Twenty-three
Screams echoed over the roar of water. And above the shrieks Mara heard Clay’s frantic call, “Hold on!”
She grabbed the side of the wagon, but the water hit with a force that knocked her from it. Cold water clutched her body and flung her along its violent path. She went under, her heavy dress pulling at her. Water flooded her mouth, and terror filled her stomach.
Help me, God! The raging waters dragged her swiftly. She flailed her arms and kicked her feet. She surfaced, gasping for breath, and saw nothing, her vision blurred by the water. One breath later, she was tugged under again.
She held her breath, fighting the water. It knocked her hither and yon. Her lungs began to burn. She needed air. Desperation surged within her. Oh, God, help me!
Her body crashed into something solid. Her head spun with the impact. The force of it knocked the breath from her, and she drew in a lung full of water. She was choking! She fought the urge to breathe in, but her lungs were coughing up the water she’d taken in.
The water pinned her against the object, impeding her progress. In panic she reached out and grabbed on. Its surface was rough, round. A tree. She wrapped her arms and legs around it.
Her insides felt as if they would burst. Burning, searing pain filled her lungs. They continued to try to expel the water and, in doing so, brought more in.
She forced her arms and legs to move. Slowly she shimmied up the tree. When her face cleared the water, she stopped and gasped. A wave of water rushed over her again and knocked her head against the trunk. She crawled up the tree until her head cleared the water.
She drank in the air, coughing and choking. The force of water trapped her against the tree. When she could breathe again, she looked around. Clay! Mother, Father, Will! She longed to cry out for them but had no breath to do so. Her eyes scanned the watery grave around her. She saw no one. Her mother’s wooden hairbrush floated by. The water had carried her through town and down the road that now served as a ditch for the flow. Hills rose on either side of the water, and she saw that she was within a few feet of safety.
Then, coming toward her, her mother burst to the surface, her arms waving frantically. “Mother!” Mara called, but the woman went under again as she passed by.
Desperate to save her mother, she loosened her grip around the tree.
“No!” she heard, and her eyes scanned the distance. Clay! “Hold on! I’m coming!”
He ran toward her, his feet flying over the ground like a stallion’s. She looked downstream and saw her mother surface again. Help her, Lord! Help us all!
When Clay reached her side, he knelt down and extended his arm. “Grab on!”
She let go of the tree and reached out. His hand was still inches away. “I can’t!” When she leaned toward the bank, the water pushed at her as if trying to tear her from the tree.
Clay grabbed onto a nearby tree with one hand and extended the other to her again. “Reach!”
She tried again, but their fingers were still inches apart. She extended her arm as far as she could, leaning toward the bank, but they were too far away.
“Let go with your arms! Wrap your legs around the tree and reach for me!”
Her legs were already wrapped around the trunk. To let go with her arms made her vulnerable. The water could grab her upper body and carry her away. She looked at Clay then. His eyes shone with fervency, with love.
She let go and reached with her whole body. He grasped her hand and pulled. She unwrapped her legs, and he pulled her toward shore. He had her in both hands now, and her feet dragged downstream, her dress weighing her down.
She kicked, fighting the water, and Clay pulled her onto dry ground. She collapsed beside him in a heap. “My mother!” She pointed downstream.
“Are you all right?” He held her shoulders.
She nodded, breathless.
“I’m going after her.” With that, he turned and ran.
Mara pulled herself up. He might need her help. She stumbled along behind him. The distance between them lengthened as he ran on ahead. She walked and ran for a long time, her sodden dress clinging to her legs. She scanned the water. It was moving faster than she, and she realized she would never catch up with her mother at this rate. Only Clay could save her.
Dear God, help my mother! She doesn’t know You, and I can’t stand the thought of her dying now!
Her skirts tangled around her legs, and she nearly stumbled and fell but caught her footing and trudged on. Had her mother gone under the water for the final time? The woman had not swum since she was a young girl, and the raging current was dangerous for even the most proficient swimmer. She watched the water as she ran. Limbs and branches tossed about in the waves.
She saw Clay ahead in the distance. He was still running alongside the water, and Mara’s heart sank as she realized he hadn’t spotted her mother either.
Then, as Mara rounded a slight bend, she tripped over an exposed root and fell face down. The air was driven from her lungs. In that quiet moment she heard it. A faint moaning sound. She crawled to the edge of the drop-off and saw her mother. The woman grasped onto a branch that had caught between the trunks of two trees. She was about fifteen feet from shore, and the force of the water looked as if it would dislodge the branch at any moment.
“Mother, hold on!”
The older woman cried, her panicked gaze meeting her daughter’s.
Mara looked around for a branch to reach with, but she found nothing. She looked downstream where she could see Clay scanning the water.
She cupped her hands over her mouth, not knowing if he would hear her over the roar of the water. “Clay!” she shouted. When he didn’t respond, she shouted again.
He turned, and she waved both arms. He ran toward her.
“Hang on, Mother! Clay is coming.” But as she watched the water tug at the branch her mother clung to, she wondered if he would make it in time. She tried to reach the first tree, a few feet out into the water, but her arm was not long enough. If she stepped into the water, it would surely carry her away too.
Her mother’s white fingers held on with determination, but her body had been pulled past the branch. The weight of her and the force of the water would break the branch free of the tangle at any minute. Already the limbs bowed under the strain.
“Hurry, Clay!”
Her mother’s eyes were tormented, and Mara knew she was losing hope. “Hold on, Mother! Clay is coming!”
He arrived at her side just then and saw the predicament her mother was in. Immediately his eyes scanned the area, and Mara knew he was searching for a long branch.
“There’s nothing. I’ve already looked! I’ll stay with her while you find something!”
“There’s no time!”
She saw the branch her mother clutched was bowing and within inches of breaking or becoming untangled from the trees.
Clay jumped into the water before Mara could stop him.
“No!” she shouted. Her stomach grew sick as she watched helplessly.
He dove for the first tree and wrapped his arms around it. The water pulled at his body, but his strong arms held tight to the tree. Two other trees stood between him and her mother.
She watched with horror while he let go of the tree with one hand and grabbed onto the next. Quickly he transferred his other hand to the same tree.
One tree to go. Please, God, let him reach her in time! She stood helplessly by.
The next tree was merely a sapling, and Mara wondered if it had the strength to hold him. Her gaze traveled to her mother. The branch was bowing between the two trees and looked as if it would snap at any moment.
“Hurry, Clay!”
He made it to the final tree, though its top bent at his weight. He reached out to her mother.
“Grab on!” she heard him yell to her mother.
She saw the terror in her mother’s eyes. She seemed unable to let go. Just then the branch snapped. Her mother’s shriek filled the a
ir.
“NO!” Mara yelled.
Clay reached out and grabbed her mother’s dress at the shoulder. Her mother found his arm and grasped it for the lifeline that it was. His face strained with the force of the water. He pulled, and the sapling bent under the added weight. When he’d pulled her mother close to him, he yelled, “Grab on!” and her mother reached for the little tree. At the same time Clay reached for the bigger one beside it, still holding on to her mother’s arm.
Mara could see Clay’s feet kicking, and she knew he was trying to wrap his feet around the tree so that his hands would be free to help her mother.
Mara’s breath seized in her lungs. Her whole body shook with fear. Her mother, eyes wild with frenzy, now clung to the sapling with all her might.
Clay reached out for her mother. “Grab onto me!”
Her mother wailed and showed no signs of letting go.
Mara feared that the little tree would break. It was bowing toward the water already like a bulb-heavy tulip. She covered her mouth with her hands. Let go, Mother!
“You have to come this way!” Clay yelled. “The tree’s going to snap!”
Her mother seemed to register the words and reached out to him, clawing at his arm. Clay clasped her forearm with his hand and pulled her toward him. Mrs. Lawton hugged the tree, her face up against the bark. She coughed and sputtered water.
While she rested a moment, Clay moved to the next tree then coaxed the woman into his arms once again.
One more tree until they were near shore. The water rushed by violently, and Mara knew her mother could slip free of Clay’s grasp at any moment. Her arms must be dreadfully tired.
They maneuvered to the next tree, and Mara was relieved she could finally help. She knelt on the shore, grabbing a nearby tree for stability, and reached out her hand while Clay held her mother around the waist. Mara worried she wouldn’t be able to hold on, but when her mother’s hand clasped hers, she was determined she would not let go.
Mara pulled her mother while Clay pushed from behind. The force of the water was staggering. For a moment she thought they were not making any headway, but a sudden shove from Clay sent her mother toward the shore. Mara pulled, and her mother clambered onto dry land in a sodden heap.
Clay was several feet from safety, and Mara looked into his eyes. She saw determination there, but she wondered if he could span the gap of water between the tree and the shore. Grasping a tree with one hand, Mara extended her other to him.
He reached out and clasped hers and, in a sudden dive, pushed away from the tree and landed with his upper body on shore. Mara let go of his hand and pulled at his shoulders while he kicked his feet and scrambled onto dry ground.
Beside her, her mother coughed and choked up water until she vomited.
With her mother and Clay out of danger, her thoughts turned toward her brother and father. She looked at Clay. “We have to go find Will and Daddy!”
Clay shook his head, catching his breath. “They’re all right.” He lay on his back gasping for breath, his chest expanding with each shallow breath. “They’re back by the bridge. Your father was knocked out. Will stayed with him.”
Relief flooded through her. It wasn’t until that moment that she realized how exhausted she was. Beside her, Mrs. Lawton lay face down still coughing. Mara patted her back. “You’re all right, Mother. Thanks be to God, you’re all right.”
Her mother whimpered.
Clay sat up beside her. “You’re not hurt, are you?” he asked her mother.
The woman shook her head.
Mara felt Clay’s hand on her shoulder, and she turned to meet his gaze. His hair lay plastered to his head. Drops of water still clung to his lashes and coursed down his face. Still, he’d never looked better. His gray eyes reflected the pool of water they’d just been saved from.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded, her eyes tearing up. Thank God that Clay had come along when he had. She put her hand on his. “Thank you.”
He squeezed her hand then rose to his feet. “I’ll go check on your father. When your mother has recovered, meet us at the Farnsworths’. That’s where Doc is staying, and your father will need to be looked over.”
Before she could nod, he took off, running through the high grass.
Mara turned back to her mother whose breaths still came in shallow pants. The coughing had subsided somewhat, but her face was pasty white. Mara rubbed her shoulder. “Rest up, Mother. Everything is going to be fine.”
❧
Within two days Mara and her family were able to get their home mopped up and dried out. They were fortunate that the floodwaters had not risen much past their front door. Other homes and businesses in the town had sustained more damage.
The Lawtons had spent the first night with the Farnsworths, so Doc Hathaway could keep an eye on Mara’s father. But after some sutures and rest he was fine. Her mother seemed to have changed after the scary experience. She hadn’t once mentioned that her favorite gowns had washed away in the flood or that her beautiful imported furniture sported water marks around the legs. As the sun warmed the town with spring-like temperatures, the soil softened, and the floodwaters evaporated.
Mara had not seen Clay in the past week, though she thought of him often. At first, she hoped her mother’s change would include a new attitude toward him, but that hope ebbed away with the water. Her mother had mentioned neither Clay nor the way he saved their lives the previous week. Mara couldn’t imagine how her mother could still remain prejudiced against the man who’d risked his life to save them.
She pulled up the window sash by her bed to draw in the evening air then sat back down with her sewing. She pulled the needle through the fabric of what would soon be a gown for her mother. She was close to accepting Christ, Mara knew it. Perhaps at church tomorrow. Let it be so, Lord.
She had mixed feelings about seeing Clay again. She had relived the flood so many times in the moments before she drifted to sleep. She thought of the intensity in his eyes, the stubbornness in his jawline. Each precious feature was etched in her heart. Would the separation ever get easier? She had thought her feelings might fade with time, but they were getting stronger instead. It seemed so unfair. But then Mara had learned life was anything but fair. And when she thought of Ingrid’s death and how Cade and baby Adam were left to finish life alone, she chided herself for complaining.
She had just tied off a knot when she heard her father call up the stairs. “Mara, come down here a minute. There’s someone to see you.”
She hopped up and set her things aside, wondering if Beth had come to spend the evening with her. She hoped so. Beth always had a way of lifting her spirits.
Mara descended the stairs and entered the parlor where her parents were prone to sit in the evenings. Her gaze cast a quick glance around the room and stopped when it settled on the lone occupant.
He rose slowly from the settee as if mesmerized by her appearance, his hat clutched in his hands.
“Clay. . .” Any other words were lost in the jumble of emotions within her. Her breath froze, paralyzed with some mixture of shock and elation. She wanted to know the meaning of his presence but hadn’t the words to ask.
“Mara.” His gaze caressed her, and she could almost feel it tangibly. Chills rose on her flesh, though heat coursed through her blood.
“What are”—she cleared the huskiness from her voice—“what are you doing here?” Where were her parents? It registered that her father had called her downstairs and left her alone with Clay. Hope sprang up in her heart, but she tamped it down so as not to be disappointed.
She couldn’t deny the light that shone from Clay’s eyes, that beckoned her forward. She went as if pulled by an invisible rope. She stopped just out of reach.
“I came to speak with your parents.” His eyes shone with intensity, sparkled with fervor. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.
Her heart crumbled. She nodded. “Me too.”
/> “I could have lost you last week and would never have known—would never have known the full joy of being loved by you.”
Her vision blurred as tears formed.
“I came to ask your parents for permission to court you.”
Her heart raced. “What?” She had heard him well enough but was surprised he dared face her mother when they both knew full well—
“I passed your mother in the mercantile this week. She actually said hello.” His lips curved at one corner.
She tried to read his face, his eyes. Could it be true? Had her parents given him permission? She felt she would burst if he didn’t answer her unspoken question soon.
“They said yes.” His voice was filled with wonder, as if he didn’t quite believe it himself.
She released her pent-up breath and blinked, releasing tears, clearing her vision. Both hands covered her mouth. She was afraid to believe, but there could be no doubt of his meaning as his eyes smiled down at her.
“Mara Lawton, may I have permission to court you?” His voice was husky. His eyes twinkled.
She nodded vigorously. Elation rose within her as Clay took her in his arms and held her. She rested her face against his chest. His heartbeat echoed her own.
“I can hardly believe it,” she said.
She felt Clay’s chin rest on her head, heard his words whispered into her hair. “I’d have asked for your hand in marriage, but I didn’t want to push my luck.”
Laughter bubbled up within Mara. She looked up at Clay and knew her eyes were shining with all the joy in her heart. “I would’ve said yes,” she whispered.
“Keep that in mind for later.” A smile touched his lips before he leaned forward and sealed the promise with a kiss.
Epilogue
“What God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.” Pastor Hill’s voice boomed across the church. “Clay, you may kiss your bride.”
Mara turned to meet Clay’s gaze. An autumn breeze flowed through the window, ruffling his hair. His eyes smiled before his lips, and her heart soared with the newfound joy of being his. When their lips met, a fire kindled in her stomach, and the heat found its way clear to her toes. He was hers at last, and she vowed never to take for granted what God had given them.
Bittersweet Bride Page 16
