MONDAY, JUNE3
Climbing out of bed, Anna groaned. She thought she’d been sore after the wagon ride back home. Today was a new kind of hurt.
While the flash flood hadn’t swept her and Misty too far away, they were plenty bruised and banged up by debris and each other in the swirling waters.
Thankfully, Misty was still a strong swimmer, but by the time they’d reached home, Anna’s horse was limping and slow.
She’d raced around getting the mare comfortable in the barn, tried to get her to eat, put liniment on all the open wounds. But Misty laid down in the hay and closed her eyes. It had taken every ounce of Anna’s energy to get back to the house and undress so she wouldn’t shiver herself to death.
As much as she longed for more sleep, Anna dressed as quickly as she could. The thought of finding her horse not breathing today was almost more than she could bear.
Whatever the outcome though, shehadto know. She needed to see for herself.
“Anna?” Dad’s voice stopped her as she tiptoed through the house.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t wake me, dearest. How are you feeling this morning?”
She reached around him and kissed his cheek. “Quite battered, to be honest.”
That brought his attention to full focus. “Should I fetch the doctor?”
“No. I don’t think it’s anything as serious as that. But I am worried about Misty and wanted to check on her.”
“Me too.” As much as her father seemed oblivious to everything around him when he was studying, he still cared. Last night he had comforted her in the barn, told her the sweet horse needed rest, and wrapped his arm around her. After he brought her back to the house, he’d ordered her to take a hot bath and proceeded to make a fresh pot of coffee. They’d chatted by the fire until her nerves calmed, the tears had stopped, and her body screamed for her bed.
“Let’s go check on her now, shall we?” Dad wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
Side by side they walked to the barn. Words weren’t necessary.
His presence gave her a bit of strength. She inhaled long and slow before opening the barn door.
Anna rushed back to Misty’s stall and found her old horse standing and nibbling at the bucket of grain she’d left for her last night.
Dad stepped next to her. “Well, isn’t that a beautiful sight?”
She hugged him and grinned. Her insides shuddered as tears slid down her cheeks. She’d braced herself for the worst, and now that it hadn’t happened, her body didn’t know whether to faint or jump for joy. “I was so worried...” She didn’t even want to voice the words. Swallowing them back, she lifted her chin and breathed a prayer of thanksgiving to God.
“The Lord spared you two last night. I’m still amazed.” Dad shook his head.
“Me too.” She’d heard the stories of the hundred-year floods but had never seen one. Only the gullies they left behind. Reminders of last night prickled at her skin. But not just the physical wounds. It was time she came to grips with her feelingsfor Joshua and the fact that she’d kept God at arm’s length for too long.
Her father took her elbow. “What say you and I get some breakfast and then take a walk. We can stretch our legs and see if anything has changed since we’ve been gone.”
“You mean see if the flooding uncovered anything.” She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms over her chest. “I know you, Dad. Your eye is always looking for what you can dig up next.”
“I love my work. What can I say?” With a shrug, he winked at her. “But if you’re not feeling up to it, I understand. It can wait.”
She wouldn’t change her father for anything. “If I stay in bed all day, it will only hurt worse tomorrow. I’d love to take you up on that walk. As long as I get to bring my sketch pad.”
“Deal.”
“Let me leave a note for Louise. She’ll be here in an hour or so.” The sweet daughter of the Bowden family in Walker Creek was the oldest of twelve siblings. She’d worked for the Lakemans the last two years whenever they were home, and it helped provide for the Bowdens’ large family. It would be good to have her around again. She was the closest thing Anna had to a friend her own age.
Thirty minutes later, she closed the door to her home and tied her bonnet under her chin. Dad stabbed the ground with his tall walking stick and held out his other arm. “Shall we?”
The air was crisp and clean after the rain. Wyoming was such a dry territory, it always intrigued Anna how much the air changed after a big thunderstorm. They didn’t happen often, but oh, how she loved them.
