we have the future.”
“I believe that, Mama. I got saved when the twister whirled around us. Asked Jesus to live inside me.”
All the emotion simmering since the sky turned green burst forth as though a dam filled with love broke inside her. She held out her arms to her precious son, and he fell into her embrace. Each was crying and holding on to the other.
Bonnie had no idea how much time had passed, but when she looked up, Michael Paul stood before her, as well as Brother Travis, who was holding Lydia Anne.
“Thank you.” She smiled into his face as she opened her arms for her other children. Staring into the kind face of the man who seemed to have an endless supply of love, she realized her feelings for him had begun to change into something that frightened her.
“We were in a miracle,” Lydia Anne said.
Bonnie kissed her while the little girl still rested in Travis’s arms. “Don’t you mean a twister?”
She shook her head, and her pigtails flew. “No, Mama. Trees fell down around us and everything, but Jesus and Brother Travis kept us safe. Isn’t that right, Brother Travis?” Lydia Anne peered up at him.
“It was all Jesus,” Brother Travis said. “I was too scared to do anything but pray.” He smiled at Zack. “Have you told your mama the good news?”
“Yes, sir,” Zack said. “I told her I was living for Jesus now, and I was sorry.” He shrugged. “Guess I’m the prodigal son.”
Bonnie swallowed to keep from crying.
“Is everyone else safe?” Brother Travis said.
Reality shook Bonnie hard. “Two of my men are missing. Thomas and two of the others are looking for them.”
“I saw Thomas along the road,” Travis said.
“They were out looking for stray cattle. I didn’t see how wide the twister’s path was to know if they escaped.”
“Wide,” Brother Travis said. “But if we found shelter, then perhaps your men did, too.”
“Looks like the bunkhouse is in bad shape,” Zack said. “Brother Travis, you and me—I mean you and I—may have a little work to do.”
“We could do that.” Lines etched Brother Travis’s face. Later she’d ask him what happened during the twister, but for now, it was enough to know that her children were safe and unharmed.
Juanita pointed toward the southwest. “Riders come.”
Shortly thereafter, Thomas brought in Zack and Travis’s missing horses. Behind Thomas, a man was thrown across another horse. Travis hurried toward them. After entrusting the children to Juanita’s care, Bonnie quickly followed.
“Don’t come any closer, Miss Bonnie,” Thomas said. “It’s Roy, and he didn’t make it.”
She gasped. “Are you sure? We can fetch Grant.”
“It’s no use,” Brother Travis said.
She took another step. They could be wrong. Roy could be unconscious.
“I don’t want you to see him,” Brother Travis said. “He’s not recognizable.”
She covered her mouth. Roy dead! “I don’t think he had any family from around here. His parents were slaves from Mississippi.” She peered into Thomas’s face. “Do you know of anyone we can contact?”
“Roy never talked of family. I’ll wrap him in a blanket and take him into town to the undertaker. Should I take up a collection for the burial?”
“I’ll take care of it, and I want to put up a nice gravestone for him at the cemetery,” Bonnie said. “If anyone objects, then we’ll bury him here on the ranch.”
“I should ride along,” Brother Travis said.
“No need as long as you can give me a time for the funeral,” Thomas said.
“Tomorrow afternoon at one,” Brother Travis said. “I hope he’s the only one.”
“Haven’t found Lance yet,” Thomas said.
“The twister moved south, away from town, unless it changed directions,” Brother Travis said.
“Once Lance is found, I can send a few of the hands to check on neighboring folks.” Thomas turned his attention to Bonnie. “Is that all right?”
“Of course, and if anyone is in need, send them here.” Bonnie stared up into Thomas’s face. What if he’d been taken? What if her brothers were no longer there to raise their families? What if Mama and the reverend had been caught in the twister’s path? What if all that she held dear had been seized and destroyed by the twister’s power?
You could go on, Bonnie. I’m with you.
She understood what the voice meant. He’d spoken to her continually since she’d destroyed the bottle of wine. Not only was she an Andrews, but more importantly, she was a child of God. She’d take each day as it came—the good and the ugly, the moments of strength and