Patricia Davids - Shelter From The Storm

Jesse dropped to his knees and bowed his head. Fear sent a surge of adrenaline through her aching body. “Jesse, are you okay? Where are we?”

He looked back at her, but his face was in the shadows and she couldn’t read his expression. “We’re lost.”

Jesse couldn’t believe what lay in front of him. Not safety but desolation. The ruins of a second building were nothing more than odd blackened timbers sticking upright through the snow. A pond sat frozen and silent at the bottom of the clearing. A dead cedar tree stood between the house and the pond. There were no signs of life anywhere. He didn’t bother calling out.

Somehow, he had made a horrible mistake. He had no idea where he had taken a wrong turn. It was his fault and his alone. He’d been in such a hurry to get back to New Covenant that he’d left his good sense behind. They should have stayed with the truck. They might have been rescued by now.

He wouldn’t be at the auction in the morning. The land he’d hoped to buy would go to someone else. Now he was lost in the wilderness and, worst of all, he’d brought Gemma with him into this dangerous situation. He sank to his heels as the magnitude of what he had done overwhelmed him and bowed his head.

Please, Lord, give me the strength to overcome this disaster. Help me keep Gemma safe.

He repeated the phrase over and over in his mind, searching for the solace he needed. “Jesse, you have to get up.”

It wasn’t the voice of his heavenly Father, but rather the voice of the little sparrow on the sled. If she had once thought him as dense as a post, he had certainly proved her right. His bold assertion that he could get them back to the highway was nothing but an empty promise.

He looked at her over his shoulder. Would she forgive him for putting her life in danger? “I’m sorry, Gemma. I don’t know where I went wrong.”

“That doesn’t matter, Jesse. We need shelter. We need a fire.” She could barely talk because her teeth were chattering so badly.

She was right. Now wasn’t the time for remorse and self-pity. He struggled to his feet and pulled the sled toward the cabin. The snow had drifted as high as the front porch. The structure blocked the wind from the north. He stepped onto the floorboards carefully. They seemed solid enough. He slipped out of his harness and pulled open the front door. It scraped along the floor but opened wide enough for him to get inside.

It was too dark to see much. The smell of charred wood filled his nostrils, but the ceiling seemed intact and the interior was free of snow. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he saw a stone fireplace dominated the center of the space. It was a double-sided type open to two separate rooms. The cabin would provide the shelter they needed if he could get a fire going.

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