The Breaking Point (21 page)

D
ECEMBER
19, 2003

3:30
P.M.

“COME ON, ANSWER. SOMEBODY ANSWER THE PHONE.”

Grace waited three rings, four, five, six …

It was no use. The Romans weren’t there. With a small sigh and a shake of her head, she hit the off button and stared at the phone. Renee had told her they’d be home by noon at the latest. Oren said Grace should just be patient, just wait for them to call, but she couldn’t stand it.

She’d been calling since two, but there was still no answer.

Where were they?

At a sound behind her, quick heat rushed to her cheeks as she plunked the phone back in its base. She put her hands behind her back as she turned, but one look at Oren’s face told her he wasn’t the least bit fooled.

“You called them again?”

Grace didn’t bother replying. She just looked at the ground. “Well?”

She crossed her arms and met her husband’s expectant gaze. “Well what?” “Any answer?”

“Aha!” She clapped her hands. “You wanted to know, too, didn’t you?” “Grace …”

Her smug reply told him he didn’t have to admit it, she’d seen the truth in his eyes. “No, no answer.”

Oren tipped his head and held out his hand. “Then you have your answer.”

She frowned at that. What was he talking about? “What answer? There wasn’t any answer.”

“Grace …”

“That’s what I keep telling you.”

“Grace …”

“For heaven’s sake, Oren, if you aren’t going to listen to me I don’t know what … what …”

Well, really now! How was she supposed to concentrate on what she was saying when he just stood there, holding her hand, watching her with that infuriatingly patient smile on his lips? She frowned again. What had she been saying?

“That is, I don’t know …”

The gentle tug at her hand brought her to a halt, and she studied her husband’s features. He still looked so expectant. What was he waiting for? Grace gnawed at her lip, staring at the phone, thinking.

She had her answer … she had her—

Oh.

“Oren?”

“Yes, dear?” His smile broadened into a grin.

Well, really! He didn’t have to look so pleased with himself.
But even as she thought that, she knew it wasn’t himself Oren was pleased with. It was her. Because he could tell she finally understood.

She squeezed his hand. “When you said I had my answer, you weren’t talking about them answering, were you?”

“No, dear.”

“You were talking about God answering, weren’t you?”

“Yes, dear.”

With another sigh, Grace straightened. “Well, then, what are we waiting for? Let’s pray. And Oren?”

His lips quirked. “Yes, dear?”

“I think we need to pray that God does something … evident. Something to let Renee and Gabriel know without a doubt that He’s with them.”

Oren’s eyes shone. “I love you, Grace.”

She gave his hand another squeeze, and this time she was the one who grinned. “Because I’m so sweet spirited and submissive?”

He laughed, drawing her into his arms. She nestled close. They fit together so well.

“Because, my dear wife, you’re so you.”

She leaned back in her husband’s arms and planted a kiss on his bearded cheek.

“Because you’re so you.” It didn’t get any better than that.

D
ECEMBER
19, 2003

3:30
P.M.

THE STORM WAS LETTING UP.

At first Gabe had thought he was talking himself into thinking that so he wouldn’t give in to discouragement. Every step had been a battle against the driving wind, and the aches and pains left over from the accident just got worse as he strained to keep going. It helped to have Bo with him. The husky was clearly in his element. He bent his broad head and plowed forward, pulling Gabe along with him as he lunged through the snow.

But now as he walked, he was sure it was true. The wind wasn’t as fierce; the snow wasn’t as dense. He could even see as much as ten or fifteen feet ahead.

His gaze traveled along the rope in front of him, and he came to an abrupt halt. Bo strained against his leash, then halted as well,
looking back at him as if to say, “What’s the problem? Let’s
go!”

But Gabe couldn’t go, because just ahead of them the rope seemed to disappear in the thick branches of a fir.

What on earth?

Bo came to press against his legs, with that perpetually curious expression on his fuzzy face. Gabe shook his head. “I don’t know what the deal is, boy. But I’m gonna find out.”

He ran his hand along the rope, following it into the tree, and a hard knot formed in his gut. The rope was tied off to the tree trunk.

He’d reached the end.

So much for following the rope to Renee. He stepped back and looked around. Now what? Which way would she have gone?

The answer was quick and sure:
West. She wrote in her note that she was going west.

Bo strained at his leather leash, and Gabe dropped to one knee, slipping his arm around the restless dog. “Settle, boy. Give me a minute to think.”

Bo’s rear end dropped into the snow, and he leaned into Gabe, staring up at him as though he had all the answers.

Don’t I wish …
Gabe gave the dog’s ears an absent scratch as he looked one direction, then another, seeking some sign, some depression in the snow, some remnant of a footprint.

There was nothing.

Except the note. She told you in her note which way she was heading.

Gabe rubbed his aching eyes, not even caring that his glove was cold and wet. True enough, but he knew his wife better than to take what she wrote at face value.

He looked at Bo. “Renee is a creature of impulse, boy. She’s as likely to change her mind as she is to hold to the bearing she said.” He shrugged. “What do you think?”

Bo gave him a quick lick, making Gabe chuckle through his fatigue. “That’s not exactly helpful, buddy.”

He stood again, and his fist closed around the rope as a prayer squeezed from his heart.
Please … I can’t afford a mistake here.

There was no sudden light to direct him, no angel with an ethereal glow suddenly standing in the driving snow and pointing one direction or another. Gabe shook his head.

Typical.

Just once…just once he wished it could be different. Just once when he prayed, he wanted to be one of those people who saw God act. How many times had he sat there, listening while others talked about the miraculous ways God answered their prayers? He usually smiled, lips tight to keep them from seeing his gritted teeth.
He’d
never seen God. Not really. The one time he thought he had, the one time he thought God had spoken to him, called him, he’d been wrong.

On the heels of his anger came a soft voice echoing in his head:
You haven’t seen God? What about all that’s happened with you and Renee? What about the fact that you’re still together? God has been at work in your life, all through your life.

Gabe sighed. It was true. He knew it was. But sometimes … well, he just wanted God to give him something to show He was listening when it felt like He wasn’t. Was that so much to ask?

He started to stand, when Bo suddenly lunged to his feet and bolted, pulling Gabe off balance. His arms flew out in front of him and, as he landed face first in the snow, Bo’s leash slid free from his wrist.

Gabe scrambled to his feet. “No!
Stay!”

Bo didn’t even break stride. With a low yodel, the dog bounded into the woods.

Gabe raced after him, but it was no use. Huskies were built to run, and Bo was husky through and through. That dog could practically fly over the ground, even covered as it was with snow.

His breath came in ragged gulps and an impotent fury
swept him. Was
this
God’s way of showing He was listening? Gabe wanted to shake his fists at the heavens.
What do I do now? Tell me, God. What am I supposed to do now?

He had to find Renee. He couldn’t waste time chasing after a dog. But the thought of leaving Bo out there to freeze, to starve—Gabe couldn’t. Bo might just be a dog, but he was his dog. He slept by Gabe’s side of the bed, was there every day at the door when he came home from work, loved to sit next to him on the couch when he watched TV …

All true, but he’s still just a dog.

Indecision caught at him, but he pushed it away.
Make it simple. If Bo has gone west, then follow him. That way you’ll be going after him and Renee. If not …

Gabe grabbed the compass hanging around his neck, his movements so forceful that he felt the lanyard bite into the back of his neck. Did God hear prayers that were forced out through gritted teeth? Gabe hoped so. A good number of his were said that way.

He took a quick reading and felt a flash of rueful gratitude. Bo was headed west. Maybe God was listening after all.

At least Bo wouldn’t be hard to track. The dog had plowed a fairly deep trail in the snow when he bounded away. That was something.

Not much, mind you. But it was something.

Gabe had almost given up hope of finding Bo when he heard a sound that sent his heart racing: barking. Well, half bark, half yodel.

Bo! It had to be!

Despite the ache in his head that had now traveled into his arms and legs, Gabe broke into a run. At least the wind wasn’t fighting him now. The storm had finally spent itself, and though the sky was still overcast and muted, there was no more than a gentle breeze now.

He dodged trees and limbs, drawing closer to the sound with each step. Finally he saw a flash of cinnamon amid the blanket of white—Bo’s coat! But what was he doing at the base of that tree?

Gabe’s heart caught in his throat when he saw what—or who—Bo was lying on. Renee! He rushed forward, falling to his knees beside her.

She didn’t move.

He slipped the glove off of one hand and pressed trembling fingers to the pulse at her throat, then dropped his head. The beat was slow, but it was there.

Thank God … thank God …

Gabe threw his arms around Bo and gave him a hug. “I take back everything I just muttered at you, boy!”

Bo’s bicolored eyes usually danced with mischief. Now the animal’s expression seemed almost somber, as if he knew just how serious things were.

Not as serious as they could have been, though.

Gabe’s mouth quirked at the thought. Renee would have been proud of his optimism. Maybe she was beginning to rub off on him.

He shrugged off his pack. “I can’t believe you found her, boy. It’s a miracle.”

Bo’s bland stare, as though Gabe had just demonstrated a keen sense of the way-too-obvious, drew him up short. He hesitated as realization stirred around inside him, making its way through his muddled emotions until it planted itself firmly in his mind.

God had answered his prayer. And the way He’d done it really
was
a miracle. Male huskies were known runners, and once free they usually didn’t stop for anything or anyone. Not only had Bo stopped when he found Renee, he’d stayed with her. On top of her, keeping her warm.

If that wasn’t amazing enough, Bo had yelped at just the right moment so Gabe could find them.

He shook his head and started pulling out the supplies he needed to get a fire going, sorting through his emotions as he sorted the kindling. “I’m sorry, God. I thought You weren’t listening. When Bo ran off—” he snapped a piece of kindling in half—“I figured You not only weren’t listening, but You didn’t care. And all the while, You were taking care of everything.”