"
How bad is it?" She stumbled as she hit the first step, her
legs shaky, her muscles feeling soft as putty.
He shined his light on
her. "You okay?" he asked, extending his hand.
"
I'm fine," she said, rubbing her knee, gaining control of
her legs and stepping past him into the summer night. Stars
twinkled down at her from the night sky and a light wind brushed
through her hair. "I can't believe it," she whispered. "It's so
calm and peaceful."
"
Amazing, isn't it?"
She nodded, her eyes following
the glow of the flashlight as she panned the grounds. Debris
littered the yard and one of the large cottonwoods had been
uprooted and smashed into the front porch. Miraculously, that was
the only damage left in the storm's wake.
"
We gotta find Daddy," Belle said, running for her
truck.
Burke reached for her.
"You can't drive your truck."
She followed the beam from
his light. A few yards away, her classic '57 Chevy lay on its side,
wheels spinning, going nowhere. "We can turn it over," she blurted
out.
"
That truck weighs a ton."
She faced him, shining her
light in his face. "He's out there and I'm going to find
him."
"
Hold up, Belle. Take a minute to think. Where are you going
to look? You don't know where he is. He could be in town, at a
neighbors, or friends."
"
Think? There's no time to think, Burke. Jake said he rode
off on Pepper. My guess is that he's--"
Headlights flashed from the
driveway, and a sheriff's truck pulled alongside them.
"
Paul," Belle said, desperation in her voice as she peered
in the driver's window. Gates' husband was a welcome sight.
"Daddy's out there somewhere."
"
Where?" Paul asked, the squawk of his radio detailing the
disaster of the tornadoes.
Burke stepped up to the
window. "We don't know."
"
I think he's in the south pasture," she replied.
Paul tipped his head
toward the doors. "Get in."
He took the four-wheel drive
truck overland, his angular face stern, and his thick hands
gripping the wheel. Desperate weather reports confirmed Belle's
worst fears. An F3 tornado touched down north of the county and
ripped its way south. The grazing land they'd planned to fence in
lay right in its path. If Duke left the ranch after dinner to
survey the fence line, he rode right into the storm's path.
She fretted as images of life
without her loving, stable, wise father haunted her. If anything
happened to him, how could she live with herself?
The truck tore over wet prairie
grass, bouncing and crashing over knolls. The radio broadcasted one
emergency call after another and declared that a third twister had
ripped through the eastern part of the county. In the midst of all
the radio noise, Burke's cell phone rang. Belle glanced at him,
annoyed.
"
The tornado missed the Circle B. The horses are over
there," he explained briefly.
A moment of relief hit her, but
it didn't last.
In the next few anxious moments,
the truck's headlights caught the black coat of Duke's mare racing
wildly across their path.
"
Paul, there's Pepper."
"
Careful," Burke warned with a low tone. "Don't spook the
old girl. She's had a rough night."
Belle nudged Paul, telling
him to cut the wheel hard left. "I know where she's
going."
"
The corral?" Burke asked.
"
Yep."
Duke lay face down in a swirl of
mud and water. Belle stumbled from the truck and knelt next to him,
panicked.
Paul and Burke hustled to her
side. Burke rolled Duke over and rested his head on his legs.
Belle watched,
unbelieving. "Oh Lord," she prayed with a sob, the reality of
Duke's fate taking hold of her.
Burke performed CPR while Paul
tried to radio for help. But the storm had rescue crews scattered
all over the county, and it became apparent that Duke would have to
be transported in Paul's vehicle.
Calmly, Burke commanded
Belle. "Go to the truck, get my phone and call Dean. His house is
not far from here, and he's an EMT."
"
Good plan," Paul said.
She stumbled to the truck
and dialed the number. "Dean," she said, tears in her words. "It's
me, Belle. Paul Fuller, Burke, and I are in the south range by the
big corral. It's Daddy, Dean." Weeping overcame her.
"
I'm on my way, Belle. I'm on my way."
***
In the bathroom outside the
hospital emergency room, Belle clung to the low, cool sink, trying
to control her tears. Her stomach and sides ached from crying, and
her throat burned with bile. She caught a glimpse of herself in the
sink mirror. Mud smudged her face and stained her tee shirt. Her
matted, wet hair clung to her head and her tired eyes were swollen
and red.
A soft touch on her
shoulder made her turn around. "Here's a cold towel." Elaine
Benning's tender voice floated to her ears.
"
Thank you," Belle said as reached for the cloth and buried
her face in it.
Elaine smoothed Belle's
hair with her hand. "The doctor said Duke's going to be fine. He's
got a nasty knot on his head and a severely broken leg, but he's
fine. He's fine."
"
Thank you, Jesus," Belle prayed, sinking down to the hard
tile floor, propping her back against the wall and succumbing to
soft tears.
Elaine crouched next to
her and drew her into her arms. "He's sleeping peacefully now. The
doc says Burke saved his life, you know, by administering
CPR."
Belle stiffened and her
temper flared. "Saved him? Burke is the one who refused to let me
go after him." She hopped to her feet. "I told him he was in the
southern range. I told him to let me go after him."
Elaine stood and looked
her in the eye. "Oh, now, you couldn't have gone after your dad in
that storm."
"
You didn't see him, Elaine, lying face down in the mud,
alone and dying. My daddy…" The words faded into
sobbing.
Elaine tried to reason with her,
explaining that Burke possibly saved her life by forcing her into
the cellar. Who would have saved Duke if she had gotten hurt in the
storm?
But Mrs. Benning's wisdom made
no impact on Belle. Her exposed, raw emotions were in control.
When a heavy silence fell
between them, Elaine started to leave. As she reached for the door,
Gates and Meg pushed it open and scrambled to embrace Belle.
***
"
She what?" Burke nearly shouted, towering over his mother
in the ER waiting room.
"
She blames you," Elaine repeated, sympathy clouding her
eyes.
He paced around his family, his
lips pursed with anger. When he started to say something, Reese
slapped a firm hand on his shoulder.
"
Let's hear this out," he said. "Tell us what she said
Elaine." Reese shot a warning glance toward his son. "No comments
from you until she's done."
"
Well, I gave her the doctor's report and - Oh, boys, you
should have seen her." Her voice quivered and broke. "I tried to
comfort her by telling her Duke was fine and sleeping peacefully.
Then I said Burke probably saved his life by performing
CPR."
"
Then what happened?" Burke demanded.
"
Steady son, she's on your side."
"
Dad, why are there sides at all?"
"
Go on, Elaine."
"
She snapped her head up like she'd been gored by a bull.
She said if it hadn't been for Burke, she could have rescued Duke.
She told you she could find him, I guess."
"
But she didn't know for sure. The storm was right over us.
Funnel clouds were touching down and speeding toward the Bar J."
Burke's tone grew forceful and loud.
"
Burke, keep your voice down," Reese warned.
"
She'd doing this out of spite, I tell you."
Dean spoke for the first
time. "She's tired, emotional, scared. You know how she feels about
Duke. Give her time, Burke."
"
This is ridiculous. I don't care how tired, scared, or
emotional she is, how can she blame me? It's crazy."
"
She's not thinking straight, Burke, can't you see?" Gates
joined the small Benning circle.
Burke sank into one of the
waiting room chairs. "We talked today for the first time about our
wedding day," he began softly, detailing their chapel meeting and
the events following just before the storm. "I thought we were
getting somewhere," he concluded.
Gates sat next to him and
placed a comforting hand on his humped shoulders. "You are, Burke,
believe me. It's a miracle that you talked today, something to be
thankful for. But right now, all she can think about is how she
could've saved her father. Blaming you for not letting her go after
him is the handiest thing she has at the moment for dealing with
her own guilt."
Meg stepped up. "I agree.
Belle takes her love and care for Duke very serious. Not to
mention, he's the only family she has left."
"
It makes no sense," Burke countered, standing to face the
group. "Why should she feel guilty? She didn't cause this to
happen." Sarcasm threaded his words.
"
Settle down, Burke," Elaine said, tipping her head back to
look her son in the eye. She may have been almost a foot shorter
than her tall, athletic son, but her authority towered over
him.
"
Instead of getting angry at her, why don't you offer her
some compassion and care? She needs some about now," Reese
suggested.
"
She's coming," Dean warned.
Everyone turned to greet Belle,
consoling her with words of hope, volunteering help.
Belle's face remained drawn and
her eyes puffy from crying. Softly she announced she would spend
the night in the room with her father.
"
That's a good idea," Elaine encouraged, stroking her still
matted hair.
Just then, Spencer barreled
through the ER doors, demanding to know what happened. He
possessively reached for Belle and cradled her in his arms.
Jealousy smacked Burke's heart.
Tired of the whole ordeal, he slipped undetected out of the ER. His
sleek sports car sped over the county's back roads as he drove
home, his hands gripping the wheel until his fingers tingled. He
cried out to the Lord, frustrated, purporting to reason with Him
over Belle's unjust accusation.
But the still, small, voice he
longed to hear remained silent.
Once he arrived home, Burke
retreated to his grandfather's prayer chair and settled his anxious
spirit by turning his heart toward the Prince of Peace. Then, and
only then, did his answer come.
Greater love has no one than
this that one lay down his life for his friends.
For a long time, Burke meditated
on what God spoke, trying to understand, working to make it a
reality in his heart. Gradually, a plan began to unfold.
An hour later he picked up the
phone and dialed his agent.
"
John, it's Burke." A gregarious voice greeted him on the
other end of the line.
"
I'm fine, thanks. Listen, I'm not going to be able to get
out to the coast this weekend." He leaned forward in the chair and
rubbed his forehead as he listened to John complain and whine.
"Reschedule, then, but this Friday is out."
He detailed the day's tragedy. A
friend was in trouble and he needed to stay and help.
"
No, no one else can do it. I'm positive. I'll call you in a
few weeks. Yes, reschedule. Thanks, man."
***
Belle slipped into her father's
cool, quiet room and pulled a chair beside the bed. She slipped her
hand into his and tearfully watched him sleep.
"
Daddy," she said, lightly touching his leg cast, her
shoulders sagging. "I'm sorry I didn't come after you. I'm so
sorry."
With her face buried in his
hospital blankets, she prayed, surrendering her fears to her
heavenly Father, trusting Him with the life of her earthly
father.
Spencer popped his head in
the door. In a whisper, he asked, "Are you sure you want to stay
here tonight? You should go home and get cleaned up, sleep in your
own bed."
She looked at him, shaking
her head, tears wetting her cheeks. She motioned toward the two
reclining chairs positioned at the foot of the hospital bed. "I'm
staying here tonight. The nurses will let me take a shower in their
locker room. They lent me a pair of scrubs, a blanket and a
pillow."
He slipped into the room
and urged her again to go home. "Those chairs aren't
comfortable."
"
I'm not leaving Daddy." Her tone indicated no
compromise.