“Geneva! What makes you say he doesn’t love you? After what you told me about your last conversation, it seems that he does love you, but he’s afraid you will hurt him. This will give him the opportunity to learn to trust you. At least give him that chance! And besides, you love him, that’s perfectly clear. This can make things right between you.”
“No,” she said, cupping her hand at the place she imagined the baby lay. “This baby doesn’t need to grow up under that shadow. It’s going to be the good part of what I have of him.”
“Geneva!” her sister wailed. “You can’t do that! I can’t believe I am hearing this from you! Why would you run away from the man you really love? What about this baby? Do you want it to grow up without a father?” Her eyes narrowed. “Is this your pride talking? Because you told me you had gotten rid of that.”
Geneva sighed. “Let’s talk about it later, Rachel. I’ll go talk to him, and we’ll see how it goes, ok? And I don’t have to tell you not to tell anybody, not even Wayne until I say you can.” She grimaced. “Or Mama and Daddy, either. Gosh, this will kill them.”
“No it won’t,” growled Rachel. “You aren’t the first Lenoir girl to get knocked up. Maybe the first not to marry the daddy, but they can take it.” She sighed and took Geneva’s hand. “I promise I won’t tell, but it’s not going to be easy.” And then the twins began to wail, and the conversation ended. Geneva fell silent, wrapping her turbulent thoughts around her like an untidy shroud.
The balmy morning wavered and turned. By ten o’clock, the temperature had dropped suddenly. Rain fell like birdshot on the last of the fall vegetables, and by the time Geneva and Rachel had closed all the windows, the rain had turned to ice, then to snow. Geneva stepped out onto the porch to call her cats, but when they didn’t show up, she shrugged and went back inside. They knew how to find the barn if they needed it.
Storm clouds began to pile up, thrown high and tumbled like a bed hastily departed, the sky darkened, and the temperature continued in free fall. Snow swirled in tiny white tornadoes against the pewter sky. Wayne came home.
“I was afraid I couldn’t make it over the pass with this snow coming down. The weatherman says that we could get six to eight inches before it blows over. I’ve never seen it snow this hard this early in the year,” he said, stamping the snow off his shoes.
Rachel stood at the door. “Wayne, I am worried about Sally Beth. She took off on Fairhope early this morning, and she isn’t back yet. “Do you think you ought to go looking for her?”
“Oh, no,” groaned Wayne. “Doesn’t that girl have enough sense to get out of the weather? Where did she go?” Rachel shook her head and shrugged. “Did you see which way she took off?”
“She went west, so she could be headed toward a dozen different places. Should I call Uncle Henry or Jackson to come help look for her? The snow is already sticking pretty bad.”
“Yeah, you better call them both. I’ll change clothes and saddle up. If there are three or more of us looking, we shouldn’t have any trouble finding her before it gets dark. Did she say when she might be back?”
“No, but she was in a hurry, and she had a big bag of stuff with her. I don’t think she was planning to picnic, though. We talked about the storm coming.”
Wayne stopped long enough to kiss his girls, then he disappeared upstairs to change his clothes. Geneva looked out the window. “Oh, I wish you had another horse! I should have gone looking for her when it started to snow. Now I am no use to you at all!”
“Shut up, Geneva. You need to take care of yourself. You can’t go riding those trails when they are slippery.” Rachel looked at her sternly before glancing out the window. “Oh! Here comes Sally Beth! And boy, is she moving fast!” They both bolted out the back door in time to see their cousin pushing Fairhope hard across the field to the west. She galloped right up to the back porch and reined in hard, leaping off his back and rushing up the steps.
Sally Beth, white with terror underneath the chill on her cheeks, her hair wind-whipped and tangled, grabbed Geneva by the shoulders. “Geneva, Holy Miracle is real sick! He is unconscious, and I cain’t bring him to! We got to get to him! Oh Geneva, Rachel! I think he’s dying!” She dashed away a tear that streaked down her cheek and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Geneva had never seen the usually composed and polished Sally Beth look so disheveled or upset.
Wayne appeared on the porch. “Where is he, Sally Beth?” asked Wayne.
“About three miles from here, up past Jacob’s Mountain. He lives in a cave there, and, oh, Wayne! He’s real bad! I tried to get him down to the horse, but he passed out, and it was all I could do to get him back in out of the snow and warm him up!” Her eyes were eloquent in their pleading. “Oh, please hurry! I think he’s dying!”
Wayne turned away from her to think. “I don’t know how we can get up there and get him out with horses, if he can’t ride. Maybe we could make a litter…”
“Oh, no! You have to go up over the rocks there. The horses cain’t even make it, you have to walk the last half mile. You’ll have to carry him out. Or get a helicopter! Oh, Wayne! Get a helicopter! Oh, please!” She was fighting hard to hold back the tears.
Wayne looked at her closely. “What does he look like, Sally Beth? Is he hurt? Anything broken? Bleeding anywhere?”
“No, he’s just sick!” He’s real pale and skinny, and he’s cold! I was taking him some clothes and food ‘cause I knew the storm was comin’, but when I got there he was just layin’ on his bed and shiverin’, and I got some soup into him, and then I tried to get him out to the horse, but I could only get him partway down and he just passed out on me. It took me forever to get him back up over the rocks and into the cave. He’s real sick, Wayne!” Sally Beth ended with a sob.
Geneva was taken aback. Sally Beth knew where Holy Miracle Jones lived? She had merely caught the barest glimpses of him on dappled summer days. Why did Holy Miracle let Sally Beth share the remote corners of his life, and not her or Rachel? Geneva had never worried much about his physical comforts; it had never crossed her mind to deliberately take supplies to fortify against the cold. A momentary stab of jealousy pierced her, and then waves of guilt cascaded and foamed. She stared at her cousin, wondering about this girl who nearly everyone had considered insignificant, and she was ashamed. Holy Miracle saw something in her that no one else, including Geneva, had, and Holy Miracle’s eyes looked deep.
“Okay,” Wayne was saying. “The hospital at Tucker doesn’t have a helicopter, but I have a friend over in Harrisonburg who has one, and he was a medic in the army. If I can get in touch with him, maybe he will fly out here. I’m sure he can land it on the bald there on Jacob’s Mountain if he can fly in this storm. Rachel, you call Jackson and Uncle Henry, and tell them to bring the horses. I don’t suppose John is back yet, is he?”
“No. He’s due back tomorrow, I think,” Geneva said as Rachel went back inside to make the calls.
Wayne paused to think. “The chopper is too small to carry more than the pilot and one crew member with a patient on board. I’ll ride out with Uncle Henry, and hopefully, Jackson can come, too. We’ll ride as far as we can, and between us, we can carry him. You say the cave is about a mile from the bald, Sally Beth?”
“Yeah, but there is another flat, bald patch jist above his cave. Don’t helicopters have a litter? You could just have them lower it and put him in it right at his cave. You won’t have to carry him so far.”
“Good thinking, Sally Beth. But we’ll have a hard time finding the place. If we have the chopper come here first, James, my friend, can land in the field and you can ride with him to show him the way. Once Uncle Henry and Jackson get here, we’ll head on out. Geneva, will you go saddle up Redneck and help Sally Beth put Fairhope back in the stall? I’ll go put on my boots and call James.”
“Wait!” exclaimed Geneva. “Who knows when Uncle Henry can get here? If it’s only three miles, Fairhope isn’t tired, and you and I can go ahead.”
“I can’t get hold of anybody,” she informed them. “Absolutely no one is at home, or at least not answering the phone. I even called Daddy, but they aren’t answering either. I’m betting everybody is out tending to livestock right now. What do you think we should do, Wayne?” she asked her husband.
“Geneva and I are going on. We shouldn’t lose any time, and if you can reach anybody, send them on after us.” Rachel started to speak, but Geneva broke in. “I’m going, Rachel,” she said through tight lips. But when she saw the worry in her sister’s eyes, she softened. “And don’t worry, I’ll be careful,” she added. “I know how to ride in the snow.”
Rachel narrowed her eyes. “There’s ice underneath the snow,” she began, but Wayne broke in.
“It would be helpful if she came along. If we take off right now, it might make a critical difference. The others can catch up, if they can even travel in this storm.” He looked apologetic. “If it doesn’t let up, the chopper won’t fly, and I don’t even know when or if James can come, and the others may not be able to get out, either. And if the storm doesn’t let up, we may not be able to get him out. I’m going to need help if he’s as bad as Sally Beth thinks. I’d feel better if she comes.” He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Will you go help Sally Beth with the horses?”
Rachel glared at him, then at her sister. “You both had better be careful!” was all she said before she turned on her heel, and brushing roughly past Wayne, followed Sally Beth to the barn.
Not long afterward, Rachel and Sally Beth led the horses back to the house, where Wayne and Geneva were prepared to ride. Wayne hurriedly added supplies to his medical kit. “I got hold of James,” he said. “It isn’t snowing at Harrisonburg. He said he will come, but he can’t fly here until there is a break in the storm, and I don’t know how long that will be. We need to get there as soon as we can. Holy Miracle might not make it without some intervention. Rachel, keep trying. Get anybody you can to meet us up there in case we have trouble. We’ll see you there, Sally Beth.”
Rachel nodded and turned slowly back to the door. Suddenly, she spun back and hugged Wayne tightly, and then Geneva. “You be careful!” Geneva could see the sudden redness bloom around Rachel’s eyes and felt a tug of tender remorse for her sister. She was glad she was going, and not having to sit at home, impotently waiting for others to rescue Holy Miracle.
“God bless you! And hurry!” said Sally Beth. She wrung her hands and added, “Please don’t let him die!” as Wayne boosted Geneva into the saddle, then sprang onto Redneck’s back. The two were off into the face of the angry snow, disappearing into the white violence within seconds.
The going was rough. Wayne rode ahead at first, but after a few minutes, he fell back and offered to let Geneva go ahead. “I can’t really see much in this. You know the way better than I do. Do you think you can find it okay?”
“Yeah,” replied Geneva grimly and moved in the lead position, carefully picking her way through the snow-crusted grass. They had not begun moving uphill yet, and it was harder to know the right direction with such poor visibility as they moved across the pasture. It could be difficult to find the trailhead leading up to Jacob’s Mountain. After a few minutes, Geneva was relieved to see a line of trees. Now it was just a matter of picking her way along the edge of the forest until the trail presented itself.
“It will be along here somewhere,” she called back to Wayne. “Keep a lookout for that big willow oak, and watch out for the creek. If we get to it, we’ve come too far and we will have to backtrack a little ways.” The wind was howling by this time, and Wayne rode closer.
“I couldn’t hear you. Do you know where you are?”
“Wait! There’s the oak. The trail should start just up here.” She nudged Fairhope forward, and Wayne followed closely.
The trail opened to them with a tenuous hope. Now it was just a matter of staying on it, up past the laurel field, beside the ravine, and then over the top of the bald. Geneva said a little prayer, and confidence filled her. Yes, God would help them, she thought, settling back and letting Fairhope have his head, for she knew that the horse could keep to the trail better than she could.
It was bitterly cold. Geneva pulled her scarf up around her mouth and her hat down low on her head. Her hands were cold inside the leather gloves, but her seat was warm from Fairhope’s steaming back. A rush of love for the steady horse came over her, and she uttered a hymn of thanksgiving for his sure-footedness. Then she offered another prayer for Wayne who was riding the much more spirited Redneck.
It occurred to her that Redneck did not like not being behind, and he was likely to nudge and nip Fairhope if they were not moving fast enough to suit him. That would be a danger when they came to the path along the ravine. She shuddered, remembering another narrow path perched above an abyss on that awful day three months ago, and the sight of Jimmy Lee disappearing silently into the mist after she had bumped into him.
She began to wish she had been the one to take the fall, but soon realized that she might have missed the solid ground and fallen to her death, and that would have meant the death of this baby. Why had it happened the way it did? Had God had a hand in that? Maybe at the very moment when Jimmy Lee fell, a tiny cluster of cells was attaching themselves to the wall of Geneva’s womb. Maybe that baby was the reason she had lived through the ordeal of the moment, of the ordeal of the boar. She smiled, imagining a guardian angel standing sentry over that little speck of life. Surely God had plans for this little one. He or she—certainly a she—females outnumbered males in the family by about twenty to one. Yes, she had started life against terrifying odds, and still hung on. Already, she felt a swell of pride for this tenacious little being. A tough little survivor! Maybe she would name her Boudicca, after the warrior queen who wouldn’t give up, even in the teeth of the Roman army.
Pulling aside, she called back to Wayne. “You’d better go ahead for awhile. The ravine is just up ahead, and Redneck might get pushy. Unless you want to switch horses.”
“No, I’m good. The snow seems to be slacking off a little, and I can see better. It occurred to me back there that I should just give him his head anyway. He’s smarter than I am.”
Geneva laughed, “I came to the same conclusion. Made it a lot easier, didn’t it?”
Wayne did not need to nudge Redneck. As soon as the gelding saw an opening ahead, he lunged for it, brushing Geneva as he trotted by. It would not be long now. The worst of the trail lay just ahead. Again she prayed for their safety, for the safety of the baby, for Holy Miracle who lay shivering behind a black fold in the granite above them.
Redneck paused as he considered his first steps onto the slender collar along the neck of the ravine. Geneva held her breath as his front hoof slid slightly on the ice beneath the snow, but then he steadied and began picking his way carefully upward. This ledge was much wider than the one that had failed Jimmy Lee, but still, one slippery patch could mean a serious tumble down the mountain. She waited for a moment before following, not sure that Fairhope would be a gentleman, docilely following Redneck’s rear as the wind howled and the snow stung the eyes. She felt her own eyes filling with tears, and she squeezed her lids against the brutal, icy flakes.
She looked down the side of the mountain. Here was the place Rachel had slipped and fallen those many years ago and broken her arm. She wondered if Holy Miracle and his father had seen her lose her footing and slide, or if they had happened upon her after Geneva had gone for help. If they had witnessed her fall, why had they waited for Geneva to leave before they rescued Rachel? She shook her head. All this time she had assumed they shunned all outsiders, but Holy Miracle had let Sally Beth know where he lived, had let he
r into the confines of his personal life. Her own brief moments with him when he had given her his cryptic insights had seemed like precious treasures to her. How much more had he given to Sally Beth? What was it about that girl that made her special to him?
The path curved upward into the last patch of pines just below Jacob’s Bald. They made their way through the restless trees, then picked a careful path through the heath, and then they found themselves exposed on the empty, high meadow. Here was the spot where Holy Miracle had blessed her and the Holy Spirit had descended upon Geneva that bright October day. She had been back twice since then, and each time, she had felt the Presence hovering nearby, filling her with peace. Even today, with the snow coming down into the devouring cold, the place felt serene. The wind sang hymns to her in deep harmony with the earth and sky. She pulled up alongside Wayne.
“Do you feel that?” she asked him. “Does it feel like God lives here to you?”
“Oh, yes,” replied Wayne. “There is no question this is holy ground.”
“As am I,” smiled Geneva.
“What?”
In October, when I came here and Holy Miracle blessed me, he asked God to make me ‘holy ground.’”
“We all should be so blessed.”
They turned west, toward the cliffs that towered beyond Jacob’s Bald. The storm picked up, howling through the empty space around them, and the horses put their heads down and pushed against the wind. Yet, despite the storm and the snow, Geneva felt at peace, guided and protected. They rode within the silent, white shell of their own thoughts.
At length, Wayne said, “Come on. I see the cliffs up ahead,” as he gave Redneck a slap. They broke into a fast trot across the snow blanketing the sleeping meadow. Riding fast to the edge of the field and over a rise, they came upon a tumble of boulders as high as a man, piled thickly at the base of a sheer cliff.
“She said there was a path off to the left here,” Wayne said, pausing to pull out two flashlights. He handed one to Geneva, who switched hers on, but it did nothing to help with visibility. The beam bounced helplessly off the veil of snow streaming from the sky. Geneva took the lead, knowing that Wayne would have difficulty seeing with his less-than-perfect eyesight. Carefully, they scanned the ground as they wound their way around the base of the cliff, but all they could see were the impossible obstacles. They continued alongside the boulders, searching for a break.
The Women of Jacob’s Mountain Boxed Set Page 38
