Where Heaven Begins - By Bittner Page 0,89

once that it’s important to drink a lot of water when you’re fevered.” She lifted the blanket to see his eyes closed. “Clint? Can you hear me?”

He grasped her hand and squeezed it.

Elizabeth’s heart pounded so hard with fear for his life that her chest hurt. She turned and grabbed hold of his rifle, which he always kept nearby, and hurried to the front of the raft, using the gun to push at the log that had snagged them, shoving the raft back out into the current enough that it again began flowing toward their destination. She laid the rifle aside and hurried back to the rudder handle and began steering the raft to keep it in deeper waters, surprised at what a hard job it was to keep it steady.

“You have to help me, Lord,” she prayed aloud. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to keep this up.” She was weak from hunger and exposure, but now they were so close. And she had to get Clint to some kind of help. What a horrible ending it would be to their long, hard journey if he died before they reached Dawson!

“Don’t let this happen, Lord Jesus,” she prayed. “Don’t let me lose him now! I know You want him, but please take him in life, through his faith! Not in death!”

She wiped at tears that made it hard to see. She had to concentrate. If God saw fit to bring them another night brightly lit from aurora borealis, she would not stop. Maybe she could save another half day of rafting and finally get this trip over with if she traveled through the night.

She wrapped both arms around the rudder handle and held it against her side in order to keep a firm hold.

“Don’t let him die! Don’t let him die!” she whispered over and over in prayer.

She noticed Clint reach over and take hold of the canteen. He managed to sit up and drink some water, then corked the canteen and collapsed back down to the bean sack, pulling the blanket over his head again. For the next many hours, Clint’s taking a drink once in a while was Elizabeth’s only way of knowing he was still alive.

She continued her struggle to keep the raft on its course in the surprisingly strong current that wanted to send it right and left and sometimes seemed to want to make it whirl in a circle. Only now did she realize how hard it must have been for Clint to do this in his condition.

She shivered against the stinging cold, dreaming about the warmth of a fireplace and a real bed, hot food and hot coffee, or better yet, hot chocolate. Her mother used to make the most wonderful hot chocolate.

Through darkness she kept going, and indeed, God led the way with a brightly lit sky that made it possible to see what was ahead of her. Where she found the strength, how she managed to keep going all night long, she could not explain, other than to say that God surely had His hand on the rudder handle or was pushing the raft along with His own hand.

At dawn the raft rounded a bend and she spied smoke rising from a few chimneys.

Dawson!

“Clint! We’re here! We’re here!” She nearly screamed the words. “It’s Dawson! We made it!” Tears of joy streamed down her cheeks. “Thank you, Jesus! Thank you!”

She left the rudder handle long enough to kneel beside Clint. “Clint, we’re here! You’ll be all right!”

His eyes were closed. He gave no reply. Elizabeth realized then that for the last few hours he’d not reached for the canteen, nor had he even coughed. The only sign that he was still alive was the warmth of his fevered face.

Chapter Forty-Two

O, give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good: for his mercy endureth forever.

—Psalms 107:1

Elizabeth steered the raft toward the only open spot she could find along Dawson’s shore, which was packed with boats both large and small. Most of them appeared to be abandoned, most likely by men who no longer cared about the vessels that had brought them here. Many must already be headed into the mountains, in spite of the dire winter that lay waiting for them there.

Still, a good many settlers were right here in Dawson, from what she could see. The little town lay sprawled over several acres and was made up mostly of tents and log buildings. Horses were tied or grazing here and

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