by Amanda Tru
The older man nodded. “I’ll keep doing what you were doing.”
Jeff turned back and headed into the trees. “Blondie!”
He walked carefully, fighting the snowdrifts that came up to his thighs, fighting the wind, listening with all of his senses. All he could hear, though, was the sound of the wind and occasionally snow falling from tree limbs.
“Leif!”
Faintly, a bark.
He walked another ten feet, then yelled, “Blondie!”
Another bark. Feeling like this was important, he pulled out his phone and called Gloria. Before she could speak, he said, “Come to my side. The dogs are barking, but they aren’t coming to me.”
Seconds later, he could hear Gloria call, “Leif! Blondie!”
The deeper into the woods he walked, the louder and more distinct their barks became. About five minutes later, he intersected with Gloria just as he saw the yellow tail of one of the dogs.
Between the darkness, his cell phone flashlight, and her scarf, he couldn’t see much more than her eyes, but he felt such strength just looking into the steady determination in them. Somehow, any panic he felt got pushed to the side in the face of her resolve.
He gestured with his head. “That way, I think.”
She nodded. “I think so, too.”
He stepped in front of her so he could break the path through the deep snow. About fifteen yards later, he found Leif digging in the snow at the base of a tree. He used his phone to light up the area as Gloria rushed forward. He noticed the blue of Noah’s coat peeking out of the snow.
“Good girl,” he said to Blondie, who had rushed for him then rushed back. Gloria had to drag Leif back, and Jeff rubbed his neck. “That’s a good boy. You knew, didn’t you, boy?”
Noah sat against the tree, his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms around his legs, his head resting on his knees. Snow had drifted up all around him, then covered the top of him. Jeff ripped off his gloves and pressed two fingers against Noah’s neck.
He held his own breath, waiting, counting. “I feel a pulse,” he announced, then bent and scooped Noah into his arms. He didn’t explain his worry over the weakness of the pulse. He didn’t explain that Noah could easily slip into a cardiac event any second that could end the child’s life.
His little lips were blue, and his skin pale. Jeff pressed his lips against Noah’s forehead and did not like the temperature he felt. Gloria looked up at him. “Your house or mine?”
Gesturing with his head, he said, “Mine’s closer, and my bag’s there. Call your dad.”
She called Arnold. “We found him. He’s unconscious. We’re taking him to Jeff’s.” After a pause, she said, “I don’t think we should drive. You’d never see the road. It’s too curvy. Do me a favor and call Traci, let her know we have him and I’ll call her if we need her. Thanks, Daddy.”
Jeff held Noah cradled against his chest. He contemplated unzipping his coat and carrying him directly against his body, wrapping him up next to his skin, but he thought he might move faster this way.
They fought the darkness now, as much as the wind and snow. Gloria, with her short legs, broke the path for him until they reached the cleared area. Out of the trees, the wind picked up, and she leaned forward against it, struggling, stronger than he ever imagined. They tried to communicate, but neither could even hear the other. They screamed, but the snowstorm bellowed.
Ten long and arduous minutes later, they climbed the steps to his house. The second they got inside, he said, “Go to the bathroom. Start a bath. Hot but not scalding. We’re shooting for about a hundred degrees.”
He lay Noah on the couch and took off the boy’s boots and socks. His own winter garb started interfering with his movements, and he ripped it off impatiently. Noah’s feet were freezing to the touch. Moving deftly, Jeff slipped the coat and hat off of the small child, taking his gloves off with the coat. He ran his hands over his head, making sure he didn’t find an injury that would cause unconsciousness outside of the hypothermia. As he unzipped Noah’s pants, Gloria rushed back into the room.
“Can you check the temperature? Make sure it’s what you need?”
He looked at the strong eight-year-old and the petite woman. “Can you carry him?”
“Definitely.”
“If I bring you a thermometer, can you check his temp?”
“Of course.”
He squeezed her shoulder as he hurried from the room. In the bathroom, he adjusted the water slightly, then went to the linen closet and pulled out two blankets. He took them to the laundry room off of the kitchen and put them in the dryer, setting it to dry on high heat. In his bedroom, he grabbed his medical bag from the floor of his closet and went back into the front room, flipping on the switch to light the gas logs in the fireplace.
The front door suddenly opened, and Arnold came through with both dogs close on his heels. They came inside along with a howling arctic blast. A storm this severe would surely take lives. Jeff prayed it wouldn’t take Noah’s life. He handed Gloria the thermometer and some lubricant, then walked up to her father.
“What happens now?” the older man asked as he stripped off his thick flannel pattered winter coat.
“Now we get his body temperature up. We have a bath going. While Gloria has him in that, I’m going to make him some tea. He likes the blueberry kind, right?”
Arnold nodded. “Blueberry. Little bit of honey.”
“Eighty-eight point three,” Gloria said. He could hear the worry in her voice.
The loss of consciousness had indicated to Jeff a low body temperature. In the face of the cold, Noah’s body had begun to shut everything down starting with his extremities to help keep him alive. Even so, Jeff felt his stomach clench in response to the number. “Okay. To the bath. I’m going to get some tea heating up.” He pointed at the thermometer. “Take that with you.”
His bathroom was small, so he let Gloria and her dad go in. In the kitchen, he could hear her low voice as she spoke to her son. He turned on the burner under the kettle. Alone, nothing to do until the water boiled, he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes as memories assaulted him. He couldn’t push them back anymore, no matter how hard he tried.
Feeling the grief welling up like a geyser, he slid down the wall. His body shook with sobs, but he made no sound. Images flashed across his closed eyes, of his daughter and her frozen body. Of his wife and the wrecked car dusted with snow.
He heard the sound of a footstep and immediately wiped his hands away from his eyes, hoping to take as many tears with them as possible. Arnold walked in before he could recover, though.
“He’s moaning, Jeff.”
Jeff cleared his throat and nodded, feeling a rush of self-consciousness at getting caught sitting on the floor, crying. “Good. That’s good.”
Arnold lowered himself to the floor next to Jeff. “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now. But I owe you my grandson’s life.”
He shook his head and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall. “You don’t owe me a thing. I love him.” After a pause, he said, “And her.”
“At least one of you has finally admitted it. Been waiting for months.”
Despite the situation, Jeff chuckled then pushed himself to his feet. “I need to see to my patient.”
“I’m going to spoil some dogs. Got any steaks?”
Not caring whether Arnold was joking or not, Jeff answered very seriously, “In the freezer.”
Noah sat in Jeff’s leather chair, wrapped up in a heated blanket, directly in front of the fireplace. He had finally stopped shivering about twenty minutes earlier. His teeth chattering, and the uncontrollable shivers had nearly overwhelmed him. Now, he cradled a warm mug of blueberry tea in his steady hands. Jeff had allowed Leif to get into the chair with him. The golden dog took up half of the chair and lay with his head in Noah’s lap, helping to warm him.
Noah had dark circles under his eyes, and the tips of his e
ars and his nose were still bright red. But he had passed all of Jeff’s mental acuity tests.
“Did you know what to do in the snow?” Jeff asked.
Noah nodded and looked at him. “Bury myself in the snow. It helped insulate me from the wind. I forgot my hat, and I couldn’t find the house.”
He zoned back into the show playing on Jeff’s tablet.
Gloria had gone into the kitchen several minutes ago to heat up some soup for Noah. Jeff walked up to Noah and laid the back of his hand on his forehead. He felt warm to the touch. Smiling, Jeff pressed his lips to the boy’s forehead.
“That’s what mom does,” Noah said, his voice hoarse.
“That’s because she loves you.”
Noah looked up and stared at Jeff. “So, when you love someone, you check their temperature with your lips?”
He smiled and rubbed Noah’s hair. “It’s certainly a good sign. I’ll be right back.”
When he went into the kitchen, it didn’t surprise him to find Gloria standing facing the wall, her arms against the wall, and her face pressed into her arms. He walked quietly up to her and put both hands on her shoulders, gently turning her around. She immediately wrapped her arms around him, and a breath shuddered out. “I have honestly never been so scared.”
He closed his eyes and bent so he could rest his cheek against her head. “I know.”
“How did you keep calm? How did you know what to do?”
He raised his head, and she looked up at him. He brushed the hair off of her face and cupped her cheeks with his hands. “I’ve had a couple of years to think about ‘what if?’”
Lowering his head, he brushed a gentle kiss on her lips and then released her. He turned the burner off on the stove and poured the vegetable soup into a large mug.
“Did dad leave?”
“He did. He’s going home, then he said he was going to call some neighbors and see about getting the road plowed first thing so we can get Noah to the hospital. I want to make sure we caught everything in time.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “He’s awake. What are we worried about?”
“He is awake, yes. And cognizant. However, it’s best to run tests just to be safe.” He set the mug down and put both hands on her shoulders. “I just want to make sure kidneys are good, do some bloodwork. It’s not emergent. I would walk him to the hospital if I thought he needed it.”
She stared up at him with wet eyes then nodded. “I know.”
Turning, she grabbed the soup and carried it into the living room. He followed her.
She crouched next to the chair and took the tea mug out of her son’s hands, putting her hand on the tablet. “Hey, buddy. I need you to eat this soup. It’s warm, and it will help you get warm inside.”
He wordlessly relinquished the tablet and took the soup. Jeff observed the slight tremor in his hands. Noah always demonstrated a faint tremor, but not that extreme. He made a mental note to pay attention for the next twenty-four hours. Noah took a sip, and Gloria used the napkin in her hand to wipe his mouth.
“You did a smart thing, stopping by the tree,” she said. “I’m very proud of your thinking.”
Jeff crouched next to her and put a hand on Noah’s shoulder. “Yes.”
Noah looked at Gloria, his eyes intense, burning. “It wasn’t me.”
She cocked her head slightly. “What do you mean, baby?”
“There was a man. He told me to stay where I could see him.”
Jeff’s heart rate skittered. “A man?”
“I was walking and trying to find the path. I knew I was lost. And I didn’t know where to go.” His breath hiccupped. He reached out, and Gloria immediately put up a hand. Jeff reached around and grabbed the soup so that Noah could grip her thumb and middle finger with his hands. Jeff watched his muscles flex and relax as he squeezed and released her fingers in this familiar stimming habit. “I was worried. Then I saw the man. He said, ‘Noah, if you keep your eyes on me, you can’t ever be lost.’ And he went and stood by the tree and said, ‘You know what to do, Noah.’”
Gloria prompted, “What did he mean by that?”
“You know. All the stuff I know about Vikings. Well, I knew how to dig into the snow. That’s what they did when they couldn’t find a bear to kill. Vikings would kill a bear and climb inside it. But I didn’t have a bear or any way to kill one. So I had to dig. He helped me find that tree that blocked the wind, and I dug and dug and curled up in the hole.”
Jeff and Gloria made eye contact. Jeff could see the same questions in her eyes that swirled around in his mind. “Did the man say anything else?” Gloria asked, trying to puzzle out who could have been in the woods. Why hadn’t he brought Noah home? Where had he gone?
Noah nodded. “He just said to stay where I could see him and he would keep me safe. But it was warmer there, and soon I got so sleepy. He said to go to sleep and you guys would be there when I woke up.”
Jeff put a hand on Gloria’s shoulder. He felt her trembling. “Who do you think this man was, Noah? What did he look like? Did you recognize him?”
Noah released Gloria’s fingers and cupped her face with his little red hands. “I recognized him. It was Jesus. I was going to sleep but He said He helped me love Vikings so I could be saved.” Noah looked at Jeff then back at Gloria. “I told Him I was sorry for thinking He wasn’t really real.”
She grabbed his hands and brought them to her lips. Tears fell from her eyes. Silent sobs quaked through her body, rippling over to Jeff. He felt emotion clog his throat.
Jeff had not appreciated any kind of head trauma when he had examined Noah. He didn’t think that the cold could have resulted in a hallucination of this magnitude. As he was cataloguing the tests he wanted to run on Noah once they got him to a hospital, the little boy interrupted his clinical thoughts.
“Jesus said Doctor Jeff wouldn’t believe me. He would think something was wrong with my head.” Noah looked away from his mother and directly at Jeff. “He told me to tell you that Katrina never knew a thing. But there’s nothing wrong with my head. Who’s Katrina?”
Jeff gasped. Noah knew nothing about Katrina or Liz. He and Gloria had talked about what to say to him when and had never really reached a consensus. He didn’t know who moved first, him or Gloria. But somehow, they both had Noah wrapped in their arms with their arms around each other. “Thank you,” Jeff whispered. “Thank you, God.”
Christmas Eve
1 Year Later
Gloria stood in the middle of the yard and looked up at Jeff’s house. A week ago, the building inspector had signed off on all of the renovations, and they spent the last week moving in all the way. They’d added an entire second floor to Fitz’s old place, expanding the two-bedrooms into four, creating a family room and adding a formal dining room.
Since their May wedding, Jeff had lived in her bedroom at her dad’s house. All she wanted for Christmas was to wake up in their new home. They’d all worked tirelessly to make that happen.
Jeff came out of the house and waved her forward. “All ready,” her handsome husband said with a grin.
She whistled, and Noah came out of the new barn. “Can we go in yet? Can I count my presents?”
She held out her hand, and he raced up to her and grabbed it. “Let’s check it out. I know I can’t wait.”
“Well, you don’t get any presents. Remember? Neither does Dad. I don’t know why you think a house is a sufficient Christmas present. It’s hardly a surprise.”
Joy flooded her heart, coming out in laughter. They walked up the steps, and Jeff met her at the doorway. “Don’t even try to carry me,” she said with narrowed eyes.
He ran a hand down her rounded belly. “I can carry you.” Before she could further object, he swept her into his strong arms and carried her over the threshold, pausing just inside the door to give her a warm kiss before gently setting her down. An uncontrollable giggle spilled out of her.
She looked around the once familiar front room
. “Oh Jeff,” she said on a breath, spying the Christmas tree in front of the window. Jeff flipped a switch on the wall. The tree lit up. She walked over to it and fingered the familiar snowman ornament Noah made in first grade. “How did you do this without me knowing? I hung this ornament on our tree a week ago.”
He winked at her. “I can be sly.”
From the floor by the tree, Noah said, “One, two.” He paused and dug further, then loudly announced, “Three!”
He jumped up and automatically hugged Jeff. “I’m so relieved,” he said, then rushed to the bottom stair. “Mom! I want to see my room!”
She laughed. “So, go!”
They followed at a more leisurely pace. She and Wilma had worked for the last month on colors, furniture, decorations. She grinned at Noah’s loud exclamation. Clearly, he found his bed in the shape of a Viking ship. In the upstairs hall, she looked up at her husband. “I’m thinking he likes his bed.”
He winked. “I’m thinking it’s a winner. Hopefully, we have a couple of years before he loses interest in Vikings.”
In a rush of pregnant emotions, she blinked back tears. “I will be okay with him loving Vikings forever.”
They stood in the entrance to his room and watched as Noah ran his fingers over the dragon masthead. Jeff put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. “Me, too,” he said.
The End
Suggested luncheon menu for a group discussion about Blizzard in the Bluegrass.
Those who followed my Hallee the Homemaker website know that one thing I am passionate about in life is selecting, cooking, and savoring good whole real food. A special luncheon just goes hand in hand with hospitality and ministry.
In case you’re planning a discussion group surrounding this book, I offer some humble suggestions to help your special luncheon talk come off as a success. This book’s menu celebrates the Christmas dinner.