Walks the Fire Read Online Free PDF Page B

From somewhere Lavinia had produced a clean gown for the baby. Jesse allowed herself to look, and a small cry escaped her throat. Kneeling beside the toddler’s lifeless form, she scooped him up in her arms and began to croon softly, rocking the baby. Tears left tracks on her dust-streaked face. Lavinia knelt beside Jesse in the dust with her arms about her friend’s bowed shoulders.
    Homer left Jesse to her tears, standing by the wagon, waiting for her to finish. Nervously he twirled his hat in his hands. At last, Jesse’s grasp on the child loosened.
    Lavinia slipped away as Jesse numbly rose, went to Homer’s side, and waited for him to speak.
    Finally he placed an arm across Jesse’s shoulders and repeated, “I had a grip… and then…”
    Jesse interrupted him. “It wasn’t your fault, Homer. It could have happened to anyone.”
    The words seemed to release something within the man. As his body shook with a wave of relief, a sigh escaped. He stepped away from Jesse, straightened his shoulders, and reached into the wagon for a shovel. He almost growled the words, “I may not have kept him safe… but I’ll make sure the dang coyotes leave him in peace now.”
    Furiously he began to dig the small grave. Deeper and deeper the spade went into the hard prairie until, exhausted, he sat on the edge of the hole. He looked at Jesse again and found her standing next to the wagon where he had left her. When her eyes met his gaze he looked quickly away and spoke to the distant horizon, “Guess we’d better be done with it.”
    “Wait a moment—please.” Jesse struggled with Jacob’s body, but managed to get inside the wagon with the still form in her arms. Homer heard things being moved about inside. It seemed to take a long time, but he could not bear to join her in the wagon. It would be too intimate, somehow, to be cooped up with her now, just when she had lost her child.
    Jesse emerged from the wagon, carrying Jacob wrapped in the blue and white baby quilt Homer had not seen since Jacob had begun to toddle about. He did not even realize that she had brought it on the trip.
    Jesse tried to wipe the dust from Jacob’s face as she handed him over to Homer. He laid the body in the grave, and then hesitated, not knowing quite what to do. “Seems like there ought to be a word said…”
    Jesse retreated once more into the wagon and returned with her Bible. For once, Homer did not frown at the appearance of the book. In the past he had accused Jesse of shirking her chores in favor of reading the worn book. “Homer, dear,” she would say gently, “I can do my work so much better, and be of much more use to you, after I have spent time with the Lord.” It was the one area of her life where she seemed bent on having her own way. Homer grudgingly gave in to her “woman’s weakness” and let her read the Bible. But today, it seemed right that she should read from the book. He was grateful that she had it and that she would know where to read.
    Jesse did know what she wanted to read. Not that it would be of any help to her precious Jacob, but her own aching heart sorely needed the comfort of familiar words. And so she turned to the beloved passage and began to read. “The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.” She read quietly, with dignity, her voice faltering a little when she read the passage, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil” but otherwise she read steadily. At the close of the psalm she bowed her head. Homer followed suit and listened as Jesse talked to her God.
    “Lord,” she said softly, “we do not know why you would take our only child, but we know that you love us, and that you will cause it to work for our good… Lord, help us to trust you even now, when our hearts are broken.” She wanted to say more, but found that she could not. She did not even whisper, “Amen,” but turned and fled to the wagon. She flung herself inside and onto the