Who Brings Forth the Wind (Kensington Chronicles) (26 page)

well that this was the foundation of all she believed The

sooner Drew understood, the sooner he could make his own

decision and commit himself to Christ. Stacy prayed for his

belief every day as she did for her grandfather's and everyone!

else's at Morgan.

She also prayed for Tanner. She asked God to prepare his

heart for acceptance. Stacy was beginning to believe that she

would never see him again, but still she prayed. Each and every

time she considered writing about Drew, she knew it would be

a mistake. But at some point Stacy knew she needed to explain

to Tanner about what had happened to her concerning Jesus

Christ.

Tanner had always been cynical about things concerning

the church, something that had never bothered Stacy before

to any great degree, but now it made her fearful of how he

would respond to her beliefs. "Religious fanatic" was sure to

be the nicest thing he would have to say.

The thought gave Stacy no peace, and she wrestled inside

of herself often as she tried to give her husband to the Lord At

times she would lie in bed and dream about their first weeks

together, when he made her feel treasured and cherished

Stacy ached for her husband's love, but knowing how godless

their life had been cast something of a damper on her memories.

Tonight as Drew fell asleep, Stacy remained by his bed and

let herself remember. After a time she prayed.

"Please save Tanner, Father, and bring us back together. I

know You love him, and I believe You would want us to raise

Drew together. How long do I wait, Lord? He never acknowledges

my letters, I know unless he sees him, Tanner will never

believe Drew is his son, but You can work this out, Lord. You

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move in hearts and lives so that Your will is done and You

glorified."

The day ended, but Stacy's faith and hope did not. Days

id weeks passed. She continued to pray, committing her life

ad loved ones to God. But time moved on, and before Stacy's

_/es she watched her son blossom toward his third year. At the

Lame time, she watched her grandfather wither as he approached

his last.

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drew

galloped along beside his mother on the way to the

pond, pausing now and then to inspect a stone or watch a bird.

It took some time, but eventually he turned and noticed that

Peters was not following with his grandfather.

"Where's Grandpapa?"

Andrew had not fished with them for several weeks, but

Drew still asked after him every time they went.

"He wanted to rest today." Stacy's line was becoming

standard. "We can go to his room as soon as we're done,

however, and show him our catch."

Drew seemed content enough with this, and Stacy was

glad when he did not chatter on. Her grandfather's ill health

was a source of great concern for her these days, and some

quiet hours at the pond were just what she needed. However,

Drew had other ideas. He was quiet only until he remembered

the special event of the next day.

"Are we going to have cake?"

Stacy smiled. He knew they were because Mercy had

talked of nothing else for days, but she answered him anyway.

"Yes, we're having cake."

"And surprises?"

"Surprises too."

"When?"

"Oh, maybe a little bit all day."

"I'll be two."

"No, you're two now. Tomorrow you'll be three."

"Please show me the fingers."

Stacy placed her pole on the ground and used both of her

hands to carefully position Drew's tiny fingers until three

stood in the air.

"This is three," he stated

"That's right. Tomorrow you'll be three."

"How old are you?" the small boy suddenly asked

'Very old," Stacy told him with a twinkle in her eye.

"Two hundred?"

Stacy laughed and grabbed for him. She tickled him and

laughed at his small giggles until they both lay spent on the

ground. After just a moment Drew heaved a great sigh and sat

up in order to peer down into his mother's face.

"I love you, Mumma."

"I love you, Andrew."

"I'm Drew."

"I love you, Drew."

The little boy smiled, and Stacy smiled in return. They

didn't fish again for a time because Drew wanted to hear a

story. Stacy told him all about Noah and the ark God told him

to build. Before Stacy could finish naming the animals that

came two by two, her almost three-year-old had fallen asleep

in her arms.

"It's a train, Grandpapa! Look at it, look at it."

Drew shoved his favorite birthday present into his greatgrandfather's

hands and waited for him to respond. They

were sitting around the fire in the main salon, for Morgan was

cold until midsummer.

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j

"Well, now," Andrew spoke with proper seriousness. "An! engine. Who's going to drive this fine train?"

"Me," Drew nearly shouted and proceeded to make the

sound of a train so his great-grandfather would be convinced

"And who will you take on your train?"

"Mumma and Mercy and Hettie and Peters."

"What about Grandpapa?" his mother wanted to know.

"Oh, yes!" Drew shouted as he climbed into the old man's ,

lap, never seeing his grimace of pain. "Grandpapa will be up J

in the engine with me, won't you, Grandpapa?"

"Of course I will." Andrew's voice sounded strong, the

only thing that kept Stacy from removing her son from his lap.

Drew was not a tiny child any longer, and Stacy knew how frail

her grandfather's legs had become. His color was better today,

however, and Stacy took that as a sign of hope. Just four nights

past he'd labored for breath for several hours. They had

thought it the end

"What else did you receive?" Andrew asked of Drew.

The child named a few items, but his concentration was on

his train and he didn't really answer. Believing that respect

was important, Stacy would have said something, but her

grandfather looked so content to have Drew now leaning

against him and playing with his train that she went ahead and

told him herself.

"He received a pair of long britches from Hettie. They're

dark brown and fit him perfectly. A red flannel shin came

from Mercy. It's trimmed with brown cord and looks wonderful

with the trousers. Peters gave him a wooden whistle, and

Noel, Elena, and the children gave him the train. The train is

red with black wheels and trim and printed on the side are the

words 'London and Birmingham.' I bought him a new comb,

and I knitted him an afghan for his bed. It's every shade of

green and quite large--wide enough to cover his entire bed."

This said, Stacy placed the edge of the blanket in her

grandfather's lap so he could feel the weave. Drew had moved

to the floor, so Andrew took a moment to handle the blanket.

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'Very soft," he approved. "You always do nice work."

"I'm glad you think so, because I'm working on one for

[you."

"Do I have to wait for my birthday?"

"No. I'm over half done; you should have it sooner than

that."

Andrew nodded. "Drew?" he spoke softly.

"Yes, Grandpapa?"

"Come up here a minute. I want to give you my present."

The word present was enough to shift Drew in a hurry. He

put his train aside, and by the time he stood before Andrew he

was squirming with excitement.

"This gift belonged to me when I was just your age. I'm

going to give it to you, and I want you to take very good care of

it. Do you promise?"

"Yes, Grandpapa."

(Stacy had no idea what the gift would be, and both she and

Drew grinned in delight when Peters suddenly appeared with

a child's wooden rocking chair.

"Oh, Mumma," Drew exclaimed "It's for me!" With that he

plopped his small bottom into the seat and began to rock. His

mother's voice came to him very softly, but with warning.

"Andrew."

"Oh," he jumped from the chair and moved to Andrew.

"Thank you, Grandpapa. Thank you for the rocking chair."

"You're welcome. Does it fit you?"

"I fit," he told him and sat back down to prove it, even

though the old man couldn't see.

Watching her grandfather, Stacy felt something tug inside

of her. He suddenly looked older and more tired than Stacy

had ever seen him, but there was also a contentment about

him. Stacy wondered if maybe the rocking chair had been

quite special to him and giving it to Drew, his only greatgrandchild,

was more significant than any of them realized

"I believe I'll rest now," Andrew told them and stood to go.

Drew hugged his legs before he got away, and Peters began to

lead him from the room.

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"I'll bring you a tray later," Stacy called to him.

"All right," he said and kept walking. Stacy watched,

unable to decide if he was moving more stiffly or not. She

prayed then as she always did that he would understand his

need for Christ while there was still time. Her prayers had

been increasing lately and held a special urgency. It seemed

clear that Andrew's time with them was coming to an end

Two days later, in the middle of the night, Peters wakened

Stacy from sleep. She had been dreaming about Tanner and

Drew, and her first thought was for her small son.

"Is it Drew?"|

"No, Stacy. Your grandfather is asking for you. He's having j

trouble breathing again."

Stacy's wrapper went around her as she ran, and within

seconds she was at her grandfather's bedside.

"I'm here, Papa," Stacy said and watched his eyes open.

She knew the lamplight made no difference to him, so she

turned the wick higher in order to see him.

"Stacy" was all he said before staring sightlessly in her

direction.

"I'm here, Papa. Don't try to talk."

The old man's eyes closed, his breathing labored on.

Stacy's own breath came in gasps as she realized he might be

slipping away before her eyes. Suddenly his eyes opened

"I need to tell you something." Please

don't try to talk," Stacy begged him, thinking he

needed to conserve his strength.

"I talked to God, Stacy. For the first time, I really talked to

God. I've lived my life for myself, but when I almost died last

week, I knew I wasn't ready to meet Him. I think I took care of

it, but tell me again, Stacy. Tell me how you come to God"

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Stacy's voice shook with emotion and she didn't know how

she would speak, but the words came. "The Bible says believe

on the Lord Jesus Christ and you will be saved, Papa. I simply

told God that I need to be saved from my sins and that I

believed His Son could save me. I asked Him to be the Lord of