Free Rivers of Gold by Tracie Peterson Page A

Grace and Leah both looked at each other and then to the baby. Grace began to smile. A fine trio they were with their tears.
    “He’s probably hungry,” Grace surmised. “The midwife told me he would probably want to nurse first thing.”
    “Is there anything I can do? Is there anything you need?” Leah asked, drying her eyes.
    Grace untied the neck of her nightgown with her free hand. “No, nothing. God has seen to making this quite a selfsufficient matter.” She positioned the crying baby to her breast and watched as he began rooting. She startled when he latched on and began to suck.
    Leah laughed. “He must be pretty hungry. You must be hungry too. I’ll fix you some food.”
    Grace nodded. She was feeling both hungry and weary. When Leah had gone to the stove, Grace returned her gaze to the dark-haired baby. How wondrous and awesome to hold something so tiny, so alive, and know that it came about because of the love she shared with her husband. God had given her a son—a son who would no doubt be very much like his father.
    As if to concur, Andy opened his eyes and looked up at her. Grace couldn’t help smiling. She saw the future in her son’s eyes. She saw the hope that she and Peter could one day be united again in love.
    “Oh, let it be, dear Father,” she whispered.
    To their surprise, not more than an hour after his departure, Crispin Thibault returned to their tent. He brought with him a none-to-pleased local doctor. The man grunted a greeting to Grace and Leah, then immediately took the baby in hand to examine him.
    “I thought you might both rest better if a doctor were to declare everything well done,” Crispin announced.
    Leah pulled the blanket across the roping to afford Grace and the doctor some privacy. She turned to Crispin and smiled. “Will you stay?” she asked hopefully.
    “No.” His voice was flat and void of emotion. “I can’t.”
    “Because of Miranda?”
    Crispin looked blankly at Leah for a moment. “Yes.”
    “It hurts a lot to lose someone you love. I know because I’ve lost both my ma and pa. I was really scared to be here with Grace, and I know I couldn’t have done it without you. See, my mama died trying to have a baby. I was scared Grace would die, too.”
    “Yes, well,” Crispin stammered in obvious discomfort, “it’s all behind us now.”
    “But it’s not,” Leah said, putting her hand on his arm. “You won’t stay with us because of Miranda’s death. You blame yourself, but it isn’t your fault.”
    “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” His voice took on a gruff edge. “I need to go. The snow has abated, and no doubt Karen will return.”
    “Please, Crispin, don’t go. I know how you feel inside, but the whiskey won’t help.”
    “You talk as one who knows, and yet you’re a child.”
    “My mama said whiskey was nothing more than a crutch some folks used to help them hobble down the road to hell.”
    Crispin actually smiled at this. “I suppose her to be correct in that statement.”
    “She said God was the only one who could ease our sufferings.”
    He frowned again. “I see God as a crutch used by mere mortals to raise them higher to some supposed glory.”
    “I don’t mind leaning on God as a crutch,” Leah declared boldly. “I’d sure enough rather lean on God than a bottle.”
    “That’s your choice. Now leave me to mine.”
    Crispin turned to go, but Leah held fast to his arm. “You can’t just ignore God or your need for Him. My mama always said that without God we’ll never be happy. You do want to be happy again, don’t you, Crispin?”
    He looked down at her, his dark gaze penetrating. “I will never be happy again. Not with God. Not without Him.”
    He jerked away from her hold and left without even waiting to hear of Grace’s condition. Leah felt a strange desire to run after Crispin. She had admired the man from their first meeting, and when she’d learned that he didn’t believe in God, she felt