleen. I imagine it must get lonely for you and your mother.”

  “Sometimes. It’s been real nice having Chris with us. I think of him like he’s my brother. Do you think I’m silly to do that?”

  “No. Not at all. What you and your mother did was a fine thing, taking in Chris. Your mother’s a special woman.”

  “Pretty?”

  “Very.”

  “Do you…do you like her?”

  Kathleen covered her mouth with her free hand, and the flush on her cheeks deepened. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “No, it’s all right. I do like her. Like her a lot.”

  Gabe looked ahead and there was no sign of Chris.

  “Where’s that boy got off to?”

  The words were no sooner spoken than the sound of thunder came to them. Gabe caught hold of Kathleen with one arm, holding her close and gripped his rifle with the other. He yelled at the horses and they started trotting, dragging the tree behind them.

  “Hold me tight, sweetheart. We need to run. Chris!” he shouted. “Chris, get back here!”

  The thunder swelled louder until it seemed to be everywhere. Gabe couldn’t find Chris. Lord, he prayed, please help me. Don’t let me have found my boy only to lose him.

  “Chris!” he called again, and Kathleen added her own cries to his.

  The horses were entering the trees. He hurried to get to them, afraid they’d be caught. He couldn’t stop calling his son, but heard no reply. Kathleen shook in his arms, but she, too, kept yelling for Chris to answer them.

  Beneath Gabe’s feet the ground trembled, and a heavy rumble sounded behind them.

  “Slide, Kathleen. That’s a snowslide coming our way.”

  “Put me down. I can run. I can beat Chris running.”

  Gabe didn’t answer, nor did he set her down. He saw the horses free of the woods and running full-out. He made for a shelf of rock with boulders and a towering pine to one side. It wasn’t much of a shelter, but running with that snow coming down would surely get them killed.

  “Pa! Got the horses!”

  He heard Chris’s yell, and he spun around, off balance carrying Kathleen in one arm and holding the rifle out in the other. He never saw the patch of ice. He felt himself falling, and managed to twist his body so he took the brunt of the fall on one knee.

  Pain lanced him, but he struggled to his feet using the rifle as a crutch and got Kathleen tucked under the rock shelf. He turned halfway around and saw the snow filling the clearing they had just crossed, crushing the trees before its massive weight. It wasn’t a wide slide, but carried every tree and rock debris in a thirty-foot path down the slope following what might have been an old water course.

  He hunched protectively over Kathleen’s huddled body and watched the snowy splashes flying high as if a gale force wind had taken hold. The thundering sound roared until it was all he heard as the slide plunged down gaining in speed. He knew the ravine below would be filled before it was done. His vision took in the riot of rock, broken trees, ice and masses of snow that hurtled in flight.

  And when it was done, there was such a silence that he was almost afraid to breathe.

  And nowhere did he hear the sound of his son’s voice.

  Chapter Nine

  The day darkened and the wind came up when Maureen noticed the first snow flurries. She was not worried, for Gabe and the children had only been gone about two hours. It would take time to search out the stands of trees. But several times she slippe
d outside and saw that the flakes were big, thick wet ones, the kind that stick and the sky was darker.

  She lit the lantern and hung it outside the door, worry building inside her until she restlessly paced from fire to window.

  She was outside when she heard the far-off rumble of thunder and knew it for what is was—a snowslide.

  And there was no sign of them returning. Three hours now, she reckoned. Surely they would be on their way back.

  She banked the stove and added water to the soup pot. A worrisome feeling took hold of her. She forced herself to remember that Gabe had lived here, that he knew these mountains and the perils of snowslides. He wouldn’t let harm come to the children.

  But the slow-passing minutes increased the urge for her to do something.

  She was dressed warmly before she thought about it. Taking another lantern, she stepped outside. The snow appeared a solid curtain, blanketing everything with its whiteness. She struggled against the wind. This storm was going to be what the old-timers called a howler, for the wind was strong and the snow thick and steadily falling.

  Not too far off she heard a wolf howl. Before she neared the corner of the barn, she turned around and headed back to the cabin for her rifle.

  One thing Maureen knew. She must not panic. If they were hurt they would need her. As she passed the barn she thought of the horses, but the way the snow was drifting before the wind, the horse would have more trouble finding a way up the slope than she would walking.

  She called out every few feet, swinging the lantern from side to side. The wolf howled, only now his voice was joined by another.

  Every step of the way she blessed the knowledge her father had passed on to her, to know the mark of the land. She had no fear of where she walked, but only for those who were missing.

  A gust whipped snow into her face. She paused near the trunk of an ancient tree, calling out and once more swinging the lantern wide around.

  At first she thought she imagined someone calling her. Hurriedly, she stepped out.

  “I’m here! Can you see the lantern!”

  She heard the horses before she saw the dark, massive shapes form out of the falling snow.

  The cold was intense. Maureen started forward when she saw the small form leading the horses.

  “Chris! Are you all right?”

  Within minutes he stood in the circle of light and told her through lips near blue with cold of the snowslide. “I was too far ahead and scared to go back.”

  Maureen had to get him back to the cabin. She had to trust that Gabe would care for Kathleen. She only prayed that they were not hurt, for the snow had changed in these few minutes to icy particles that stung her face.

  She handed the boy her rifle and then the lantern and blessed every hour of hard labor that had strengthened her body as she lifted Chris onto a horse and led the way back to the barn. She sent Chris to the cabin while she unharnessed the horses and rubbed them down with rough sacking. The cold worked its evil on her, for she could barely catch her breath as she made for the cabin to make sure Chris was all right.

  He was putting on fresh socks when she came inside.

  “I had some soup to warm me up. I’m coming with you to look for them.”

  Maureen opened her mouth to argue, then shut it. She could not leave him here alone, and if Gabe and Kathleen were hurt, she would need. Chris.

  “You mustn’t worry. Pa’s got woods savvy. He won’t be far.”

  “Chris, get the sled. I’m going to fill this canteen with some of the broth. They’ll be cold when we find them.”

  When, not if. She kept repeating those words as they hiked up the slope, the wind so sharp and cutting they could not call out. It was a struggle to place one foot in front of the other. Everything was buried deep under the drifted snow.

  Maureen searched with care as they came to a stand of trees. Chris was sure this was where he stood when he heard the first thunder of the slide.

  It was shelter of a sort beneath the snow-covered branches. But Maureen knew they dared not stand and wait here. The howls of the wolves were closer and they had a clearing to cross. From the little she could see, the wind had swept the south end clean of snow. She pointed out the way to Chris and they started off.

  From the corner of her eye Maureen saw the dark shapes closing in on them. A wolf pack! She handed over the lantern to Chris, her gloves making her hands clumsy as she thumbed back the hammer of the rifle and fired a shot in the air. She did not want to kill them, just chase them away. It took another shot before they backed off, but she knew they had not gone far.

  She thought that they should go back, that maybe Gabe and Kathleen had already reached the cabin, but something held her to search a little longer. How much longer, she did not know, for the cold numbed her feet. The only thing to be thankful for was that the snowfall lessened. They trudged onward, heading for the next stand of trees.

  When she heard the piercing whistle, she thought the wind was playing tricks. But Chris knew what it was and whistled back. Within minutes they saw Gabe and Kathleen, hobbling toward them.

  Such joy burst inside her that she could barely contain it. The fear she had held close drowned under that gladdened joy of seeing Gabe and her daughter, safe. And when they came together at the edge of the clearing, not a word was spoken, but they huddled and hugged. The lantern light showed the sheen of tears and beyond them, the relief that they were together. It was only as they started out that Maureen saw Gabe limp. He refused the sled, gesturing the two children to get on. Still using his rifle stock for a cane, with Maureen leading the way, they made their way home.

  Tired, cold and hungry the four of them looked upon the lighted window with smiles. Home. A word slipped from lips chapped by cold and wind. Home. Warmth and shelter, and togetherness.

  Maureen heated buckets of water. Some went to reduce the swelling on Gabe’s knee, part to the animals for the creek was frozen. How the house pump worked, she did not know, but she was thankful for it.

  She tucked the children into her bed and returned to Gabe.

  “I’ll bathe your knee again. I…was afraid for you and Kathleen. I surely prayed hard.”

  “Maureen.” He said her name and no more as she came to kneel on the floor beside where he made his bed. He took hold of her hand as she reached for the blanket that covered his legs. “Wait”

  He looked into her green eyes and liked the way the firelight brought out the red glints in her hair. She had been rushing around taking care of them and the animals and he saw the weary droop to her shoulders, but she smiled at him, and that smile made him feel as if his heart had turned over.

  “There’s a thing I wish to say. Out there, I, too, was afraid. In those minutes of watching that slide destroy all in its path, I thought of my son and my leaving him to you. And I knew I could never find anyone better to have the guiding of him to grow to manhood.”

  “Gabe, please, I did not do so much.”

  “Hush. Let me finish. I also thought of you and the children here alone. Christmas is a short time away and I want to give you a present. I want you to have title to this land. I want to know that it is yours. And if… Well, there is Chris…” His voice trailed off, and he stared at the fire.

  “Stop this. Nothing is going to happen to you. It is the brush with death that brings such thoughts.” She sat quietly beside him, waiting, for she sensed there was more he had to say. After long minutes passed, he spoke again.

  “You have a rare quality, Maureen, to listen and wait for a man to form his thoughts into the right words. But they don’t come easy.” He glanced around the cabin and thought of how bare it had looked the last time he had been there. “You’ve made this into a home again. It is a fine place to raise a child.” He reached out and cupped her chin so his blue-gray eyes met hers. “A fine place for a man and a woman, a child or two or more.”

  Her heart felt as if it stopped then returned with a
stronger, harder beat. “Gabe, please, it is the loneliness that makes you talk like this.”

  “True. I’ll not deny that. But I find that the day begins brighter when I see your smile. And your laughter brings the need within me to laugh with you. You’ve given me something these last few days that I didn’t know I had needed. Happiness, Maureen. You’re a caring, warm woman and a man would need to be a fool to let you go. Have you no feelings for me?”

  The memory of his kiss flared into her mind and she saw within his eyes that he remembered those few moments of passion, too. But there was more. He talked of a man being a fool to walk away from her, but she knew she could not find a better man than Gabe.

  She brushed the lock of hair from his forehead as she longed to do so many times. As they looked into each other’s eyes, she sensed that he read of her deeper feelings as she did his. Sometimes it was too hard to put those feelings into words.

  “Think about sharing your life with me, Maureen. I’d try to be a good husband to you, a good father to Kathleen. Do you…do you think you could come to care for me?”

  But she answered with a question of her own. “And you, could you love me?”

  He drew her down and whispered her name in a voice suddenly heavy with need. Yet his kiss was a tender cherishing of passion held in check.

  Holding her beside him, he thought of what she asked.

  “Love? How can a man define love? I know the love I have for my son. There was an emptiness inside me that grew into unbearable pain for every day that I searched and didn’t find him. I love having a good horse beneath me and the feel of a fine weapon when trouble comes. And I love this land that demands a man’s strength and courage to tame it.

  “But truth told, Maureen, I know little of the love a man feels for a woman. I don’t know if I have the right words to make you understand. I see you as a beautiful woman that makes my blood run hot and heavy. I hear your voice and know that I can reach out to share some small sight or a thought with you. Your silence is a comfort, too, for I never feel alone. I admire your strength and your courage.