Authors: Sandra Dengler
Quite possibly Colin would not survive this. He felt so very, very drained. Weak.
When I am weak, I am strong
. Hannah was only partly right. Her biggest enemy was the land, but Colin’s was God. The land was Colin’s antagonist by necessity; he was making God his antagonist by choice. They were total opposites, the mindless land and the all-knowing God. Colin must keep fighting the land. But now was the time to put the battle with God to rest. He was so very tired. It was not hard to pray now.
Lord, I admit my sins—particularly my stubbornness. Thank youfor Hannah. Dear Hannah. Forgive me for being so crook when she first showed up in my life in the outback. I’d not have made it without her. You sent her. I see that now. From here on, I’m yours, God. Whether I see home again or not, I’m yours. In Jesus, I’m yours—because of Jesus, because of what He did, dying to pay for my sins. God, uh . . . I don’t know how to pray. I don’t know how to believe in You. Help me believe
.
The pleasant vale had been blasted asunder. Smoke still curled from hot spots around him. Acrid heat radiated from all directions. A pitiless sun blazed. The comfortable and the familiar had vanished. And yet, Colin felt at ease now—a most amazing thing! Peace. He belonged to God now, bought and paid for. Whatever happened to him in this ravaged world, he was safe. He was home at last.
Reality forced its way back into his life. He struggled to a sitting position. He should not have allowed Hannah to go wandering. But then, when did she ever listen to him?
Ah! There she came down the hill, her tattered shoes kicking up ash and dust. She splashed clumsily across the creek and slogged up the bank to Colin.
All the grief in the world seemed to twist her fragile face. “Oh, Colin!” She stumbled down beside him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He enclosed her to his side and pressed her head against his shoulder. She sobbed uncontrollably and Colin resumed his violent cough. What a pair they were.
Finally he managed, “You found the mare?”
Her head nodded in little jerks.
“It was awful! There were balls of ugly froth around her mouth and nostrils. And her eyes—”
“I know. I’ve seen horses trapped in a barn fire at the racecourse. It took me years to get over the nightmares.”
She wiped her streaked face with a soot-blackened hand. “It’s so strange up there, Colin. There are patches burned to a crisp and others the fire never touched. Strange how it skipped places and burned others. And there are lots of dead animals about. Possums and wallabies and smaller animals.”
“Sorry you went?”
“No. I had to see for myself if Max’s Lady was still charmed.”
“Well, she sure was. In her last hours she saved our lives.”
She nodded and sniffled, wiping her face with her skirt. “You coming?”
“Not yet. Sitting up is as energetic as I can get. Give me a while longer.”
She lurched to her feet. “I’m going to go up the hill here and see what’s ahead.” She scrambled off, an endless fount of energy.
Colin flopped back down on his back. Big mistake. It sent him into paroxysms of coughing. He rolled to his side.
“Colin!” Her voice called in the distance, alive with excitement. “Colin, come quick!”
Now what?
He forced himself to standing. He forced his legs into motion. Climbing even this gentle hill caused excruciating bouts of coughing. With two brief rests, he finally topped out on the brow. Eagerly, triumphantly, Hannah was pointing to the east.
Colin stared. “The knob! It can’t be!”
“Colin, we’ve gone camping there before around Christmas time. What if they’re there now? They could be there—maybe. The fire completely missed them. You can see how it traced the valley. The smoke still hangs in the air.”
Colin nodded. Natural dirtslides and near-vertical bare crags had saved the knob as well as the mountain closest them—had turned the fire aside to the north.
“Across two chasms and a mountain before we even get to the knob, Hannah. I don’t think I can get that far.”
She pointed in the distance. “We could go down that way and around.” She swung her arm in an arc. “It’s a bit farther, but there’d be less climbing. You can go as far as you can. I’ve got to go, Colin. I have to reach the campsite.”
“What if they’re not camping? Chances are, they aren’t there at all.”
“They are. I just know it. And I’ve been praying about it. Come on, please?”
And away she went.
C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
M
Y
F
ATHER’S
H
OUSE
Sloan finished the last of a sweet, juicy pear and tossed the core into the bush. Sam, beside him at the picnic table, methodically cut her apple into wedges, her preferred method of eating fruit. Mary Aileen sat in the grass nearby, quietly watching the kittens romp across her legs. She had hardly eaten anything. Edan, who usually put away food quite easily outdoors, wasn’t eating much either. What, if anything, should Sloan do about this? He wished Edan had not seen the fire. Mary Aileen, with her vivid imagination, had not even seen it and was morose. But wishing doesn’t change things.
Sam glanced at him. “You’re as morbid as the children.”
“I was thinking there’s not going to be much of a Christmas this year.”
“That’s true.” She gazed at him, and tried not to think about what Christmas would be like without Colin and Hannah.
“Mary Aileen, Edan. Time to go.” Sloan hauled to his feet and packed up the lunch box. He always enjoyed this picnic area by the main road. He liked to linger in more pleasant times. Today he had other things to do. He had the motor running by the time the children were in the back seat. They rolled out easily onto the main highway.
Edan sat up straighten “Where are we going, Papa? Is this the way home?”
Mary Aileen looked around. “You aren’t going to get us lost trying the back way again?”
“I’ll try not to.” An isolated incident five years ago, and the children still played it up. Yet give an instruction to clean up their rooms, and they’d forget it by the time they reached the top of the stairs.
Sam looked at Cole curiously. “We’ve never been this way, have we dear?”
“No. I may be doing some good, or I may be making a disastrous mistake. We’ll see.”
______
Hannah sat on the hot sun-washed hillside and stared at the knob. So near, and so far. If only she could fly. This hillside, the deep vale, and that whole mountain slope separated her from the path that could lead her to the family’s camping ground. Colin was right; Mum and Papa almost surely were not there, fervent prayer notwithstanding. And if they weren’t, Hannah and Colin were still essentially nowhere, still miles and miles from any good track or habitation.
She should not have gone back to find the dead mare. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to make sure, or didn’t want to say a last goodbye to the dear old animal. But it had worn her out far more than she realized. Her strength was beginning to flag.
She turned and shielded her eyes to look upslope. Where was Colin? She didn’t want to get too far ahead of him. And yet, she must not keep returning to him, putting still more miles on her legs.
Stubborn, stubborn Colin. What could she do to bring him to Jesus?
In my father’s house are many mansions
. She’d read that somewhere. She would be home safe one day. Poor Colin was bushed in the worst possible sense, spiritually bushed. And she didn’t know how to lead him to safety. The fire and its horror, the loss of the mare, Colin’s illness and awful weakness all weighed heavily upon her spirit. She knew it was useless, but she began to weep.
______
The ragged little bush track they found themselves on did indeed lead where Sloan thought it would. He stopped the car. Just ahead, the track angled away to the north and down through the trees, following the valley beside them. It would end up somewhere around Bathhurst, most likely. Or maybe Katoomba. Its destination was not really important. This particular area was. They were now as deep into the mountains as this track would take them.
As they left the track, the touring car waddled drunkenly up through the trees and out onto a broad downslope.
He stopped again and jumped out, waving for the children to follow.
He walked out the slope farther than the car could have taken them. If his plan worked, it would be well worth it. There in the distance hung the curtain of smoke from the fire. Sloan had taken a fifty-fifty chance and won. The veil could quite as easily have grown, but it had shrunk.
Edan stood beside him.
“Where’s your sister?”
“Tying her cat to a shrub. She says the track was too rough for the kittens and she’s worried about them. She’ll be coming.”
“Charming creatures, those kittens. But a royal pain.”
To Sloan’s delighted surprise, Edan cackled gleefully. “I always thought so, but you daren’t tell her that.”
“No, we won’t tell her that.” Cole hugged his son. “Do you see the veil of smoke now?” He pointed out across the valley.
Edan’s demeanor chilled. “Yes. It’s way out there.”
“Is it bigger or smaller than it was?”
“It’s smaller. Not so thick, and yellow. Not so scary.”
“That’s right. The fire is just about out now. I wanted you to see that there comes an end to destruction and bad things. If a fire is not put out by man, it eventually hits open country or treeless slopes and burns itself out. It doesn’t just keep on destroying.
Edan left Cole’s side to stroll farther out on the slope.
Mary Aileen caught up to them and stood beside her father. “Where are we?”
“That knob beyond camp is to our left and probably a little behind us. We can’t see it for the trees.”
“Then the fire went beyond that hill.” Mary Aileen pointed.
“That’s right. I’ll inquire around when we get back and find out what I can. The
Bulletin
will probably have some information on it. After the next rain we’ll explore out there and see what new greenery is sprouting.”
Edan joined them with a question, “You’re sure, Papa, that there will be new things growing?”
“Yes, I’m certain of it, son.”
“Are there any people out there?”
“No. There aren’t any people out there.”
They remained awhile longer. Sam had joined them now, and Cole was pleased to see the children pointing out the distant smoke for her, telling about the dwindled fire and the new growth to come.
Thank you, Lord, Cole prayed. I don’t like taking chances like this. Thank you for being with me and making it work
.
“Time to go home.” Sloan wrapped an arm around Sam and led the way back to the car. Mary Aileen scooped up her kitten box and released Smoke from her tether, telling them they would soon be safe at home. Edan bounded into the back seat with a good deal more enthusiasm than before.
Sam smiled at her husband, glowing. “Brilliant idea, my dear.”
“Praise the Lord!”
“Indeed.”
They lumbered down to the rutted track and headed home.
______
“Colin, you can’t quit now.”
He looked terrible. His skin was ghastly white, the contrast made greater by the soot smudges, dust and dirt. He lay with his knees to his chest under the shade of a gum tree. “You have to stop coming back to me, girl. You can’t help me by sitting here. Get yourself out. Go.”
“I can’t go without you, Colin. Don’t say that to me.”
“You have to. Please, Hannah. I’ll come along as I’m able. I won’t quit.”
He was right. She knew he was right. His only chance was her finding the way out, and a puny chance it was. Why was she so reluctant to leave him? “I’ll bring help.”
He nodded amid more coughing. She hugged him as best she could and started walking again.
The sun would abandon her in a couple hours. Then what? She dared not continue in the darkness. The knob up there, her landmark and beacon, did not glow in the dark. She would drop down into this valley because it was the easiest way to go, and worry about climbing to the ridgetop later. Right now she barely mustered the strength to go downhill.
She looked back frequently, but she couldn’t see Colin anymore. And even now the place where she knew he lay looked just like every other place. She’d never find him again. The enormity of their peril brought another flood of tears.
______
Sloan glanced into the back seat. “Mary Aileen, why are you bobbing around all over the place?”
“One of the kittens got out of the box. Papa, can you pull over?”
He pulled to the shoulder and shifted into neutral. He twisted in the seat. Edan exchanged knowing looks with him and rolled his eyes upward. They both grinned.
Sam was out of her seat and stooping at the opened back door, helping Mary Aileen search nooks and crannies. She stood again. “Cole, it’s not here.”
“Where else would it be? It certainly couldn’t climb out of the car.”
“She had it when we left the picnic area. It must be back where we stopped last.”
“Then a fox has it by now. That’s been two hours.”
“Paa—paa!” wailed his elder daughter.
Sloan stared at Sam. Sam held his eye firmly. “Please,” she said simply.
“Get in,” he grumbled. With a glance up and down the track he cranked the wheel tightly. The touring car lurched out into the roadway, back in the direction they’d come.
Of all the miserable, useless things God ever created, kittens must rank at the top
, Sloan thought to himself.
______
Hannah hadn’t intended to actually sit down on this dusty slope. Her knees buckled. Regardless, here she sat in a tangled heap. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth and she couldn’t see well. Her vision seemed to be closing in.
Maybe she would take a little nap, just a rest, and continue on when this torrid sun slipped closer to the hills. She rolled to her side. It felt so very good to close her eyes.
______
“Mary Aileen, walk ahead of the car and make sure I don’t run over the thing.” Sloan waited as she leaped out.
“I’ll help.” Edan jumped out, too. They walked briskly, their eyes searching the slope. Sloan shoved the car into first and eased forward.