glowing through the windows. Her siblings were still working, trying to make up for her lack.
Somewhere in the not-too-far distance, a long, continuous car horn pierced the quietness of the night.
An awful noise rang through the air, waking Luke. He tried to open his eyes. Piercing pain ran up Luke’s right arm and down his back. Where was he? And why did he hurt so badly? Forcing his eyes open, he gazed at a dark sky filled with brilliant stars and a sliver of the new moon. He was lying on damp grass, but why? And what was that ear-piercing sound?
He rolled to his side and pushed against the dewy grass, but only one arm was able to help him; the other hung limp with excruciating pain. As he staggered to his feet, pieces of what had happened came to him. He spun, looking across the open field where he’d landed. He didn’t see Mary. Blinking, he turned his attention to the buggy—some thirty feet away. Pain beyond anything he’d ever experienced throbbed through his head and down his right arm and back. He didn’t care. He had to find her.
A car with its headlights on was smashed against the open-top carriage. The impact must have thrown him. Maybe it threw Mary too.
Cringing in agony, Luke strode toward the car. “Mary! Mary!” If he could stop that deafening noise, she might be able to hear him. Scanning the surrounding area through his blurred vision, he stumbled across the open field and toward the road. As he got closer, the car lights silhouetted his overturned buggy. Pain disappeared as panic struck him. With his long legs, he straddled the barbed-wire fence and then brought his back leg over. While trying to gain his balance, he fell into the ditch on the other side.
“Mary! Where are you?” He dragged himself to his feet. The horse was on its side, thrashing and whinnying. Even with the aid of the car lights, he couldn’t find Mary. For the first time in his life he ached to lift a heartfelt prayer, a plea from his soul to God. Suddenly he realized he didn’t know how to pray, other than the standard rote prayers from the Christenpflicht .
O Lord God, heavenly Father, bless us with these Thy gifts, which we shall … The memorized words flooded his thoughts. Pushing past the ceremonial jargon that filled his mind, he tried to think of a more-applicable prayer. He couldn’t. Never in his life had he used anything but the rote prayers. He needed real help, and he needed a real God to hear him. Now.
Luke looked toward heaven. “God, please.” Shame swallowed him. How dare he think he had the right to lift his head toward heaven and speak so honestly to the Lord of all?
He glanced at what was left of the upended carriage. His legs buckled. He landed on his knees. “Please, Father, if You will, help us.”
Warm chills ran through his body, sort of like the ones he felt when Mary touched him, but these were stronger, more …
He looked at the deep purple sky with glittering white stars and a tiny, crescent-shaped moon.
A strong desire to release the mare flowed over him. With renewed strength, he stumbled to his feet and made his way to the horse. In the twin streams of light from the car, Luke witnessed terror in the animal’s bulging eyes. Based on the stride marks in the soft dirt and torn-up grasses of the shallow ditch, she’d worked hard to try to stand. She had gashes where the shafts of the buggy had gouged her flanks when it was pushed forward by the impact of the car.
“Easy, Old Bess, easy. Begreiflich, alt Gaul. Langsam un begreiflich .” Luke murmured idle phrases as he used his able hand to unfasten the leather straps from the shafts. Gently pulling on the reins, Luke guided and cajoled her until she finally stood. Old Bess tossed her head toward the sky and took off.
Luke ran to the car. In the driver’s seat he found a man slumped over the steering wheel. “Mister?” The man didn’t answer. Luke reached in and eased the man off the wheel. The deafening noise stopped.
A
Somewhere in the not-too-far distance, a long, continuous car horn pierced the quietness of the night.
An awful noise rang through the air, waking Luke. He tried to open his eyes. Piercing pain ran up Luke’s right arm and down his back. Where was he? And why did he hurt so badly? Forcing his eyes open, he gazed at a dark sky filled with brilliant stars and a sliver of the new moon. He was lying on damp grass, but why? And what was that ear-piercing sound?
He rolled to his side and pushed against the dewy grass, but only one arm was able to help him; the other hung limp with excruciating pain. As he staggered to his feet, pieces of what had happened came to him. He spun, looking across the open field where he’d landed. He didn’t see Mary. Blinking, he turned his attention to the buggy—some thirty feet away. Pain beyond anything he’d ever experienced throbbed through his head and down his right arm and back. He didn’t care. He had to find her.
A car with its headlights on was smashed against the open-top carriage. The impact must have thrown him. Maybe it threw Mary too.
Cringing in agony, Luke strode toward the car. “Mary! Mary!” If he could stop that deafening noise, she might be able to hear him. Scanning the surrounding area through his blurred vision, he stumbled across the open field and toward the road. As he got closer, the car lights silhouetted his overturned buggy. Pain disappeared as panic struck him. With his long legs, he straddled the barbed-wire fence and then brought his back leg over. While trying to gain his balance, he fell into the ditch on the other side.
“Mary! Where are you?” He dragged himself to his feet. The horse was on its side, thrashing and whinnying. Even with the aid of the car lights, he couldn’t find Mary. For the first time in his life he ached to lift a heartfelt prayer, a plea from his soul to God. Suddenly he realized he didn’t know how to pray, other than the standard rote prayers from the Christenpflicht .
O Lord God, heavenly Father, bless us with these Thy gifts, which we shall … The memorized words flooded his thoughts. Pushing past the ceremonial jargon that filled his mind, he tried to think of a more-applicable prayer. He couldn’t. Never in his life had he used anything but the rote prayers. He needed real help, and he needed a real God to hear him. Now.
Luke looked toward heaven. “God, please.” Shame swallowed him. How dare he think he had the right to lift his head toward heaven and speak so honestly to the Lord of all?
He glanced at what was left of the upended carriage. His legs buckled. He landed on his knees. “Please, Father, if You will, help us.”
Warm chills ran through his body, sort of like the ones he felt when Mary touched him, but these were stronger, more …
He looked at the deep purple sky with glittering white stars and a tiny, crescent-shaped moon.
A strong desire to release the mare flowed over him. With renewed strength, he stumbled to his feet and made his way to the horse. In the twin streams of light from the car, Luke witnessed terror in the animal’s bulging eyes. Based on the stride marks in the soft dirt and torn-up grasses of the shallow ditch, she’d worked hard to try to stand. She had gashes where the shafts of the buggy had gouged her flanks when it was pushed forward by the impact of the car.
“Easy, Old Bess, easy. Begreiflich, alt Gaul. Langsam un begreiflich .” Luke murmured idle phrases as he used his able hand to unfasten the leather straps from the shafts. Gently pulling on the reins, Luke guided and cajoled her until she finally stood. Old Bess tossed her head toward the sky and took off.
Luke ran to the car. In the driver’s seat he found a man slumped over the steering wheel. “Mister?” The man didn’t answer. Luke reached in and eased the man off the wheel. The deafening noise stopped.
A
Similar Books
