Free Music to Die For by Radine Trees Nehring Page B

Carrie was gasping breath, moving in a black hole of pain and fear for a missing child.
    They were almost to the van when she felt Tracy go limp and start to slump. Pulled by Tracy’s weight, Carrie began to topple after her, but at the last moment her arm slid free. Unsupported, Tracy folded silently to the ground and lay there, motionless as a rag doll.
    Chase continued on to the van, ignoring all three women. After he had unlocked the doors, his sharp voice ordered, “Get in. Momma, in the front, you— Carrie—in back.”
    When the two women were seated, Chase returned for Tracy and, lifting her across the back seat, put her head in Carrie’s lap. He moved slowly, carefully, his eyes shadowed and sorrowful. It’s as if, Carrie thought, he’s grieving for a dead wife rather than carrying a living one.
    Tears stung Carrie’s own eyes as she laid her hand on Tracy’s forehead, thinking of the moment in the dressmaker’s shop when the sobbing young woman had said, “I laid my hand on his forehead like Momma would when we were kids.” It was a natural thing to do. Tracy was breathing evenly, strongly, and her temperature felt normal—a good sign.
    “Perhaps this is not so bad,” Carrie said, more to herself than to Brigid Mason, who had turned in the front seat and was watching them. “How much is any human supposed to endure? Tracy seems so young, so vulnerable. For now, at least, maybe the nightmare things are shut out.”
    Carrie had stood up under some pretty awful human challenges but didn’t know how well she could have made it through this kind of hell. If it had been twenty-five years ago and the missing child was Rob...
    She shut her eyes in silent prayer, thinking of God’s tender love for everyone and especially for Dulcey Mason. As Carrie was praying, Chase got in the driver’s seat, and he and his mother began talking in low tones, but Carrie paid no attention to them. She had begun stroking Tracy’s hair and face, speaking the words of the 91 st Psalm to her very softly.
    She was up to, “For he shall give his angels charge over thee,” when Chase and his mother fell silent.
    “I see yer a prayin’ woman,” Brigid said, turning to look at her again. “That’s good, we can sure use the Lord’s he’p about now. I hope He’s watching over Dulcey and she’s not too scared.”
    “He is with her,” Carrie said and went back to low-voiced repetition of the words that had comforted and helped her so many times.
    Tracy stirred, whispered, “Dulcey,” once, then was quiet as Carrie finished: “With long life will I satisfy him, and shew him my salvation.” After a short pause, she returned to the beginning and said again, “He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the almighty.” As she spoke, she was aware that Chase had started the van and they were moving.
    When the Psalm ended for the second time, Carrie shut her eyes for a moment, then raised her head and looked toward Brigid and Chase.
    Keeping her voice as low as possible, she asked, “Shouldn’t we call the fire department? Could the fire spread?”
    “Won’t be enough left to save,” Chase said, “’n’ the woods are too damp to catch. Fire truck’ll come anyway. Neighbors across the valley’ll have seen the flames, ’n’ besides, the sheriff’ll be headed this way soon enough.”
    Accenting his words, flashing lights appeared around the curve ahead of them. A fire engine and water truck passed, leading a long, winding line of volunteer fire department members in their trucks and cars.
    “I hope they don’t think anyone was in that house,” Carrie said. “We could tell them no one was.”
    “Why should they take our word?” Chase asked. “’N’ reporting it’d just make trouble for us. They’ll have to search through what’s left anyhow. Besides, they’ll see there’s no car there. Farel’s car’s in the employee parking lot. I saw it myself when we went