Over the Misty Mountains (45 page)

Rhoda had understood from the beginning that death waited for all of them if Cartier got his hand on one of those muskets. As soon as he bent over, she threw herself at him with all of her strength. Her fingernails sank into his face, and the huge man flinched in pain. With a roar he knocked her backward with his powerful arm, but it had put him off balance. He quickly grabbed the musket, but he had no time to level it and fire. Hawk was on him like a cat.

It would not be a matter of muskets now, but a fight of brute strength. He did have time to swing the butt, which caught Hawk high on the head, and for a moment Hawk could see nothing but flashing blinding lights.

As Hawk fell to the ground, Sequatchie threw himself forward. Sequatchie landed several blows on the large man, but Cartier stopped him in his tracks with one blow of his powerful fist. Rhoda screamed as Cartier saw his chance, picked up the musket, and leveled it at Hawk, an evil light in his eyes.

“Now, this will be the last time I will have you to think about!”

In that brief moment, it was as if time froze. Hawk knew he was a dead man, and great regret washed over him as he thought of his life. A wave of remorse suddenly overwhelmed him. It was not fear, but a deep sadness that he had wasted his life so foolishly. The night Faith had died, and how he had run away, abandoning his son, suddenly flashed before him.

At the same time, as memories filled his heart and mind, his hand went to his belt. In one smooth lightning motion, Hawk pulled the knife and threw it. He had only a split second, for Cartier had aimed the gun at his heart.

The blade sailed through the air and bit into Cartier’s heart. At the same instant his finger tightened, and the musket exploded.
At least
, he thought as he fell backward dying,
I’ve killed him
.

But the bullet passed over Hawk’s head, and Hawk slowly rose to his feet.

Rhoda ran to him at once. They looked at the Frenchman, whose eyes were glazed with death. “It’s all over, Rhoda. You’re all right.”

Sequatchie came and looked down at the man who had been responsible for so much pain. “He was an evil man. I wish he had known Jesus.”

Hawk shot his friend a glance. He remembered now, more clearly than ever, the remorse that had come when he was staring death in the face—and it was still there. He knew now that those feelings of regret would
never
go away.

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 hurts 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.”