Belonging (22 page)

Morning sunlight played across the surface of the water and gilded her pole, almost blinding her with its brightness. Birds called from treetops as the world of nature awakened around her, and Felicia’s heart and thoughts responded to its beauty, words of praise springing into her head.

One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to enquire in his temple.

Oh, that she would daily remember what was most important in life: to know God and to do His will. That she would seek to behold His beauty and remember that, no matter the trials encountered, earth was her temporary home.

A memory came to her, of her mother sitting in a rocking chair in their small tenement flat in Chicago, the Bible open on her lap. Elethea Brennan had been a woman of unwavering faith who had attempted, in the short time allowed her, to pass along the same to her three children.

“Hold fast to God, Felicia, and you be remembering that He’s holdin’ on to you too.”

“I remember, Mum,” she whispered, the words whisked away by the sounds of the rushing river.

The expected freight arrived shortly after eight o’clock that morning, a good hour earlier than usual. Colin and Jimmy set straight to work, emptying boxes and barrels, filling shelves in the mercantile with merchandise, putting the excess into the stockroom at the back.

When they were done, Colin checked his pocket watch. If the fishing was any good, Charity and Felicia might still be at it. If he hurried—

“Jimmy, I’m going to be out for a few hours. Mind the store.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Murphy. Anything special you need done while you’re gone?”

“Nope. Just take care of the customers.”

The fishing tackle was organized and his horse saddled and bridled in short order. Then he was on his way. He watched the trail before him, hoping he wouldn’t see Felicia and his daughter returning from the river before he could get there himself.

“Miss K!”

Felicia looked downriver and saw Charity’s pole bending in a big arch.

“My line’s snagged on something. I can’t get it free.”

“I’ll be right there.” Felicia reeled in her line, then collected the basket—with three trout inside it—and the coat she’d removed a short while before. “I think it’s time we start back anyway.”

“So soon?”

“It’s not all that soon.” She made her way back to Charity. “Look how far up the sun is.”

“But I’ve only caught two fish. That’s not enough for Papa.”

Felicia chuckled. “I’ll give you one of mine.” She set down her things. “Looks like you’ve caught a log at the bottom of the river this time.”

“I know.” Charity gave her pole a tug. “It won’t come loose.”

“Let me have a look.” She stepped closer to the riverbank, reached up, and took hold of the pole, giving the line another hard yank. “I’m afraid we’ll have to cut it.”

“Are you sure?” The girl stepped to Felicia’s side.

“Get back, Charity. You know your father doesn’t allow you to get this close to the river’s edge.”

“Ah, Miss K. I’m okay here beside you.”

“Listen to me. I can swim. You’re still learning.” Felicia looked down. “If you don’t mind the rules, you might not be allowed to come with me next time.”

Charity rolled her eyes before giving her pole a vicious yank. The line must have broken, for the rod whipped up, smacking Felicia across the side of her face. She cried out in pain, her eyes watering. She lifted her hand to her cheek.

“Miss K, I didn’t—”

Blinded by her tears, Felicia started to turn. But instead of solid ground, her foot landed on a slippery rock and she was thrown off balance. Her arms flailed about, trying to find something—anything!—to grab hold of, but all her hands found was air. The next thing she knew, she hit the water.

Merciful heavens, it was cold!

As she bobbed to the surface, she heard Charity yelling her name. She wanted to answer her, to call back that she was fine. But before she could, the water pulled her down again, her sodden woolen skirt wrapping around her legs. The weight of it threatened
to pull her to the river bottom and keep her there while the swift current swept her downriver. She smacked into a large rock and bounced to the surface as pain exploded in her hip. She sucked in air and opened her eyes, hoping to find something to grab on to. She moved her arms, trying to swim toward shore, but her clothes had become her enemy.

God, help me!

She went under again, smashing into more rocks and forest debris that had washed down from the mountains. She felt her body weakening. Was this how she would die?

She renewed her struggle against the current, fighting her way back to the surface. This time she saw a large tree limb, half submerged, stretched over the river a short distance ahead of her. She was going to hit it. There was no avoiding that. But if she could grasp it, if she could hold on to it, perhaps she could pull herself to shore.

Colin heard his daughter’s screams while he was still in the narrow canyon. Heart pounding, he kicked Drifter hard in the ribs. The gelding shot forward, galloping headlong down the trail. Colin leaned forward over the saddle horn. Whatever was wrong, his daughter was in great distress. He had to find her. He had to help her. He had to save her.

His horse shot into the opening. “Charity!”

She continued to scream, probably too loudly to hear his call. And then he understood what she was saying. “Miss K! Miss K!”

He caught sight of his daughter a few heartbeats later. She was pushing her way through the underbrush along the riverbank, still screaming her teacher’s name.

“Charity!”

She heard him this time. “Papa!”

He reined in, and Drifter slid to a stop. Colin’s feet hit the ground at a run.

“Papa, hurry! It’s Miss K. She fell in the river.”

Oh, God! Don’t let her drown. Don’t let that happen.

He grabbed hold of his daughter and pulled her against him—
Thank God it wasn’t you; thank God it wasn’t you
—even as his gaze searched the river for some sign of Felicia.

Charity pulled away. “She’s over here, Papa. Hurry!”

He saw her then, arms wrapped around a tree limb, her face barely above the water, looking half drowned already.

Felicia couldn’t hold on much longer. She
was
going to die in the river. Perhaps she was already dead. She couldn’t hear Charity screaming her name any longer. Poor Charity. She shouldn’t have seen this. She might never enjoy coming to the river to fish again.

Water splashed into Felicia’s mouth, and she coughed and choked as she fought for a breath of air. So she wasn’t dead after all. There would be no coughing or choking in heaven. Nor would her limbs be numb from the cold.

If she just let go …

Strong arms went around her waist. “Miss Kristoffersen.”

Felicia opened her eyes and looked up. Colin was beside her. Water dripped from his dark hair and off the tip of his nose and chin.

“Can you let go of the branch and hold on to me?”

She nodded, but she couldn’t seem to make her arms obey.

Gently, he pried her grip free from the tree limb, and after he did, the last of her strength seemed to be swept away in the current.
In the next instant, she was cradled in his arms as he carried her to shore. Against her ear, she heard the rapid beat of his heart, above the sounds of the river.

“Charity,” he called to his daughter, “leave everything. I’ll come for it later. We need to get Felicia home and into some warm clothes.”

She realized then that she was shivering. Shivering so hard her teeth rattled. “I’m … all … r-right,” she managed to say. “You … can … p-put me … down.”

If he heard her, he pretended he didn’t. Instead, he carried her away from the river. Shade and sunlight alternately fell on her face. The rapid flashes of dark and light made her dizzy, and she closed her eyes.

The next thing she knew, they were on horseback, Colin astride the saddle, Felicia still held against his chest. With his free arm, he grabbed hold of Charity and pulled her up behind him.

“Hold tight, pumpkin.”

“I will, Papa.”

“Let’s go, Drifter.”

The horse moved forward at a fast walk, following the trail, climbing out of the river canyon toward the bluff. Felicia tried once to open her eyes to see where they were, but the dizziness overcame her a second time. She kept her eyes closed for the rest of the way.

The horse stopped at last, and Felicia felt Colin swing his daughter to the ground. “Go get Dr. Young, Charity. Fast as you can. Run!”

“I’m … all right,” Felicia protested weakly.

He stepped down from the saddle. “You almost drowned.” He carried her inside the cottage and into her bedroom, where he sat her on the straight-backed chair next to the bed. With Colin in the room, it felt half the size it had that morning. Small and airless.

He knelt, took her right foot in his hand, and began unlacing her boot.

“I can do that,” she said.

“No, you can’t.”

She wanted to argue with him, wanted to tell him she was capable of taking care of herself. But that was a bald-faced lie. She could hardly manage to stay upright in the chair, let alone bend forward at the waist to remove her boots.

When his calloused fingers touched the skin of her foot, she jerked in surprise. No man had ever touched her bare feet. It seemed … it seemed strangely intimate.

“Miss Kristoffersen?”

I like it better when he calls me Felicia.

“What’s wrong?”

She inhaled through her nose. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“The doctor’ll be here soon, and we’ll get you into bed.”

We?
The room began to sway.

“Miss Kristoffersen?” His voice came from a distance, beyond a roaring much like the sound of the river. “Felicia?”

The light in the room grew dim, and then everything went black.