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Imagining Janie out on a date with Grady had nearly sent him to the ER. Literally, thanks to this lifelong lung damage he had. Seeing her with him at Bennett’s project house nearly had Hunter right back at the punching bag. Only this time there wouldn’t be anyone there to make sure he recovered. And for a hot minute, Hunter thought that might be a decent solution.
Instead he’d taken himself back up to Elk Pond, worked up a sweat splitting some firewood, stopped short of having another attack, and retrieved his phone to call the one man he knew who would give him solid advice.
John hadn’t let him down. Consoling, understanding, but also unmovable in his belief that God saw Hunter, knew his heart, and would work all things—even through the utter devastation of losing Janie forever, if that be the case—according to His good will.
“That’s a hard thing, holding to a faith that says God is good, even when the pain tells us otherwise. But, Hunter?” John had paused, ensuring Hunter was listening with more than his ears. “Godisgood. And He’ll do good in your life. I think you’ve already seen that in the hard things that have happened in this year alone. Allow Him to do His work, and maybe through you, He’ll reveal His love and goodness to the people you love and want His salvation for.”
Hazel. That was who John was referring to, and he was right. Hunter hadn’t found the right way, the right words, to share with Hazel his surrendering to Jesus. But he wanted to. With Hazel, though, it would take more than words.
She would have to witness God’s splendor.
Rounding the final bend in the trail that would empty from the pines onto the small plane that contained Elk Lake, Hunter paused. He listened, hoping to hear something that would indicate Nathan’s recovery. When nothing but the rustling of aspen leaves reached his hearing, he cupped his hands together and lifted Nathan’s name onto the cold breeze.
He held still. Listened. Still nothing.
Lifting his face toward the starry sky above, he whispered a prayer. “Jesus, You see him, don’t You? You know exactly where Nathan is. Please show us. And please keep him safe.”
He stepped forward and then paused again. “And, Jesus? Show us your splendor right here at Elk Lake. My sister—she’s lost, like Nathan. Only she doesn’t know it. Will You send Your search and rescue out for her?”
It was tempting to stand there and keep praying. He had a lot more he needed to tell his Savior. About how much his heart hurt because Janie was moving on—and how angry that made him, and that he felt his self-control slipping every time she was near or he thought about her with another man.
But the mission was Nathan, and Hunter reached for his military training to stay the course.
“Nathan!” Hunter called for the boy as he moved toward the end of the trail.
Was there something? There, to his left. Up the steep scramble of scrub oak. Turning toward that rise, Hunter called again. “Nathan!”
He leaned forward, tuned his hearing for anything not common to the area. Yes! There was something . . .
Help.
Is that what he’d heard? It wasn’t the breeze, was it? A bough scuffing against another limb up by the upper part of the creek?
“Help!”
No. That was definitely a voice. A desperate, frightened boy’s voice. Hunter leapt into the scrub and pushed his legs up the steep slope, bushing stiff branches from his path and ignoring the sounds of tearing fabric and the sting of cuts against his arms. “Nathan! Stay put. I’m coming.”
Man, how did he get up there? That was the opposite direction of the corrals—which was why Bennett and Hazel hadn’t looked this way.
More pressing, had Nathan seen the rocky ledge that overlooked the lake, or in the pitch of darkness, had he walked straight off it, tumbling onto the rock slide directly below?
God!Nathan’s call had come from that direction.Please . . .
Hunter reached a small leveling point, and he turned slightly left toward that granite outcropping. From where he was now, he’d be beneath the overlook. “Nathan! Where are you?”
“Help!” This time the call was absolutely clear. And terrified.
“Where are you?”
“Rocks . . .” His voice cracked hard.
He’d fallen. Hunter felt certain of it. Why hadn’t he, or any of the others, heard it? Surely Nathan would have shouted, wouldn’t he?
For Hunter’s part, it was distinctly possible that he’d been too lost in the chaos of his head. An absolute failure for a rescue mission.Focus. You always focus.
As Hunter reprimanded himself, his mind went rogue, jumping to the memory of his parents. They’d fallen to their death in a sudden storm, leaving Hunter and Hazel orphans. His grandfather had used that same black granite rock face his parents had fallen from to end his own life.
Now Nathan?
