The Witness Series Bundle

by Rebecca Forster

  "Good girl," Teresa mumbled. "Now, over her head."

  When that was done and they were working the gown over her body, Melody said: "We need to tell Duncan before Pea does."

  "Pea won't have anything to say about this."

  "You're wrong, Teresa. Pea has a say in everything. But you might as well tell me now. What is it you think I should know?"

  The women looked toward the door to see Duncan standing there. Neither of them had heard him come up the stairs or into the room. Melody blushed and buttoned the high neck of the nightgown, moving her own body to shield Hannah's nakedness from him.

  "She's scarred, Duncan. Teresa says she did it to herself. It's different because she did it to herself, isn't it?"

  He was so close that Melody rushed to finish her chore, pulling the long gown down over Hannah's feet. Before she could arrange the bedding, Duncan put his hands on her shoulders.

  "It's alright for me to see her, Melody. Haven't I seen you and Robert and all the rest? Haven't I looked upon all your infirmities without judgment? If Hannah is in need, I should know." He squeezed Melody once, twice, a third time to coax her to his way of thinking. "Show me what you've seen. Please show me, so I can help her."

  "It's her arms, Duncan. She's cut her arms. There are scars and she doesn't want them touched," Teresa said.

  As she spoke, Duncan put Melody behind him and moved closer to the bed. His eyelashes fluttered. He took the tips of Hannah's fingers between his own and raised up her hand as though he might kiss it. Instead, he unbuttoned the cuff and slid the sleeve up gently. Hannah did not open her eyes. She did not tell him to stop. He rotated her arm and looked at the scars.

  "How sad," he sighed.

  "If she has demons, Duncan, why didn't they save her?" Melody asked.

  "They would be no match for Robert's faith," Duncan answered. "But I think her demons are long gone. These scars are old. I think she is for you, Melody. Don't you think so Teresa?"

  Not wanting Melody to carry a heavier burden then she already did, Teresa chose her words carefully "Possibly. Maybe you should ask Pea."

  "Pea spoke of upheavals and tests. Isn't that why we are all together? To test our resolve, and our faith, and earn our way back into God's good grace? I would say what happened today is an upheaval. I would say this girl is particularly suited as a test for Melody."

  "You might be right." Teresa agreed, albeit reluctantly. In this flock, they were all impressionable, but Melody was a kind and sweet soul. She was the most impressionable of all and there was only so much she could take. Still, Teresa had no right to tell Duncan anything. She had no rights to Duncan at all anymore.

  "What about the boy? What about Billy?" Teresa asked.

  "Perhaps he's for me," Duncan said. "I'm thinking he's my challenge."

  "But, what is your sin?" Melody asked.

  Duncan shook his head. "I have no idea. I suppose Pea will tell me in good time. But, Melody, Hannah is for you. Teresa can help, but she'll be your responsibility."

  "I'll see to her," Melody promised, sad that there was now another test for her to pass. No one else had two trials. Still, if Duncan said it was so then it must be.

  "But how is the boy?" Teresa asked again, wanting Duncan gone from this room. It wasn't right to have him here, not when the girl was at such a disadvantage.

  "Hurt, beside himself with worry, exhausted. He's skin and bones. They both are. This will take some nursing, won't it? Do you think you are up to it, Melody?"

  "I can sit up all night with her if you think it best," she answered.

  "I do. I'll make sure Billy stays put," Duncan said, before adding. "He shouldn't be in this room, do you understand? I think he came to a bit of madness locked in that truck. We will have to be on our guard." Tired of talking about Billy, Duncan smiled at Melody. "You've done a good job."

  "Teresa, too," Melody answered, sure that he would admire her more if she shared this small glory. "She did the stitches."

  "You are clever, Teresa. Come to think of it, she might be for you, too. She's just a child, after all. We'll know soon enough what her purpose is. Now that we've done everything humanly possible to help them, we'll pray."

  Duncan held out his arms, but only Melody walked into them. He wrapped his arms around her and took both her hands in his. Melody's eyes closed. Her head fell back against his shoulder. She could feel every breath he took as he spoke.

  "Pray for her recovery, Melody. Pray that the scars she carries fade to nothingness and that whatever tortured her in her previous life is left behind. Pray that she is resurrected in the light of our love."

  Lulled by the sound of his voice and the feel of his skin against hers, Melody prayed as hard as she could. She prayed so hard, and believed so deeply, that she was sure she would not only find Hannah healed, but herself transformed when Duncan released her.

  He gave her hand one last squeeze and passed her back to Teresa. Duncan cast down his gaze upon Hannah. Teresa looked into space of her own making. Melody bowed her head, preferring to look at the wooden floor than a face she knew would soon be beautiful.

  "For behold," Duncan prayed. "The day is coming, burning like a furnace. And all the arrogant and every evildoer will be chaff; and the day that is coming will set them ablaze. . ."

  Duncan lowered his hand. He put his fingers beneath Hannah's chin.

  ". . .so that it will leave them neither root nor branch. . ."

  One finger hooked under the high neck of the gown.

  ". . .but for you who fear My name. . ."

  Hannah's neck arched as he pulled on the material and lowered his face toward her.

  ". . .the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings; and you will go forth and skip about like calves from the stall. . ."

  Melody looked up from beneath her lowered lashes. Duncan's voice had changed the closer he got to the girl. When their lips were a breath apart, Melody's flushed. Frantically, she looked at Teresa, but the older woman's eyes were closed tight and she didn't see what was going on.

  "You will tread down the wicked," Duncan whispered. "For they will be ashes under the soles of your feet on the day which I am preparing. The day that I am preparing, Hannah."

  Melody closed her eyes tighter and listened harder, but she could still see him touching the unconscious girl. When she opened them again, Duncan had let go of her collar and taken the hem of Hannah's nightdress between two fingers. He lifted it.

  "Dear God." This seemed less a prayer than an exclamation of awe. "Let our sister feel no pain. Let her dream no dream."

  He exposed her knees.

  "Let her lie in this darkness which is the ultimate peace. . ."

  With every inch of brutalized skin he exposed, Melody's heart beat faster. Teresa opened her eyes and raised her clasped hands toward him as if pleading for him to stop. Duncan paid her no mind so lost was he in his prayer.

  "And in the dark, let her remain as a seed that sprouts only when the true light shines bright. Your light. . ."

  The nightgown went above Hannah's knees and the girl was still as stone.

  "Duncan!"

  Teresa barked his name. The man paused as if he had suddenly come upon a surprising thing and didn't know what to make of it. A muscle across his back rippled and another chorded in his neck.

  "Yes, Teresa?" He swung his head her way.

  "I'm thinking this isn't seemly," she said.

  He pinched the fabric between two fingers, lifted it higher, and then pulled it back down past Hannah's knees.

  "I'm thinking you need to examine your thoughts during Hours, Teresa. This woman is under my protection now. I need to know everything about her pain."

  "They aren't part of us," Teresa reminded him.

  "'He will command his angels concerning you, to guard you. Isn't that what God has directed?"

  "Melody is her angel," Teresa said. "Not you."

  "True
. Melody is an angel, and I put this girl in her hands."

  Duncan smiled as he stepped away. Melody moved around him and rearranged the nightgown with her trembling hand. Before she could pull the covers over Hannah, Duncan stopped her.

  "Her leg is broken," he said.

  "I don't think so, Duncan," Teresa said.

  "Come, see for yourself. Come on in here." Duncan held out his hand, took hers when she was close enough, and placed it on Hannah's shin.

  "Feel that? Deep down, Teresa," he urged. "It's broken. Press your fingers into her bone. That's it. To the bone. Yes. Yep, there it is."

  "I'm not sure," Teresa said.

  "I am. There it is." Duncan pressed down on Teresa's hand. "Broken."

  "Yes. Yes, I suppose. It could be," Teresa began.

  "We have to take every precaution. Isn't that right?"

  "I'll put on a splint and tape it. She should have a doctor to set it properly," Teresa said and he shrugged.

  "If only we could get a doctor here," he sighed. "But there we have so little fuel, there is ice on the river. You know the boat is in need of repair. Besides, neither of them could make the journey even if the boat could. It's up to us to watch out for this sparrow fallen to the ground. Make no mistake. He has seen her. And Billy. And He's watching you, too. This is your greatest test, Teresa."

  Melody's murmurs were background music to Duncan's tune.

  We'll pray.

  We'll watch.

  We won't cause more harm

  As always, Duncan shamed Teresa with his judgment and his sense. They could not get these young people to a doctor until they were stronger. Duncan ran his hand over Teresa's shoulder and down her back. He said:

  "That leg needs a cast, Teresa. Do you understand?"

  "I'll try," she promised.

  "Treat her as if she is your daughter," Duncan said and then he chuckled. "I mean, the way you would treat your own daughter now."

  Teresa's jaw locked. He took one last long look at Hannah and went to see about Robert and Glenn and the all the rest to make sure the house was once again in order. Teresa went in search of what they would need to cast Hannah's leg.

  Melody stood alone in the twilight room trying not to think about how beautiful Hannah would be when she was well. But then she had a second thought. Hannah wouldn't be quite as beautiful as she probably was before. Teresa's stitches would leave an ugly scar.

  That, Melody thought, would be a pity.

  Sort of.

  ***

  Duncan opened the door of Pea's room and found her as he always did, bowed in prayer, waiting for God's call. He walked across the room and knelt on the large pillow directly opposite her. It had been like that since they were children: Pea Within herself and he waiting Without; Duncan listening to Pea; everyone else listening to Duncan.

  "So, Pea, it has happened. I expected something a little different. Heaven opening up. Seraphim. You know, like that. A big sign that it was time for me to, well, you know, heal everyone. That's what I expected. Ah, well. This is interesting, isn't it?"

  She remained silent and still, but Duncan knew she heard him. His voice was her link to this earthly world and hers, when she used it, linked him to heaven.

  "I don't know what to make of it. This is beyond me, Pea. Not my faith – I've always had that – just my understanding. That's all, Pea. What am I to do with them? Really? What? What, indeed."

  To pass the time, he picked at the carpet. He reclined, his long legs spread out to his side, his elbow on the pillow. When he got tired, he lay down with his hands laced behind his head and stared at the ceiling. He considered the walls and his handiwork. He hoped the room was warm enough for her. He stared at her and wondered about her face. It had been so long since Duncan had seen her face that he had forgotten what it looked like. It must be so different now, womanly and not girlish. He couldn't remember a time she was upright. He wondered if she could even stand upright any longer.

  The hours bled away. He may have slept or dozed, but at some point he began to think that there would be nothing for him that day. He was on his own, and he didn't like that one bit. Just when he decided to leave, just as he was about to stand up, Pea made herself known.

  Her legs did not quiver under her gown.

  Her feet did not move.

  Her fingers remained tented on the rug.

  Her head stayed down, her face hidden by her fall of hair.

  From her throat came a trill, followed a balloon of sound, and a trill once again. Duncan got on his knees, clasped his hand, bowed his head, turned his ear her way to hear her clearly. When she spoke, the words and numbers tumbled out so quickly it was all Duncan could do to stick them away in his head.

  Hebrew: 13:2

  Galatians 5:14

  Leviticus 25: 35-38

  Jeremiah 22

  Jeremiah 22

  Jeremiah 22

  On and on Pea went. When there was a final trill and swelling and trill again, Duncan's shoulders fell. He sat back on his heels, filled with awe and gratitude.

  "Thank you, sister," he whispered.

  He rose, took her head between his hands and leaned down so that his lips rested upon her hair. He breathed her in but could not smell her scent; he kept his eyes open but could not see her. One day, when they were all worthy, after the healing, all would have the pleasure of Pea and God.

  He went on his way as he always did after his time with Pea. If Melody or Teresa had come out of the room next door he would not have noticed them. If Hannah had appeared on the stairs in front of him he would have passed through her as if she were a ghost. If Robert's great person had blocked the front door, Duncan would have simply raised a hand and disappeared him into the darkness. If Billy challenged him, he would swat him out of the way. That was how Duncan always left Pea: entranced and empowered.

  Duncan went down the stairs and out the front door. He walked through the freezing cold with only his light jacket. When Duncan walked past his own house, Glenn, who was sitting with Billy, got out of his chair to watch until he was past the stand of saplings. Duncan went by the old outhouse and finally came to the store where he veered off the path, climbed over the rock wall, pushed through the brush that almost covered the back door, and let himself inside the building. He flipped the switch and a bare bulb was illuminated. There were boxes stacked against three walls. He moved some of them and pushed open a panel in the wall that led to his private and sacred room.

  He sat down at a very old table that had been fashioned from the bow of the Ark, and had come to him by way of a trader he had met on his journey to this place. There were books on a small shelf along with his drawing tablets and paints. On the desk was the Bible that had been Duncan's mother's bible. She had not been worthy of it. It took him a long while to understand that the tradeoff – a good mother for the word of God – was not a bad one.

  Duncan put his hand upon the Bible, gave thanks for Pea's guidance, and prayed that he was a worthy servant. He wrote down the verses exactly as he heard them, set the paper aside for reference, and opened the book.

  Hebrew 13: 2

  Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.

  Leviticus 25: 35-38:

  If your brother becomes poor and cannot maintain himself with you, you shall support him as though he was a stranger and a sojourner, and he shall live with you.

  Jeremiah: 22:

  Do no wrong or violence to the foreigner, the fatherless or the widow, and do not shed innocent blood in this place. For if you are careful to carry out these commands, then kings who sit on David’s throne will come through the gates of this palace, riding in chariots and on horses, accompanied by their officials and their people. But if you do not obey these commands, declares the Lord, I swear by myself that this palace will become a ruin.

  Duncan didn't know how long he had been
studying the book, but suddenly he was aware that the cold in the tiny room had become tortuous. He shook himself like a wet dog, envying Pea her constant state of Within. How wonderful it would be to never feel anything. Duncan shut the Bible just as he heard the crackling and buzzing of the ancient radio. He smiled more broadly and put on the headphones. God and the radio were both chatty today.

  He heard nothing more than a trucker talk to his dispatcher about the meat he was carrying to Anchorage. Pity he was so far out of the way. Duncan would have liked steak. He took off the headphones and made a mental note to ask Robert what else was in the truck. Surely it was more than human cargo. After all, that was why Duncan had sent him out to look in the first place.

  Duncan left the backroom of the store the same way he had come. He walked across the compound, through the cold, the light snow and the wind. All the while, the words he had read were like neon in his brain, like a dry bush burning bright, like lightning striking: hospitality to angels. . .if a brother becomes poor he shall live with you. . .do no harm to foreigners and the King will ride through the gates . . . harm them and God will ruin this place.

  By the time Duncan went into the main house his step was lighter. He always felt better when there was something important to do. He felt better still when he saw the congregation gathered around the dinner table waiting for him.

  Waiting just for him.

  CHAPTER 7

  The seven-dog team pulled Andre Guillard's sled smoothly across the early snow that blanketed Denali Park. In the distance, Denali, the mountain itself, rose majestically. It, too, was covered in white. The weather had turned mid-September, which was unusual but not strange. Most of the people who had won lottery tickets to drive the one road that wound through the great park had not made it as far as Savage River because of the unseasonable snowfall. Andre needed neither permit nor car to travel here. Every inch of Denali – and then some – was in his care. He was an Alaskan State Trooper whose job it was to keep peace in what appeared to be a perpetually peaceful land.

  Which it was not.

  Dark days of winter made people fickle and fearsome or just downright crazy. Some were happy to hibernate and wait out the snow; but some were gripped with cabin fever and massacred each other over how the fire was stoked. Add to that the problems with poachers, subsistence hunters without licenses, and rescue missions, and winter was a trooper's challenge. At the moment, though, Andre wasn't challenged at all. It was almost sinful that what he was doing was considered work.