Free Rivers of Gold by Tracie Peterson

and what if I need someone?” Leah questioned.
    Grace heard the concern in the child’s voice, while noting at the same time the determination in Crispin’s expression. “Perhaps Mr. Thibault has other obligations,” Grace said softly. She pulled her son closer to keep him from chilling. The baby slept as though completely disinterested in his surroundings.
    “I do indeed,” Crispin said, giving the ladies a slight bow. “I bid you farewell for a time.”
    Leah walked to where Crispin’s fur hat had been carelessly left to dry. “Here. Don’t forget your hat. You might need it.”
    He smiled at her as he took the hat. Grace couldn’t help but wonder what had transpired between Leah and Crispin prior to their arrival at her bedside. Crispin reached out and took hold of Leah’s hand. Bending, he kissed her fingers.
    “Parting is indeed a bittersweet sorrow.”
    “You don’t have to go,” Leah said matter-of-factly.
    “Ah, but I do. You’ll understand better as time goes by. Now stay here and care for our little mother and her babe. I’m sure Karen will return after the storm abates.”
    “But you shouldn’t go out in it either,” Leah protested.
    “I’ll be perfectly fine,” he assured them and then, without further ado, was gone.
    Leah’s eyes filled with tears and Grace reached out her hand. “Come here,” she said softly. “Come sit with me and Andy.”
    Leah sniffled. “Andy? You’ve named him already?”
    “I’ve thought for a long time of what I would call him, if I had a son. I love the name Andrew, and if you remember your Bible stories, you’ll know that Peter and Andrew were brothers who were called by Christ to become disciples. I figured with his father’s name being Peter, Andrew was a most appropriate name. They just go together, don’t you think?”
    Leah wiped at her eyes and nodded. “He is a beautiful baby, Grace. I was so scared he wouldn’t be born.”
    Grace squeezed her hand. “I know your mother died in childbirth. I’m sorry you had to bear this.”
    “I just kept thinking about Mama.” The tears fell in earnest now. Suddenly it seemed that the intensity of the day had finally caught up with Leah. She sobbed into her hands and buried her face against the side of Grace’s cover.
    Stroking the child’s head, Grace tried to think of some words of comfort. It seemed only a short time ago that she herself had been young like this—young and innocent and so very carefree. Grace thought of her home in Chicago. Of the finery and blessings they’d enjoyed. She had never known what it was to really need or want something. How very different things were now.
    She let Leah cry, thinking it was probably a cleansing help to the girl. So often people buried their feelings inside and never allowed them to come out, never let their souls be cleaned and refreshed by the rain of their tears.
    How very often I’ve tried to refrain from tears , she thought. I’ve tried to feel nothing but the determined hope that God would somehow make everything right, when down deep inside I hurt so very bad . Grace thought of Peter and looked to the baby who now slept wrapped safely in her arms. Would Peter care that he had a son? Would he forgive her the anger of the past and come to realize the importance of putting his trust in God?
    Surely it was better that she remain here, separated from her husband, to raise her son in the presence of God-fearing people who cared about them both, rather than return to a loveless marriage—a union that promised all parties nothing but pain and sorrow.
    Grace continued to stroke Leah’s hair, even as her own tears fell. Father, I know you have a plan in all of this. I know your love is there for me—for Andrew. But, God, it hurts so much to know that Peter is far away from us, to know that he doesn’t care for your Word, or for you . Grace cried softly while Leah’s sobs still filled the room.
    Andrew stirred and began to fuss. As he cried louder,