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satisfied did he ride on.

NINE
    Another Sunday arrived, but unlike the previous week, this one dawned with clear skies. As soon as her morning chores were done, Julia saddled Teddy and rode to her favorite spot on the river. There, in the shade of several tall pine trees, Bandit exploring nearby, she spread a blanket and opened her Bible.
    A few times in the early years of her marriage, she’d railed at God or begged Him to rescue her. More than once she’d demanded to know why things were as they were. There had been periods when she was convinced God thought even less of her than Angus did. Not true, of course. The Lord loved her. Somehow He’d broken through her fear, pain, and anger and revealed Himself and His love. When she couldn’t think of anything else to thank Him for, she always thanked Him for that.
    This morning, she lay on her back on the huge rock that jutted over a bend in the river and called out a portion of a favorite Psalm:
    For there is not a word in my tongue ,
    but lo, O L ORD, thou knowest it altogether .
    Thou hast beset me behind and before ,
    and laid thine hand upon me .
    She smiled as she let her eyes close. How marvelous to understand that no matter what path she was on, God went before herand He was also behind her. He enclosed her. His hand was upon her. What a difference it made, knowing it. If only she could be conscious of it at all times.
    “I’m trying, Father.”
    Keeping her eyes closed, she sought to be still, she sought to listen to Him. But it wasn’t God’s quiet voice that came to her. It was Hugh Brennan’s: “Some folks live their whole lives without ever knowing what they want or where they belong.”
    His comment left her oddly disturbed. But why should that be so? She did belong here. Sage-hen was her home. True, at one time it had seemed more of a prison, but now it was her sanctuary.
    “One day we’ll leave Grand Coeur and go some place far from here. Like a couple of birds, we’ll just fly away … I want you to stretch your wings, my darlin’ girl, and learn to soar.”
    Julia opened her eyes and saw the trees above her sway in a gust of wind. A dozen or so birds abandoned their resting places, flying high and fast, as if giving her an example of what her mother had wanted for her so long ago.
    If Julia had wings, where would they take her? What would she want to see? A big city? Perhaps San Francisco or New York. Another country? France or Italy or maybe Greece. The ocean? Any ocean. But try as she might, she couldn’t imagine herself anywhere but here. Even her childhood in Idaho seemed to have happened to someone else, more dreams than memories.
    “Would you still want me to fly away, Mama?” she wondered aloud.
    Madeline Crane had always wanted something better, something different for her daughter. She’d done what she could to make sure Julia escaped the kind of life she’d had. But it had all turned out so very wrong, and Julia had blamed her mother for that.
    “I’m sorry, Mama. I know God forgives me for the harsh wordsI wrote to you. I regret them so much. I hope you know I love you. Someday I hope you’ll forgive me too. If only I knew where you were. If only …”
    She rolled onto her stomach. Lifting her upper torso by her forearms, she stared at the flowing water beyond the end of the rock. The river was deep and swift here. And cold. So very, very cold. Several years ago, after miscarrying her last baby, she’d come to this rock and considered throwing herself into the river. In her grief, death had seemed the only answer to her misery. But an unseen hand had fallen upon her shoulder, stopping her. An inaudible voice had spoken comfort into her heart, and somehow she’d found the strength and courage to live on. To face Angus’s fury at her continued failure to give him a living child.
    Tears sprang to her eyes and slid down her cheeks.
    Her babies. She’d wanted her babies. Despite the unhappiness of her marriage and the loathing