“Pam,” he shouted.
There was no response. She couldn’t hear him over the rushing waters. He came a bit closer, moving more slowly. He heard her crying. She appeared to be weaving back and forth.
“Pamela,” he called again.
She turned, jumped up, and ran to him. “Oh Mac. I am so sorry. I was wrong, so very wrong. And now the end of the world has come and you’ll never know.”
He opened his arms, and she collapsed into them. “It’s not the end of the world.” He glanced back up at the sky. “Perhaps it is. But nothing can be that bad.”
“I lied, Mac. I lied to you. I’m not who you think I am.”
“What? You’re not Pamela Danner?”
“No, I mean, yes, I am but … oh Mac, I’m so scared. I was praying to God, asking for forgiveness for my life, for lying to you, for everything I’ve ever done wrong. And when I opened my eyes, the heavens were on fire. I’m such a wretched person. I’ve insulted God.”
“Shh, please slow down and tell me what this is all about.” Mac cradled her protectively in his embrace.
He watched as thousands of stars burned long white trails across the sky and continued to fall at an incredible rate. Objectively, he knew she couldn’t have sinned so much that her mere confession would set the heavens ablaze, but he couldn’t help wondering what she had done to believe she had.
Yet if this was the sign of the return of Christ, how much time on earth did he have left? And why should anyone’s sins against him matter? Thankful he’d spent some time with the Lord the previous morning, he knew he had little to repent for. Little, except for the kiss he’d shared with Pamela a few hours ago. Mac fired off another prayer, asking for the Lord’s forgiveness.
“Come on,” he said gently to Pamela, “let’s check on Urias. If one of those fireballs hits, I don’t want him to be caught unaware.”
She followed in silence. He wondered if she were going into some kind of shock. Not that he wasn’t on the border of it himself. Never had he seen anything like this before. The scent of sulfur hung in the air. Was this the hellfire and brimstone some preachers spoke of?
At the campsite Pamela again fell to her knees and continued her silent pleading with God. What had this woman done? And what did she mean by she wasn’t who he thought her to be?
The money. He eyed her cautiously. Was she a bank robber? Or worse? Had she caused the wagon to roll and kill her husband? No, that wasn’t it. She wasn’t that kind of person. She had too much compassion and too much fear to be that brutal. What could she possibly have done that kept her on her knees crying before God?
Father, am I so full of pride that I can’t see my own sins? Should I be on my knees repenting? He searched his heart and knew he was free of the guilt of Tilly’s death. Daily repentance kept him right before God. Pamela, on the other hand, did have mixed-up views of God. And her beliefs in omens and superstitions were definitely not healthy. Lord, I know I’m not perfect, but I am content in my relationship with You. I have peace; I’m not afraid.
Reaching the tent, Mac entered and nudged the boy’s shoulder. “Urias, wake up.”
“Huh?” A lump of red curls rose from the bedroll.
“The heavens are on fire. You best get right with God Son. I think it might just be the end of the world.”
“What?” Urias stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it.
“Look.” Mac flung aside the tent flap and exposed the brilliant view.
“The sky is on fire.”
Mac grinned. “That is my point. Come on; join Pamela and me. I’m afraid one of these fireballs might hit the wagon or tent.”
Urias scrambled for his pants and hiked them up as he stumbled out of the tent. “I swear, I didn’t do nothin’.”
“Look, I’m not one to force my religion on anyone, but the Bible says in Mark 13:25 that when Jesus comes again, ‘the stars of heaven shall fall, and the powers that are in heaven shall be shaken.’ The choice is yours.”
Urias’s eyes widened. “What can I do?”
“Pray, pray like you never have. If this is the end of the world, time is short.”
Urias knelt down near Pam and silently pleaded with God.
Mac knelt beside him and praised God. Father, forgive me for forcing the boy. If this isn’t right, help me love him into the Kingdom. I just don’t want to see him go to hell.
After prayers, they all gathered together and sat in silence, watching the heavens burn. Mac kept wondering why he was still here. If this was the end of the world, why hadn’t anything happened? Where was God, and why were they still sitting on earth?
“Mac.” Pamela’s voice cracked.
They’d been watching for hours.
“I’m not a widow. Quinton was my brother.”
“What?”
“Quinton was my brother. We weren’t married.”
Anger welled up within him. She’d lied. She did say she had a brother, but … He’d felt so guilty for kissing a recently widowed woman, only to discover now that she wasn’t a widow. “But you said—”
“I never said he was my husband. You said it. I simply didn’t correct the mistake. I didn’t know you. I feared for my safety. A man was more than likely going to give a woman more sympathy for being a widow than a—a …”
Mac took in a deep breath. She’d deceived him for her own selfish reasons, and he’d fallen into her trap. Just as he had for Tilly. What kind of fool am I?
“Fine,” he said, cutting her off. “You repented. It’s between you and God, not me.”
“I’m sorry.” She left Mac and Urias and returned to the wagon as the last of the fiery missiles streaked across the blackness.
Pamela snuggled under the covers. Fear over the past couple hours had exhausted her. Finally, Mac knew the truth. But the pain she’d seen in his eyes—Tilly had deceived him, and he’d married her. She knew he felt the same sting from her own omission.
The next few days went by in silence. Urias wasn’t too sure about his forced prayer to give himself to God. Mac barely spoke a word. And Pamela listened to other travelers speaking about the night it rained fire. Many, like Urias, had confessed their sins and accepted salvation due to fear. If she was grateful for anything, it was that she’d confessed her sins before the stars burned.
They reached Jamestown in five days. Mac’s parents willingly opened their home to Pamela and Urias. She wondered if she could travel the next two days to Creelsboro on her own. Or possibly hook up with another group of travelers heading down there. Of course, Mac wouldn’t hear of such a thing. He still took his oath to Quinton seriously, and no matter what his feelings might be about her, he’d fulfill his promise. Pam knew that in the depths of her heart. She ached for Mac. She wasn’t like Tilly, at least she hadn’t meant to be. The closer she came to Creelsboro, the more she didn’t want to go. Her father’s dream had become her nightmare. Where would she ever find peace?
Pam worked her way toward the woods behind the farmhouse. She needed time to think. The dry, empty fields ready for planting next spring reminded her of how empty her own heart was. She’d fallen in love with a man who could never love her because she’d deceived him. There had been peace, comfort, a sense of belonging when she was wrapped in Mac’s arms. Now, she’d never know that peace again, unless …
She eyed the large farmhouse. She thought about her experiences on the trail the past five days. They’d been long and hard. When Mac had said the road wouldn’t be as nice as the Wilderness Road, he hadn’t been fooling. Mac had taken to running again. He had let Urias and herself ride the wagon. He claimed he needed to keep his muscles in shape or he wouldn’t be able to get back to his winter cabin before the severe storms hit.
The image of the rugged mountain man dressed in his leathers, running ahead of them or beside them, sent chills down her spine. His long black hair danced on his shoulders as he stepped with a perfect beat. “God, what can I do to show him I’m not like Tilly?”
“Hello,” a gentl
e feminine voice called from behind Pam.
She closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and turned to face Mac’s mother. “Mrs. MacKenneth. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come up.” Had Mac learned that trait from his mother?
“When I’m lost in thought, I often don’t hear so well. Nash has told me about your losses. I’m sorry.”
Nash? Oh, right, Mac’s first name. He seemed more like a Mac than a Nash. “Thank you.”
“He’s also been telling me about this young boy you two rescued on the road. He says you’ve offered him a job at your store.”
“Ah, yes. Mac also invited Urias to come and live with him,” Pamela replied.
“Forgive me for being forward, dear, but why would you want to take on the responsibility?”
Pamela didn’t know anymore. “I like the boy, and I thought I could help him receive an education. He isn’t able to read, you know. He thinks he’s hidden it from us, but I’ve seen the signs before.”
“I taught my children at home.”
Pamela smiled. She’d wondered where Mac had received his education. “You were a good teacher.”
“Nash always had a way with books and learning. Betsy, well, she couldn’t be bothered with it. Lisa loved to read, but numbers … she just never got the hang of them.” Mac’s mother motioned to the space on the bench beside Pamela. “May I?”
Pamela slid over. “Of course.”
“My dear, if I’m being nosy, just tell me, but what happened between you and Nash?”
Pamela kneaded her hands in her lap. “Nothing, we just sort of grated against each other from the start.”
Mrs. MacKenneth looked down her pencil-straight nose and raised her eyebrows.
“It didn’t help that I lied to him,” Pam added.
“Ah, about your being married.”
She nodded. “I never really said I was married to Quinton. Mac assumed it, and I just felt I was safer if he believed I was a widow. Is that so wrong? A woman alone in the wilderness with nothing more than a tall mountain man looming over me?”
Mrs. MacKenneth chuckled. “I see your point. But once you knew you could trust him, shouldn’t you have told him the truth?”
“I tried, but every time something came up or we’d argue about something else. Begging your pardon, Mrs. MacKenneth, but your son can be a pretty obstinate man.”
The older woman patted Pamela’s knee. “Oh, I seem to know a little about that. Tilly didn’t understand that, and she pushed and pushed Nash. He’s never talked much about what happened between the two of them, but something happened on his trip here with you. He’s finally released the guilt he’s carried for so long.”
A loud clanging noise echoed in Pamela’s ear. Mrs. MacKenneth jumped up and ran toward the house. “Emergency,” she hollered.
Mac laid his father on his bed. “I’ll get the doctor.”
“What’s wrong?” His mother’s voice shook as she glanced through her bedroom doorway.
“Dad’s hurt. I think he might have broken a hip. I’m going to get the doctor. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He slipped on his coonskin cap and within two strides was out the front door.
“What’s the matter?” Pamela asked, huffing. Catching her wind, she braced herself against the porch railing.
“Father’s had an accident. I’m getting the doctor. Help my mother.” Mac jumped off the porch. “Please.”
He ran toward the center of town. Finding the doctor at his home had been an answer to prayer. Within seconds they were in the doctor’s carriage and speeding back to the farmhouse.
Hours later, Mac had some memory of telling the doctor all he knew about the accident, but when he found himself pacing the front porch, he had no true memory of the event. Had he dreamed it? Was it real? Had the accident even happened?
The front door opened with a creak. “Doc, how is he?” Mac asked. Everyone gathered around the doctor.
“His hip is broken. You called it right. Hopefully it will mend well. He’ll need to stay off it for weeks.”
Mac nodded. He would make certain his father stayed down. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Sorry I couldn’t give you better news. I’ve set the bones in place as best I could, but it’s up to the good Lord to bring healing in a joint like that.”
Mac swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn’t picture his father an invalid. The man hadn’t been sick a day in his life except for a sniffle now and again. “I’ll take care of him.”
“You do that, son. I’d best get going. The missus baked me an apple pie, and all that good cooking in your kitchen got my stomach a-churning. Good night, Mac.”
“Night, Doc.”
Urias stood beside him. “Does this mean we won’t be going to your cabin in the gap?”
“Afraid so.”
“What about bringing Mrs., I mean, Miss Danner to Creelsboro?”
The point of Pamela not being Mrs. Danner still stuck in the pit of his stomach. “Tell the folks I’ll be back shortly.”
“But, what about—”
“Later.” Mac ran off again, this time to the neighbor’s farm. If anyone could be trusted to take Pamela Danner to Creelsboro, it was Tanner James, his childhood friend and neighbor.
Thirty minutes later he stood on Tanner’s front porch, explaining the situation. After a quick handshake, the men parted. Tanner would take Pamela Danner to Creelsboro in the morning. Urias would join them, and the boy would then decide where he wanted to live.
Mac reached the farm about dusk. The dim light from the oil lamps glowed, welcoming him home.
“Nash, your father’s been asking to see you.” His mother wrapped her soft, cuddly arms around him.
“How is he?”
“In a lot of pain, but the medication the doctor gave him has been helping.”
Pain medication. His father would never take the stuff unless he was in agony. Mac released his mother and went to his parents’ room. His father lay motionless on the bed. This once-vibrant man appeared weak. Mac’s stomach tightened. Beside the bed, a lone chair stood. He knew his mother had kept it warm since the accident. He sat down and prayed.
“Nash,” his father croaked. “I’m glad you’re here, son. I’ll need you to take care of the farm.”
“You know I will. I’ve asked Tanner to take Miss Danner to Creelsboro.”
His father gripped his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you. God brought you home at the right time, son.”
Mac smiled. “Yeah, I believe He did. Rest, Father. I’ll see you in the morning.”
His father nodded his sparsely covered head, then closed his eyes.
Mac got up to leave the room and found Pamela in the doorway with a tray of food. No doubt she’d overheard the news that he wouldn’t be taking her to Creelsboro.
“I thought you might like to have something to eat while you visited with your father,” she said.
He reached for the tray. “Thank you. I’ll eat in the kitchen.”
She nibbled her lower lip. “I take it I leave in the morning?”
“Yes. I’ve asked Tanner James to escort you to Creelsboro. He’s a good man. I’ve known him since I was five. You can trust him. And he knows you’re not a widow.”
She pursed her lips.
Mac sighed. “Sorry, that was uncalled for. I’m tired, and I have a lot on my mind.”
“I’ll go pack.” Pamela retreated down the hallway, the hem of her skirt fluttering out behind her.
Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough. Every time he saw her, he wanted to wrap her in his arms. But he’d been a fool once, and he wasn’t about to be a fool again. Tilly had taken every ounce of trust he had in the opposite sex and thrown it away. Pamela was no different. She was a liar, too. He had to keep reminding himself of that. It was the only sane thing to do.
He set the tray on the kitchen table and removed the pie tin she’d placed over his plate. The aroma made his stomach gurgle. Unlike Tilly, the w
oman could cook. Bowing his head, he said a prayer of thanks and asked the Lord to give Pamela safe passage to Creelsboro.
The next morning he found himself up early milking the cows, tending the chickens, feeding the livestock. Tanner and his wife, Elsa, drove over in their wagon. After brief introductions, he waved Tanner, Pamela, and Urias on their way to Creelsboro. Elsa returned to her farm.
Later Mac found himself in the barn. He noticed lots of little things that were out of place, partially finished. His father was slowing down. Perhaps the time had come for him to stay in Jamestown and take over the farm.
Chapter 17
Creelsboro was a small town full of people. More people traveled through the area than actually lived there, Pamela had observed over the past two months. She had finally decided to put the store up for sale and hoped to return home to Virginia in the spring.
If she’d learned anything over the past several weeks, it had been that she didn’t belong in Creelsboro, never had. Quinton would have thrived here. But Pam knew she could never enjoy it. Marriage proposals came daily from men heading west. The other merchants didn’t take her seriously until they needed some of her stock.
She’d set up a system of regular shipments of supplies that kept her store well stocked. The prices she could charge for items were practically criminal. But there was no joy in turning a profit. Her mind continued to replay the events of November thirteenth, the night it rained fire. The night she fell in love and lost him.
People still spoke of that night. Some folks had started attending church services after their hurried confessions. At recent Sunday services, however, she’d noticed the congregation thinning. Thankfully, her confession had not brought down the heavens. But the fear of that moment still struck deep in her heart as a reminder to stay right with the Lord and not fall into the silly notions she had been so easily swayed by.
News was spreading of a scientist, Denison Olmsted, and his findings about the meteor shower. He claimed folks from Boston to Ohio had seen the incredible display. He also said it would be seen again—that the meteors were from a cloud in space. Pamela wouldn’t argue the man’s findings; they seemed logical. She only knew that God had used that night to set her on the right track with Him. That she didn’t need to live in fear of the elemental spirits of this world, as Mac had pointed out.
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