Love's Abiding Joy (Love Comes Softly #4)(57)

The man was not responding. He stared off into space and now and then mumbled or cursed as the warmth of the room increased the pain in his frostbitten limbs. Clark continued to speak to him, rubbing his hand as he spoke, careful not to touch the frostbitten fingers.

"Jedd, Nandry and Clae still worry 'bout ya. Still pray fer ya daily. They want ya back, Jedd. They want to share with ya their love, their family, their God. Remember, Jedd? Tina found peace with God before she died. Well, yer girls are servin' their mother's God, too, Jedd. There's nothin' thet they would like better then fer you to know God, too. Ya hear me, Jedd? Yer girls love ya. Nandry an' Clae--they love ya. Tina loved ya, an' God loves ya too, Jedd.

"Ya gotta keep fightin', man," Clark continued, speaking softly but with urgency. "Ya can't jest go an' give up now. Hang in there, Jedd."

It seemed to the cowboys in the room that there was hardly a pause in the low murmur of Clark's voice until Lane and the doctor arrived. Dr. De la Rosa examined Jedd carefully and gave him some medication. He shook his head as he turned to Clark and the waiting ranch hands.

"He is in bad shape. He was not well even before he was caught in the storm."

"Will he make it?" asked Clark.



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"I do not know."

"Please, Doc," said Clark, "iffen there is anything at all thet ya can be doin' fer 'im--anything to bring him through-- I'll stand the bill. This here is the father of two girls thet Marty an' me raised as our own. He's been bullheaded and stubborn, thoughtless and sometimes cruel, but his girls love 'im. Iffen only Jedd can live long enough fer someone to tell 'im of God's love an' fergiveness. Thet would mean so much to his girls--to us. Ya think thet ya can bring him 'round, Doc? I jest can't bear the thought of 'im dyin' without my being' able to talk with him about his girls and about God's love for 'im."

Dr. De la Rosa looked very solemn. "I can only try," he said. "You pray that God might work a miracle."

Dr. De la Rosa undoubtedly thought that Clark would go to his little soddy and kneel in prayer, but Clark saw the need as imminent. He immediately knelt beside the bed on which Jedd lay and began to pray fervently for a miracle. Around him feet shuffled as cowboys, uncertain of what to do, shifted position. Lane knew. He crossed to his bunk and knelt down beside Clark, joining him in his prayer.

"Dear God," began Clark, "Ya know this here man before us. He's been sinful, God, but so have we all. He's made some bad judgments, but so have we. He needs Ya, Lord, just as we all do. He has never recognized Ya as God an' Savior, an' he needs thet chance, Lord. He can't hear or respond in his present condition, so we need Ya to do a miracle, Lord, an' help the doc to bring him 'round so thet we can talk with him and read Yer Word so thet he might have thet chance to decide fer hisself. We are askin' this, Lord, in the name of Jesus, Yer Son, who died thet each one of us--includin' Jedd here--could have life eternal. Thank ya, Lord, for hearin' the prayer of those of us who bow before Ya. Amen."

Clark stood up, adjusting his crutch to support himself. The man before him still lay unconscious. Lane reached out and touched the whiskered cheek. Then he turned to the doctor.

"What's next, Doc?"

Juan looked back at the man on the bed. "I think I should



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take him to my home. I can put him on the cot in the office." All eyes looked at the doctor, questioning.

The doctor continued. "He is going to need much care. We can watch him there. It will give my mother the feeling to be needed. She wishes to do something for someone, and this will be her chance. If I am able to help this man . . ." Juan hesitated, then continued. "I think that it is too late to save many of his fingers and toes. Perhaps he will lose them all."

It was sobering news. Clark noticed some of the hands in the room unconsciously curl up into fists as though defying fate to try to take their own.

Lane moved first. "Ya want me to git a team?" he asked the doctor.

"Yes. Put lots of hay in the bottom of a wagon. We'll need to make him a bed."

For the second time that Christmas Eve, Lane made a trip to the doctor's, this time driving the team that carried a critically ill man. His saddle horse tied to the rear, Dr. De la Rosa rode in the wagon with them, watching Jedd to be sure he stayed well covered in the bitter winter wind.

Clark returned to the little soddy and found that Marty had not gone to bed.

"I've been a-frettin' an' thinkin' all kinds of things," she said.

"You'll never believe this," said Clark, "but thet man Scottie brought in off the range is Jedd Larson."

"Jedd?"

"Shore ain't in very good shape."

"Oh, Clark. Did ya tell 'im 'bout his girls? Did he say--"

"Jedd didn't say much 'ceptin' a few cuss words, Marty. He is plumb outa his head. No, thet's not right. He did say one thing. Over an' over. He said 'Tina.'

"Tina .. . Then he remembers."

"Somehow thet one name gave me hope, Marty. Somehow it helped me to believe this wasn't jest fate thet sent Jedd this way, but God givin' him thet chance to find Him."