Patsy flicked a glance of thanks toward Niklaus. Shem and Charles side by side looking down on Noah was not an effective arrangement. Both of them would be in better service if their hands were fully occupied.
Shem exhaled and pushed himself up off the ground. “If Noah comes to greater harm, you will all be responsible.”
Charles grunted and stood as well. “Is that how you propose to please God?”
“I propose to please God,” Shem said, “by holding fast to the faith that was handed down to me and not to cater to softening toward the ways of the world.”
Patsy was on her feet in an instant. “What a ridiculous thing to say.”
Susanna tugged Patsy’s arm, but Patsy shirked her off.
“I’m sick and tired of all this bickering,” Patsy said. “We have in our midst three ministers and one poor preacher who did not ask for this calling or gift. The only one who seems to be speaking the Word of God is lying on his back in the trees. Do you feel no shame at the way you speak of him?”
“Patricia,” Charles said. “Mind your tongue.”
“And you yours.”
Niklaus stepped between father and daughter. “We must all remain calm. We are here for Noah. No good will come from inflaming a quarrel.”
Patsy nodded and turned away.
Charles followed Niklaus and Adam to secure ropes to the trees and to themselves.
“Noah is bleeding,” Susanna said.
Both Patsy and her father turned their attention back to Noah.
“Are you sure?” Patsy said.
Susanna pointed.
“It is too dark and too far to see,” Patsy said.
“I have been watching carefully,” Susanna said. This was not the time for her best friend to doubt her.
“I agree with Patsy,” Charles said. “We cannot be certain.”
Must everything be an argument? Susanna leaned with her lantern as far out over the drop as she dared. She was the one who had been watching Noah all this time rather than bickering. Gradually she moved the lantern to the left and then swept it back toward the right. If only Noah would focus his eyes on the light, she might know that he was all right. His preaching voice was fading, though he still muttered and had not yet begun the Lord’s Prayer. Even in his weakened state—Susanna was certain he was bleeding from the back of his head or shoulder—he remained fallen under. In that condition, he would not know to help himself.
“Please hurry,” she said, turning toward Niklaus and Adam.
One wrong move would send Noah tumbling farther down the mountainside, and they would have to find another position from which to rescue him.
And it might be too late.
“On this holy mountain,” was the only phrase Susanna could understand now.
His legs now straddling one of the thickest branches and his hands fumbling to find where they belonged, Noah tried to sit up.
Susanna stomped a foot. “Someone must go down right now.”
CHAPTER 37
Dragging a length of rope behind him, Niklaus ran back to the edge of the ridge and squatted to once again assess Noah’s safety.
“Hold the lantern out,” he said, “as far as you can.”
Susanna complied, leaning farther forward than Niklaus would have allowed under other circumstances. He gripped her upper arm, ready to maintain his hold if she slipped any closer to the edge. Certainty was difficult to grasp as shadows lengthened and hues darkened from one moment to the next, but the peculiar spread of the color under Noah’s back was convincing of Susanna’s suspicion.
“Take care for yourselves,” Niklaus said, and both Susanna and Patsy inched back.
Niklaus glanced at the trail of rope waving through the dirt. His was the longest. The two Adam had retrieved from Noah’s barn were newer and more tightly braided but shorter. He may have underestimated the distance to Noah. If either of the other two pair of men, English and Amish, had turned up, they might have had more to work with. But they had not arrived, and Niklaus did not now expect them.
Beside Niklaus, Shem grabbed the end of the rope and began to tie it to his waist.
“Tie me to a tree,” Shem said. “I will go down and talk some sense into Noah.”
“He does not need talking to,” Niklaus said. “He needs rescuing.”
“I will impress upon him that he must participate in his own rescue.” Shem finished his knot.
In one swift motion, Niklaus tugged a loop in the knot and undid it. Shem would be no help in the treetop where Noah sat muttering. Stabbing Noah with a needle should have made that clear. Shem resisted now, slapping away Niklaus’s hand and grasping for the rope—and knocking against Susanna and disturbing her careful balance.
She shrieked as the lantern in her hand slipped off her fingers and banged against rock as it tumbled beyond reach and shattered.
Niklaus pulled her to her feet. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, breathing hard.
Niklaus turned to Shem. “You might have caused Susanna to fall and set the mountain on fire as well.”
“Since I did not,” Shem said, “clearly it was not Gottes wille.”
Niklaus exhaled heavily. “Shem, I must ask you to step away for the moment.”
“You want to tell me what to do?” Shem’s feet did not move. “Adam, bring me the spare rope.”
Adam moved toward them, rope still coiled over a shoulder, his lantern on the ground.
“Adam,” Niklaus said, “stay where you are.” There was no spare rope. They needed every inch. Adam’s eyes darted between uncle and bishop, caught between them as he had been too often of late. Niklaus put his hand out for the rope. Adam avoided meeting Shem’s eyes as he slipped it off his shoulder and into his uncle’s hands.
“We are wasting time.” Susanna returned to her crouch at the ledge, this time without benefit of light. “Somebody do something.”
“We are four men here,” Niklaus said. “We will tie two of us to horses to pull us up once we have Noah. If the horses are tied to trees, we can be sure they will not bolt before we are ready. Is that understood?”
Every head but Shem’s nodded.
Patsy shook her head in the dark. The moon was new, offering no light to the ledge, and the trees below remained in the thickest gloom. Whether the bleeding was worsening was impossible to say, but even a small wound seeping steadily would become severe soon enough. As long as Noah kept talking, even just to moan, they could be sure he had not expired in the silent shadows.
“We’ll get to him,” Patsy said to Susanna. “We must believe that.”
Susanna did not turn her head toward Patsy’s assurance, but a shimmer of starlight glistened through the tears on her cheek. Noah’s volume had been steadily dissipating, but suddenly his voice once again burst out of the trees.
“‘Blow ye the trumpet in Zion, and sound an alarm in my holy mountain: let all the inhabitants of the land tremble: for the day of the LORD cometh, for it is nigh at hand.’”
“Cousin Noah has always liked the book of Joel,” Susanna murmured.
“We can hear every word,” Patsy said. “That’s a good sign. He yet has strength in him even if he cannot stand.”
If only there were a sense of holiness on this mountain ridge at this moment. Without looking—what point was there in watching the men squabble?—Patsy heard her father’s voice rise in remarks aimed at the Amish bishop. His caustic inflection would help no one.
“I want to call to Noah,” Susanna said, “just to let him know he is not alone, but he will not hear me.”
“He knows,” Patsy said. “He is wrapped in God’s care.”
“And if he moves?” Susanna said.
“Then he remains in God’s care.”
“Or if his wound is severe and the men cannot reach him?”
“He remains in God’s care.”
Patsy turned to watch the men. When they all left the Kauffman yard in the afternoon, Patsy had thought that the
more searchers who volunteered, the better it would be for Noah. Now she was not so sure. They would have been better off without the bishop, who seemed to shout out every thought that entered his mind, and her own father was using his outdoor preaching voice to spew his irritation.
Susanna put a hand to her forehead and squeezed her skull. “When will they stop?”
“They are securing ropes,” Patsy said. “Soon they will descend. It looks like Adam will lead the way.”
“Good.”
Adam was the logical choice—young, strong, tall enough to repel down the side of the mountain without getting his feet caught in scrabble undergrowth. And Adam was the only one of the four men not accustomed to being in charge and seeking only to do what was needful.
“Too many ministers are stirring the pot,” Patsy said. “They are all used to people turning to them for guidance, which they freely offer.”
“Ministers,” Susanna muttered. “Why can they not see that what is needed is submission to Christ alone?”
Adam flinched.
Shouts from the mouth of the bishop was not something he was accustomed to. Even if he disagreed with Charles Baxton or Niklaus, surely the circumstances called for more self-restraint rather than less.
“Mr. Baxton,” Shem said, “I have determined that this is no concern of yours.”
“Why is that up to you to determine?” Charles countered. “I am acquainted with Mr. Kauffman. My own daughter has been a faithful caretaker when he has needed it most, while I am given to understand that the only day you deigned to observe him at all was not to hear him speak the Word of the Lord but rather to further your own agenda of disproving his gifts.”
“None of this would have happened had you not interfered.” Shem poked a finger at Charles’s chest.
“I will kindly ask you to keep your hands to yourself.” Charles’s tone was now more constrained than Shem’s but no less fierce.
“Both of you!” The words left Adam’s mouth before he could think better of them. “Noah. Noah is what matters.”
Both ministers turned and stared at him.
“You will retract your impudence,” Shem said.
Adam shook his head. It was not impudence, but rather truth.
“Niklaus has a plan,” Adam said. “A good plan under far-less-than-ideal circumstances, and we would do well to assist him. Does our Lord not call us to unity and compassion?”
“Of course,” Charles said, “yet it behooves us to act responsibly with the limited resources at our disposal.”
“The resource of grace does not fail,” Adam said. “Right doctrine may be a worthy conversation, but this is not the moment to undertake it.”
“And who dares to preach now?” Shem said.
“I make no claim to preach,” Adam said, “only to serve with every gift I have to offer.”
Noah’s voice grew faint once again, even the wall of the mountain insufficient to supply its echo. Only scattered words reached Adam’s ears.
“‘In that day … wherein thou hast transgressed … thou shalt no more be haughty…’”
“What is he muttering now?” Shem spun toward the ledge.
“Zephaniah,” Charles said. “‘In that day shalt thou not be ashamed for all thy doings, wherein thou hast transgressed against me: for then I will take away out of the midst of thee them that rejoice in my pride, and thou shalt no more be haughty because of my holy mountain.’”
Adam had not recognized the verse, and he was certain Noah had no awareness of what was happening ten yards above him, but the quotation was apt, and he left it in silence. Shem and Charles both shuffled their feet.
“I will harness myself now,” Adam said.
Niklaus stood by with the longest rope, tying one end to Galahad’s bridle and double-knotting it. Adam began winding the other end around himself.
The only sounds coming up the mountainside were the skittering of an unseen animal and the caw of a crow.
“Stay right here,” Susanna said, pushing off her haunches.
“Where are you going?” Patsy twisted to look at Susanna.
“We need another lantern.” Susanna could barely make out Noah’s supine form on its bed of branches, and for the moment he had ceased speaking. She ached to hear him begin the Lord’s Prayer.
Susanna marched past Charles and Shem and even Adam to where he had left his lantern idle. When she snatched it up, it dimmed, but she neither sought nor required assistance in lighting it again. The men might think they had time to debate their strategy, but Susanna did not. She marched back to the edge, extended the lantern, fixed her eyes on Noah, and handed the light to Patsy.
“Right there,” Susanna said. “Whatever happens, you must not lose sight of Noah.”
“Of course not,” Patsy said, “but what are you going to do?”
Susanna stood once again.
“Susanna?” Patsy swung the light toward Susanna and looked up at her.
“Patsy!” Susanna could not conceal the urge to scold. “I said whatever happens, you must not lose sight of Noah.”
Patsy returned the lantern to the position Susanna had established. “What are you doing, Susanna?”
“Somebody must do something.” Susanna brushed her hands against her apron, though they would be dusty again as soon as she began her descent. “As long as I can see your light, I will have my bearings.”
She was not foolish enough to attempt an untethered direct descent. Her feet would remain on the ground, but she could find a less steep route and bank toward Noah from an oblique angle. Her mother had made her give up climbing trees years ago, but she could still do it if necessary. She glanced toward the men fumbling with their ropes and tempers.
“Go,” Patsy whispered. “Quickly.”
Susanna murmured thanksgiving for the stars spattering the sky. Even without the moon, she might find herself by the patterns of the stars if she paid close attention. Aggravation burned through her. Shem’s carelessness had cost them the lantern she might have carried with her, but she could not leave them with nothing on the ledge. Niklaus’s lantern still hung from a tree so the men could make their knots, and Patsy must keep her eyes focused on Noah.
How long had Noah preached? The hour was much later than his usual time to offer his final words of God’s grace, but nothing about the afternoon reflected the pattern she had come to regard as usual. Noah had wandered from the farm when he knew he ought to remain close at hand. He could have fallen under later than expected and remained so for longer. He might even now be preparing to pray.
Or he might be unconscious from his injuries.
Susanna stepped off the only path available and into darkness shrouded by the forest. Only a few steps from Patsy and already she had lost the light.
CHAPTER 38
Adam tested the knots, both the ones that formed the harness around him and the ones connecting him to Galahad and the horse to a tree. He raised his eyes to meet his uncle’s.
“Ready?” Niklaus said, his hands on Adam’s shoulders.
Adam nodded.
“The maedel will hold the light, and Charles will help guide the rope,” Niklaus said. “I will be right behind you. We will bring Noah up together.”
Adam paced toward the overlook, stopping every few steps to once again tug the rope and reassure himself the knots showed no slippage. At the spot where he had left Susanna, he found only Patsy.
“Where is Susanna?” Adam said.
Patsy gave no answer but simply braced her arm on one knee as she squatted and held out the lantern.
Panic coursed through Adam’s chest. “Patsy, where did Susanna go?”
“She was tired of waiting for someone to do something practical.” Patsy’s eyes did not leave the shaft of light the lantern cast into darkness over Noah.
“We were preparing as quickly as we could.” Adam gripped the rope around his waist. “Could she not see that?”
“Noah is bleeding,” Patsy said, “an
d he’s hardly talking beyond infrequent bursts of speech. He stopped preaching but did not begin to pray. He never does that. And all the ministers could think to do was bicker.”
“Do you mean Susanna is down there somewhere? Why did you not stop her?”
Patsy scoffed. “Stop Susanna once she has made up her mind?”
Adam peered into the darkness below, trying to find Noah’s form. “But she took no equipment. She cannot possibly succeed.”
“She will be with Noah. He will not be alone, no matter what is happening. That will be success. That is what she promised Phoebe she would do.”
“Onkel!” Adam reversed his direction, stomping back toward the horses. “Susanna has taken matters into her own hands.”
Niklaus released his grip on Galahad’s bridle. “Where?”
Patsy pointed in the direction Susanna had departed.
Niklaus turned to Shem. “Will she find a path that way?”
Shem pressed his lips together, thinking. “Not a path, but enough opening between the trees that she will progress.”
“But will she progress toward Noah?”
Shem shrugged. “This I do not know. ’Twill be difficult to maintain direction. She may find herself below Noah and have to climb up.” Adam fumbled with the knots he had been so careful to secure just moments ago. He wanted the whole mess off.
“I will find her,” Adam said.
“What about Noah?” Charles said.
Adam looked to the ministers. “There are still three of you, and Patsy at the light. Susanna has naught, not even a lamp.”
Niklaus watched Adam’s face, saying nothing.
“I will go before harm multiplies,” Adam said.
Niklaus nodded now and reached for the light on the tree. “Take the last lantern and the shortest length of rope.”
“We need a sensible plan,” Charles said.
If it were Patsy swallowed by the darkness, Charles would be halfway down the mountain by now. Adam shirked out of his harness, tossing the rope toward his uncle.
“We do have a sensible plan,” Niklaus said to Charles. “I will go down to Noah on my own and assess his injuries. If necessary, you can follow me down. That still leaves Shem and Patsy to manage the horses when the time comes to pull us up.”
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