Page 72 of Fairest of Heart

A faraway sound broke off his words. Sharp. Resonant. A gunshot?

Lucky jerked away from him and barked. The dog bounded a few strides toward home, turned an impatient gaze on Enoch, then barked again.

Penny!

Enoch lurched away from the hillside, his chest tightening. He might not trust his own ancient ears to recognize gunfire from two miles away, but he trusted Lucky.

“Go home, boy. I’ll fetch the others.” Enoch waved the dog on. Lucky took off like a shot.

Without giving himself time to think, Enoch plunged into the cave, scurrying down the corridor as fast as his old bones would carry him.

“Dusty! Coy! Rowdy! There’s trouble at the ranch.” He cupped his hands around his mouth to amplify his shout, but his voice, like the rest of him, had been ravaged by time and didn’t project like it had in his younger years. He coughed a bit and tried again. “Dusty! Coy!”

No reply echoed through the chambers.

Enoch moved deeper into the cave. The path veered sharply to the left, cutting him off from the light pooling at the entrance. The ceiling pressed down until he had to hunch over to fit in the space. The walls narrowed. Dimness became darkness with only blackness ahead of him.

God, give me strength.

Keeping one hand on the wall to his right to orient himself, Enoch crept forward, his breathing shallow, his pulse thready.

“Rowdy!” He tried again. “Coy! We gotta go!”

A sound echoed from deep within the bowels of the cave. Enoch closed his eyes, trying to decipher what he heard, but it was too muddled. Praying they could hear him better than he could hear them, Enoch leaned against the wall, cupped his hands around his mouth, and shouted with all the strength he could muster.

“PENNY’S . . . IN . . . TROUBLE!”

Enoch opened his eyes and steeled his spine. Don’t be an infant, he chastised himself. He forced his feet to move. His head knocked against the lowering ceiling. He winced, rearranged his skewed hat, then bent his frame a little lower before marching on.

“‘Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee; but the night shineth as the day.’” He quoted Psalm 139 under his breath as he put one foot in front of the other. “‘The darkness and the light are both alike to thee.’”

God could see. God would lead. Enoch just had to follow in faith.

He felt his way deeper into the cave, praying with every step for God’s guidance.

“Dusty? Coy?” He called his friends’ names again and again. Then miracle of miracles, one answered.

“We’re comin’, Doc! Hold on.”

Thank you, Lord.

A halo of light emerged from around a corner. Behind it were three familiar shadowy forms. Rowdy held the lantern aloft while Dusty and Coy squeezed through a window-sized opening about twenty feet ahead. The light nearly vanished when Coy crammed his more sizable girth through the dwarfish doorway. He pushed through, though, and Rowdy quickly followed, bringing the beautiful glow of light with him.

Dusty reached Enoch first. “What’s wrong? We heard your shout but couldn’t quite make out the words.”

Enoch latched on to Dusty’s arm and started tugging him back toward the cave entrance. “We’ve got to get back to the ranch. I heard a gunshot. Something’s wrong.”

“Come on,” Dusty called over his shoulder. “The stones’ll keep.” He waved the others forward. Rowdy hurried to the front of the group, lighting the way as Dusty’s bowlegged stride set a fast pace. Coy offered Enoch an arm as the two taller men struggled to keep up with their shorter comrades who didn’t have to bend as they walked. Once outside, though, Enoch and Coy put their longer legs to work. While Rowdy stored his lantern for future use, the others started back. Ever since his accident, Rowdy preferred walking to riding, so they’d not brought the horses—a fact Enoch now regretted. He felt every one of his seventy-six years as they scrambled to get back to the ranch.

Rowdy caught up easily, then passed them, his daily excursions standing him in good stead. Enoch waved Dusty ahead, urging him to keep up with Rowdy if he could. He and Coy would bring up the rear.

Let them be alive.

Let them be alive.

Let them be alive.

His soul repeated the petition over and over, his gaze locked on the path in front of him. He couldn’t spare the time to twist an ankle in a critter hole or trip over a root. His family was counting on him. He wouldn’t let them down. Not this time.