Chapter Thirty-Four
Never Thirst Again
The fruitful season of harvest finally had come. Elizabeth and Hawk walked along the rows of the garden that both of them had taken so much pleasure in planting, and Hawk remarked, “I’ve never seen a better garden.”
“It has been good, hasn’t it? I’m looking forward to the harvest celebration. We’ll have pumpkins and plenty of fresh vegetables.”
Overhead, the skies were a hard blue, and a wisp of clouds scampered across the horizon as the cool October wind rustled through the trees.
“What do you think about Paul and Rhoda? I didn’t think a preacher knew so much about courting,” Hawk said, a slight smile turning the corners of his lips upward.
“I think it’s wonderful,” Elizabeth said. She was wearing a dark blue woolen dress with a high collar and long sleeves and red ribbon along the edges. Her hair was ruffled by the cool wind, and she put her hand up to smooth it down, then said, “If I ever had any doubts about Paul Anderson, I lost them after the way he’s helped Rhoda. She’s a new woman in every way, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she is,” Hawk said.
“She’ll make a wonderful wife for Paul, and she loves the Scriptures and going on trips to the Indians as much as he does.”
“She’s got some kind of a gift for languages,” Hawk remarked. His eyes searched the horizon in his customary fashion as he added, “She’s learned more of the Cherokee language in a month than I learned in a year. Chatters like a magpie.”
“They’ll be happy. And Sequatchie is happy, too. Paul’s been able to help him do a lot to convince the Indians to accept that times are changing.”
“The work they’re doing with the Cherokees is good. I think the school they started is going to go very well.”
“God’s done a very wonderful thing in the lives of those two.”
They walked slowly down the rows of corn, stopping to admire the healthy stalks, and when they got to the end of the row, Hawk turned to her and said, “Elizabeth—”
When he said no more, but stood there looking at her, Elizabeth was mystified. “What is it, Hawk?”
“Let’s get out of the sun.” He turned and walked slowly toward a towering maple tree at the edge of the tree line. The maple had been left at Elizabeth’s request. It made such a magnificent spectacle, beautifully shaped and towering, and offered shade now, although the leaves were curling and falling.
When they reached the tree, Hawk turned and after a moment’s hesitation said, “I know it’s only been a little over a year since Patrick died. . . .”
Not knowing what to make of this, Elizabeth said quietly, “Yes, that’s right.”
“You still grieve for him, I know.”
“He asked me not to, and God’s given me a peace about that. I think of him often, every day. But the grief and pain are mostly gone now, and I think God’s done a miracle in the children, too. I still miss him, but I have a peace in my heart knowing he is with God.” They had left Sarah and Andrew at the Stevenses’ for the day, and now Elizabeth smiled as she thought of them. “You’ve been a father to them, Hawk.”
Her words stirred him. He kept his dark eyes fastened on hers and said abruptly, “Have you ever thought of me as a man you might marry?”
Elizabeth was taken completely aback. She stared at Hawk, and when he took her hands suddenly and held them, she was absolutely speechless.
He saw the surprise that leaped into her eyes and quickly said, “I never thought that I’d ever feel this way again, Elizabeth. When my wife died so many years ago, something in me died—love, or whatever it is that ties a man to a woman. All these years I haven’t ever thought of sharing my life with another woman, but I love you, and I’d like you to consider marrying me.”
Suddenly tears came to Elizabeth’s eyes. His hands were warm on hers as he held them tightly, and she knew what it had cost this man to say what he had just said. She prayed silently for a moment, for wisdom to say exactly the right thing, and finally when she spoke there was gentleness in her voice. “I think you know how very fond I am of you, Hawk. Oh, I’m grateful, of course, for all you’ve done for me and the children, but it goes further than that.” He still held her hands and she said, “I’ve been surprised that I could come to care for someone after losing Patrick.”
“You do care for me then?” Hawk asked quickly.
Instead of answering directly, Elizabeth withdrew her hands, clasped them together, and for a moment looked down at the ground. When she looked up, there was determination on her face. “The man that I marry, Hawk, if I ever marry again, must have one quality.”
Hawk instantly knew what she was speaking of, but said nothing for a moment. When she did not speak again he said, “It has something to do with God, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. I want to share the rest of my life with a man who loves God more than he loves me. Everyone has to have God in their life, and I could not bear living with a man who loved me more than he loved the God who created him. That was the way it was with Patrick and me. As much as we loved each other, we both loved God first.”
Hawk was silent, for this was unusual and strange to him. He looked off to the distant hills, swaying slightly as if indeterminate, and then he looked back at her.
Elizabeth continued, “If you had loved God more than you loved your wife, you wouldn’t have lived as you have all these years. When she died giving you a son, anger became your god, Hawk. Only God can have first place in a person’s life if there’s to be real peace. The man I marry must love God more than he loves me.”
“I don’t understand that.”
“When Patrick died, I was heartbroken. We had shared so much together, and it was a great loss not to have him around. But I had God to draw strength from because He was first in my life. I learned a long time ago that nothing is permanent in this life. Money, possessions, people—they are all temporary. We should not depend on anything that is of this world because it will not last. If Patrick had held first place in my life, I would have been devastated by his death. But since God is first, and He will never leave me, He was there when I needed Him the most. He is all that is truly permanent in this world. Somehow, Hawk, you have to lose yourself to God in order to be found . . . in order to have any peace in this life.”
“I don’t understand that either,” he frowned.
“Jesus said, ‘Whosoever will come after me, let him lose his life and he will find it.’ You’ve read that many times in the Scriptures.”
“I never could understand it. It seems that a man has to do what he can for himself.”
“If you hold fragile things too tightly, what happens?”
“Why . . . they break.”
Elizabeth struggled to explain her feelings. She spoke quietly for a long time, and finally he interrupted and said, “I don’t know how you can love a God who takes things away from people—like He took my wife and your husband.”
“If you believe one thing, that won’t be hard for you.”
“What’s that?”
“That God loves you. You know, I think you love Andrew. You two have become very close.”
“I do. I’m closer to him than I am to my own son, I’m afraid. If anything happened to Andrew—”
“But you see, God loves you more than you love Andrew, if you could accept that. Think of it like this. Would you do anything to hurt Andrew? No, of course you wouldn’t. But some things you would take away from him if they put him in danger. You wouldn’t have given him a gun if he was only three or four years old. He would have hurt himself with it no matter how much he wanted it. We have to trust that God works for the good in all people who love Him, no matter how hard the problems we face. Patrick certainly did that. He loved God more than anything.”
“We’re a million miles apart then, I guess, Elizabeth. I don’t understand a God like that.” Hawk looked at her and said, “I love you, but I can’t believe in a God who takes things away and hur
ts people.”
Finally Elizabeth knew just what to say. “Hawk,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. “Patrick was a gift. God gave him to me, and I had him for many years. What if I’d never had him at all? Then I wouldn’t have Andrew and Sarah. So, I have my memories of Patrick, and he is alive in them. It was time, in God’s judgment, for Patrick to go, but I still have him in a way. It would discredit his memory and the wonderful gift he was if I didn’t trust God and accept that.”
When he did not speak, she said, “You could’ve had your wife in that way, and your son, Jacob, if you had just looked to God. Faith was a gift from God. She belonged to Him, not to you. You should be thankful for the time you had together, and for the precious gift of your son.”
Her words cut Hawk like a knife. He stared at her for a moment, and his heart was filled with confusion. He shook his head and said, “I’m sorry I troubled you. Forget what I said.”
He turned and walked away, leaving her standing alone. She hurried to catch up with him, but he did not look back at her. Finally, he turned off into a side path that led into the woods, and she stood watching him and wanted to weep. “Oh, God,” she whispered, “don’t let him lose himself!”
****
Hawk found Paul and Sequatchie at Rhoda’s cabin. They were seated around the table, and Paul greeted him warmly, but as soon as Sequatchie saw his friend’s face, he knew something was wrong.
Hawk listened as Paul and Rhoda spoke for some time, and he saw the happiness they shared, and he envied it. He was still stung by Elizabeth’s hard words, but he said nothing of them. Finally Sequatchie said, “What is troubling you, my friend?”
Knowing that he could not deceive the sharp eyes of Sequatchie for long, Hawk said, “I’m leaving for a while.”
“Are you going hunting? I will go with you.”
“No, not this time, Sequatchie.” He saw the hurt in the other’s eyes and said, “I’ll be gone a long time. You won’t want to leave your people.”
“Why . . . where are you going, Hawk?” Paul asked with surprise. “It’s almost winter. You’ll be back before then?”
“I doubt it.”
Rhoda asked gently, “What is it, Hawk? Something’s wrong. Can’t you tell us about it?”
“Nothing’s wrong!” Hawk said sharply. “I just want to go hunting. I’ve been cooped up here for more than a year now, and that’s a long time!”
“Where will you go?” Sequatchie asked quietly.
Up until that moment, Hawk had not thought of it. Now he said impulsively, “I think I’ll go up northwest of here.”
“I wish you would let me go with you,” Sequatchie insisted.
“No, I think you would not be happy up there. I may never come back.”
Paul, Rhoda, and Sequatchie all had intuition into this man. They had all prayed for him, and now it was obvious that he was disturbed. Paul finally said, “Hawk, you have people who love you here. You have a place, a home. You could have a good life.” He did not mention Elizabeth, but he was well aware of Hawk’s feelings for her. “Don’t go. Stay here and make a life for yourself.”
“I’m going, and this is good-bye.”
“You can’t run from God always,” Paul said quietly.
Hawk started to say something, then stopped. He did not want to mar another farewell. He shook his head and said, “You’re a good friend, Paul.” He shook hands with him, then smiled faintly at Rhoda and took her hand. “You got a good man, and he’s getting a good wife. Be happy.” Then turning to Sequatchie he said, “Good-bye, old friend.”
“Elizabeth told me once,” Sequatchie said, “Christians never say good-bye. They gather to their people. I want you to be one of God’s people, but I see you must find your own way. Good-bye, my friend.”
Hawk turned immediately and left the cabin. As soon as he was out of sight, Paul said, “I want us to join our hands, and I want us to pray that God would break that man. He thinks he’s stronger than life and stronger than death, but he’s wrong. He’s got to be brought to his knees.”
The three joined hands and prayed fervently that Hawk would realize his error and see his desperate need for God. When they ceased praying, Sequatchie said, “I think God is on the trail of Hawk as a man on the hunt for a deer, and we will pray that God will find him.”
****
For weeks Hawk traveled, almost aimlessly. He had no will or desire to go to the Northwest Territory. He carried nothing but his musket, powder, shot, and salt, but he had no trouble finding food. At night he would build a small fire and sit staring at the dancing flames unable to sleep. By day he wandered through the forest, observing the beauty of the country, trying to forget Elizabeth’s hard words, but they would not go away.
As he traveled, he became more and more filled with a sense of lostness. And somehow he knew that wherever he went, or whatever he did, this would not change. Day after day his mind went back to his past. He thought less now of Faith, although memories of her came at times, but he thought a great deal of Jacob. The boy’s face would come before him, and the angry accusation he had made the last time he had seen him seemed to ring in his ears. Then he thought of Andrew and how close they had become—almost like a father to the boy.
One night he sat up till morning, keeping the fire going by feeding it small pieces of dried wood, listening to the sounds of the night. He heard the lonely cry of a wolf far off in the distance and felt a common kinship with him, except that the wolf traveled in a pack, he knew, and he was all alone. Wearily he extinguished the fire and traveled all morning. By late afternoon he had passed no creeks, for there had been a drought. The trees were dry, the ground itself seemed to crumble, and although Hawk had usually managed to find a spring or water of some kind, he found none as he rode along. His lips grew dry, and his tongue swelled in his mouth. He began to feel somewhat desperate, and just as he had almost given up hope for the day, he ran across a stream. It was no more than two or three feet across, and it was almost hidden by the fallen leaves of autumn, but eagerly he put his musket aside and knelt down to get a drink of water. It was cold, and nothing he remembered had ever tasted so good. But even as he drank, suddenly a sound broke through to him, and he instantly reached for his rifle, but he never touched it.
Across the creek, no more than twenty-five feet away, a deer had stepped out of the underbrush. Hawk watched with amazement as the deer seemed aware of him but did not flee. Gracefully, the deer lowered his head and drank.
As he watched the deer, Hawk was shocked to see that it had the same white mark as had been on the buck he had seen so many years ago.
That deer should be dead, he thought, almost in a daze.
The deer drank again, then without a waste of motion turned and disappeared into the heavy undergrowth.
Hawk Spencer could not believe his own eyes, but somehow he knew that deer was more than just another animal roaming the woods. He realized it was from God, and although he had never believed in visions, he had to believe that somehow this was a sign to him.
Forgetting everything else, he sat back and his mind was suddenly filled with the same memories that had been haunting him for weeks. Memories of the past, of Faith, of his parents, of his son, Jacob. He thought of Elizabeth, and of Andrew and Sarah, and Patrick. His whole life passed before him, and a great bitterness filled him. Others had attained happiness, and he realized he had thrown it away.
Hawk Spencer was a strong man, but as he sat there, he began to grow heavy and more sorrowful than he had ever felt before. To his astonishment tears of remorse gathered in his eyes. But what astonished him even more was that he had lost the hate he had had for God.
Finally, he lifted his eyes up, and cried out to God, saying, “Oh, God, I’ve been wrong all these years! But I’m hungry for you. Like that deer that was so thirsty for water, I’m thirsty for you. . . .”
Hawk didn’t know how long he prayed, but he knew that it was a long time. Years of regret and anger poured fr
om his broken heart as he wept and cried out for God’s forgiveness. When he finally became conscious of his surroundings, it was dark. Slowly he stood up, and felt strange—clean somehow. All of the bitterness and hatred that had dwelled within him for so many years was gone. Hawk Spencer looked up and said, “Thank you, God, for coming back into my heart. I will obey you the rest of my life, Lord Jesus.”
****
Elizabeth walked out of her cabin and headed toward the creek at the side of her home. She set down the oak bucket after filling it with cold, clear water and looked around at the familiar setting. She had been at this home of hers for over a year now, but she never tired of the magnificent view. She especially loved the scenery during this time of year. The leaves were resplendent with the vibrant colors of autumn—orange, gold, red, and yellow. The air was fragrant with the smell of fruits ready to be picked and the hint of the first cold snap.
Reminders of Hawk’s presence filled all of her surroundings. Most everything at the mountain homestead had been made by his hands and brought wonderful memories of times they spent together. She could picture him working on the cabin or taking Andrew fishing or teasing Sarah. Hawk had been gone now for several weeks, and the thought of never seeing him again saddened her. She had done nothing but think of him since he left, and slowly she had come to know the truth that she did love him. However, she did not regret her decision not to marry him. After having a wonderful Christian husband like Patrick MacNeal, she was not about to settle for anything less. But she did miss Hawk’s companionship.
The children were off with Abby Stevens again, and at these times she felt rather lonely. She sent a silent prayer heavenward that Hawk would find the peace of God wherever he was. No matter where he roamed, she knew he could never run from the One who was everywhere.
“I must snap out of this and get to work,” she admonished herself. “The house won’t clean itself!”
As Elizabeth picked up the bucket and turned to head toward the cabin, she noticed a lone figure come out of the woods and head toward her. Something about the figure looked familiar. With a small cry, Elizabeth dropped the bucket and whispered, “Hawk.”
Over the Misty Mountains Page 36
