The Fiddler's Secret (21 page)

I think I finally understand
, she told herself at last.
Even if things aren't perfect, God can work to bring something good
.

When Libby began weeping, she couldn't stop. Hugging the Bible to herself, she repeated the words to which her mother had clung.

As Libby finally wiped the tears from her eyes, there was something she knew.
I can't make grown-ups do something just because I want it. But I already have a never-give-up family—with or without Annika
.

Pa and Caleb and Gran
, Libby thought.
Peter
.

A smile flitted across her face.
Even Samson and Wellington
.

Right from the start, Pa had talked about their family being one that would stick together no matter what happened.
It's like belonging to God
, Libby thought, filled with awe.
With God I belong to a never-give-up family. He never gives up on me
.

In that moment Libby began to trust God to take care of Annika. To believe that God could bring something good.

As she lifted her head, she heard a knock on the door.

“Libby!” Caleb called. “Are you all right?”

Still clutching the Bible, Libby opened the door. Caleb's gaze searched her face.

“I'm all right now,” she answered. “Just a minute.” Returning to Pa's rocker, Libby picked up the silk scarf and wrapped her mother's Bible. Gently she set it inside the drawer until she could read it again.

Out on the deck, Caleb studied her face. “Are you sure you're all right?”

Libby nodded. At first she was afraid to tell him what had happened. Then she knew how much she needed to talk.

“Pa gave me my mother's Bible,” Libby said.

As Caleb waited, she made herself go on. “I found Romans 8:28 and something Ma wrote about me. Even though she was dying, she asked God to bring something good out of it.”

Once again tears welled up in Libby's eyes. “I'm not very strong, am I? Do you think I'll ever learn to trust God when it's really hard?”

Caleb's gaze met hers. For a moment he looked away, as though unable to say what he thought. Then he seemed to know how much it had cost her to be honest. “You'll learn,
Libby. You've changed already. You aren't the same girl who came to live on the
Christina
.”

Libby smiled. It was the highest praise Caleb could give her.

Only then did Libby realize that the
Christina
had tied up at Savanna, a small settlement along the river. Near shore, the ground was flat and the buildings not far from the water. Behind the town, limestone bluffs stood tall, rising straight up as if reaching for the sky.

“Peter says he wants to be an explorer, so why don't we take him exploring?” Caleb asked. “Maybe you need some fun too.”

The September sun was warm, the air crisp, and the sky bright blue. The idea of being out in that kind of weather made Libby feel good all over.

Then Caleb told her, “Your pa has business that will keep him here for three or four hours. He said it's okay if we hike up the bluff.”

“To the top?” Libby felt weak just thinking about it.
Has Caleb forgotten my fear of heights?

“Remember the view at Hannibal?” he asked. “I'll show you another great view. You'll see up and down the river for miles.”

It was always fun being with Caleb, but Libby still felt afraid. Caleb seemed to guess her thoughts.

“You'll like it, Libby. Really you will.”

As he filled his knapsack, Libby watched. A coil of rope. An extra shirt. Two light jackets. Strips of cloth rolled for bandages.

“Get a sweater, and I'll carry it for you,” Caleb told her.

When Libby returned with the sweater, Caleb stuffed it inside his knapsack. Already he had filled three canteens of
water. In a leather case attached to his belt he put a sharp knife.

“What's that for?” Libby asked.

Caleb shrugged. “The unexpected. That's the way your pa trained me. ‘Be ready for the worst,' he always says. ‘Be glad if you don't need it.'”

The worst?
Libby wondered. Afraid she would sound like a scaredy-cat, she didn't ask what that meant.
A bear? A wolf?

CHAPTER 16

C
aleb closed his knapsack. “We'll pick up sandwiches from Gran. As soon as we find Peter, we can go.” The ten-year-old was on the main deck. When Caleb pointed to himself, Libby, and the bluff, Peter understood. Caleb settled the knapsack on his own back, and the three of them set out at once.

At first the climb was easy, and they passed quickly between the few trees left on the lower hillside. Steamboat crews had cut off huge areas of timber to feed the hungry furnaces that heated water in the boilers. When Caleb came to an area of long grass, he stopped them.

“Keep your eyes open,” he warned them. “Watch where you step.” Taking the slate Peter carried, Caleb wrote, “Copperhead snakes.”

Libby swallowed hard. If Caleb wanted to show her a good view, she wanted to see it. But she didn't care to see a snake.

Peter's eyes widened. “Poisonous, you mean?”

Caleb nodded. Again he wrote. “Timber rattlesnakes too.”

“How will we know?” Peter asked.

“Listen for the rattle,” Caleb answered without thinking. “Back off if you hear it.”

A moment later Caleb muttered an “Uh-oh!” as if suddenly remembering Peter's deafness. Caleb took the slate again.

“Watch,” Caleb wrote and drew a rock with a coiled snake sitting on top of it, then another snake peering out of tall grass. Next to that he drew the tail of a snake with five or six rattles sticking up on the end.

Peter grinned, and his blue eyes lit up. “I'd like to see a rattler. I'd really be an explorer then.” The possibility of snakes didn't bother him at all, but even the thought filled Libby with dread.

When they started out again, Caleb took the lead, with Peter second and Libby third.

The bluff was steeper now, and Caleb led them in zigzag slants, changing direction often to take the easiest slope. Above the area where steamboat crews had cut, there were trees again. By now the muscles in Libby's legs ached from the steep climb, and she welcomed the shade.

Soon large masses of limestone broke through the soil. Climbing between boulders, they grabbed small trees and branches to pull themselves up. At last they came out at the top of the bluff.

As if offering a big gift, Caleb led Libby and Peter to a ledge overlooking the river. Far below them the river widened, stretching out to the western horizon. Both upstream and down Libby could see for miles. Best of all, she could see the
Christina
.

“Oh, look!” Peter exclaimed when he peered down on the steamboat. “See how long it is? How it shines in the sun? It's like a toy boat I used to have!”

Even from here Libby could see the tall smokestacks, the
white railings, the pilothouse perched on top. Peter was right. It did look like a toy small enough to push around in a springtime puddle. Instead, the
Christina
was surrounded by blue water sparkling in the sun.

Forgetting her fear of heights, Libby caught her breath at the beauty of it.

Peter was even more excited. “I feel like Lewis and Clark or Zebulon Pike, or one of the other explorers I learned about in school! We need to plant a flag up here!”

Far overhead, the sun had edged past its midpoint. Caleb took out sandwiches, and they sat down on the warm rock ledges to eat. Libby felt good. She had climbed to the top. She hadn't shamed herself by showing panic about the heights. Best of all, they had given Peter a good time.

When they started off again, Caleb led them with Peter not far behind. As the heels of Libby's shoes dug into the steep slope, limestone crumbled into small pieces. A rock broke away and tumbled down the bluff.

Caleb stopped. “Careful,” he warned. “Walk where I walk.”

When Caleb pointed to Peter's feet, then his own, Peter got the message. His grin told Libby this was the greatest adventure he'd ever had.

Farther on, the going was steep. Peter followed Caleb from one rock ledge to the next. Between the shelves, water had raced down the bluff, creating a path.

They had walked for a time when Caleb dropped behind a boulder. When he came into view farther on, Peter started taking a different way.

“Peter!” Libby called out. “Stay in Caleb's path!” Then Libby remembered Peter couldn't hear, and she hurried to warn him.
Before she could catch up, Libby heard a sound.

At first she thought it was steam escaping.
How can I hear the
Christina
so far away?

Like dry leaves blown before a wind, the sound came again. In that moment Libby knew. The whirring sound of a rattle.

“Peterrrr!” Libby screamed.

Caleb whirled around, his face white. Leaping from ledge to ledge, he raced back up the bluff.

Sliding on the loose stones of the washouts, Libby took the shortest way down. She had nearly caught up to Peter when she saw the wide ledge just below him. A large snake with black rings lay coiled, ready to spring. Tail up, it rattled again.

As Peter's foot came down on the ledge, the snake's head leaped out. Its fangs sank deep in Peter's leg.

Peter screamed. Looking down, he froze. Libby grabbed his arm and yanked him back. The snake slithered away. Moments later it disappeared beneath a rock ledge.

Caleb took one look at Peter's leg and caught him up in his arms. When Caleb laid him down in an open space, Peter moaned. “It stings! It stings!”

Kneeling on the ground beside him, Libby stared at Peter's leg. Puncture marks showed where the fangs of the rattlesnake had sunk into his flesh.

Caleb tore open his knapsack, pulled out strips of cloth, and layered them one on top of another. With quick, sure movements he tied the tourniquet around Peter's leg above the wound. Then he yanked the knife from his belt.

Lighting a match, Caleb ran the flame along the edges of the blade. A second and third time he lit matches, making sure the blade was clean.

“Hold his legs for me,” Caleb ordered as he knelt down opposite Libby. “You better pray at the same time.”

Already the flesh around the wound had started to swell and change color. As though to say, “Okay, Peter, get ready,” Caleb clasped his shoulder.

For an instant Caleb held the knife above the wound. Then he cut through the fang mark, opening the flesh.

Peter jerked. Libby's stomach turned over.

“Hold him again.” When Caleb cut open the second fang mark, Peter moaned. Paying no attention, Caleb bent over the wounds.

As Libby realized what he was going to do, she cried out, “Oh no! You'll die too!”

“Don't let go!” Caleb answered. “Hang on to him!” With his mouth on the first wound, Caleb sucked at the opening, turned his head, and spit out the blood.

Libby gagged. But Caleb bent down again, sucked at the second wound, and spit out the blood.