Francine Rivers - Her Daughter’s Dream

Jason had leave before reporting in at Fort Bragg. So they took the scenic route, wanting to see more of the country on the way. They spent nights in St. Louis, Nashville, and Chattanooga. After the flatlands and wind of Fort Sill and the low hills and bluffs of Fort Leonard Wood, Dawn drank in the beauty of the Great Smoky Mountains. They took their time driving the Blue Ridge Parkway, stopping at overlooks, snapping pictures of one another, and staying two nights in a bed-and-breakfast. Fall had come with a burst of reds, oranges, and yellows among the myriad evergreens.

Fort Bragg wasn’t like little Fort Lost in the Woods. It had over 170,000 inhabitants, schools, churches, hospitals, golf courses, bowling alleys, and theaters. It even had a mall! While Jason worked, Dawn drove around, getting acclimated to her new surroundings. When the Sable broke down, Jason decided it was time to sell it and buy another car. Dawn spotted a van and said it would come in handy when she started going to garage and estate sales. Jason took it for a test drive, had a mechanic look it over, and made an offer. After a few months, with things so spread out, Jason decided they both needed transportation and bought a used GMC Jimmy. Dawn teased him about his “cheap jeep.”

Their new house was twice the size of the last.

Uninspired, she made a replica of their last master bedroom, turned another into an office, and left the door of the last bedroom closed. The living room looked bare and uninteresting. She needed to find one piece of something to inspire her, so she drove eighty miles up to Raleigh to see an art sale. Within the first hour, she found what she needed to fire her imagination: an oil-painted reproduction of John William Waterhouse’s Knight . The handsome young man in full armor sat on a stone wall, his sword set aside, a beautiful red-haired lady kneeling at his feet with her hand over his and an expression of adoration.

“You like that, huh?” The vendor, an old man with thinning gray hair and one arm missing, said he had worked twenty years for a museum in New York, painting reproductions of various masters.

“It’s gorgeous.” She could see the whole living room coming together around it.

He wanted three hundred dollars for the painting. Dawn’s heart sank. He might as well have asked for a million. Dawn smiled with regret, told him it was worth that and more. Unfortunately a knight’s wife couldn’t afford it.

She searched for two more hours and came up empty-handed. She had to get home so she’d be in time to fix dinner.

“Milady,” the old vendor called to her as she came abreast of his booth. “I still have it.”

Surprised, she walked over. “No offers at all?”

“Oh, I had offers, but none that made me want to hand it over. I took a lot of time on this one. It’s special.” The old man propped it up so she had to look at it again. “Is your husband as handsome as the knight?”

Dawn studied the painting and smiled. “As handsome as that knight is, mine is more so. Thanks for letting me look at it again. I know you’ll find the right buyer.” She started to walk away.

He called after her. “Where would you hang it if you could afford it?”

She turned and looked at him. “In the living room, of course, where everyone would see it first thing when they walked in. And I’d tell everyone who did the reproduction, if he gave me his card.”

“Well, that’s a whole lot better than having it hang in a guest room.” He wagged his fingers at her. “Give me whatever you’ve got before I change my mind. Okay, okay. Calm down. You’re welcome. I’ll even wrap it for you.”

Dawn drove home, singing praise songs. She couldn’t wait to get started!

Jason noticed the painting when he walked in the door. He stood in the living room staring at it. Dawn slipped her arm through his. “Romantic, isn’t it?”

He grinned at her. “I can hardly wait to see what you do with the rest of the place.”

A laugh bubbled out of her. “A man’s home should be his castle. Don’t you think?”

He pulled her close. “It’s good to hear you laugh again, Dawn.”

They both knew why she hadn’t.

1997

They’d been stationed at Fort Bragg six months when Dawn took a home pregnancy test. She hadn’t mentioned the morning sickness. She didn’t want to get Jason’s hopes up or worry him. When she checked the test results, joy flooded her. Fear quickly followed. She saw it in Jason’s eyes, too, when she told him the news.

He pulled her close. “If you are pregnant, you’re quitting work. We’re not taking any chances.”

She’d already decided that. Two ladies from her Wednesday Bible study had offered to pay her to help decorate their houses, so they could easily do without her part-time nursing income.

Jason held her hand tightly in the examining room as the nurse practitioner moved the monitor over Dawn’s abdomen. They both heard the baby’s heartbeat at the same time. Jason frowned. “It’s so fast.” The nurse and Dawn smiled and assured him it should be.

Jason wanted to call their families that night, but Dawn asked him to wait. He asked why. “I don’t know, Jason. I just… I don’t know.” She couldn’t dispel the feeling something might go wrong.

At five months, Jason insisted. “You’re fine. You haven’t been sick for two months. The baby is growing. So are you!”

Dawn gave in.

Georgia and Granny were ecstatic. So were Christopher and Mitch. When Mom came on the phone, Dawn poured out her fears. Mom didn’t dismiss them. “I’ll pray for you, May Flower Dawn.” Dawn knew it wasn’t a platitude.

Granny called every few days to check on her. Dawn called Mom and did most of the talking.

At six months, Dawn sensed something wrong. The flutters had stopped. Rather than wait for her scheduled checkup, she called the doctor. Jason went with her. The stethoscope felt ice-cold on her abdomen. The doctor moved it several times, listening intently. His expression became increasingly grim. Jason stroked her shoulders. “It’s going to be okay,” he said again and again, like a litany of prayer.

When the doctor straightened, Dawn held her breath. “I’m sorry.” He looked at Jason first, then Dawn. “There’s no heartbeat.”

Jason stood silent, his hands gripping her shoulders. He looked down at her, love and tears spilling from his eyes. “It’s going to be okay, Dawn.”

She sobbed. They both knew nothing was okay.

The doctor admitted Dawn to the hospital and induced labor. Dawn gave birth to a perfectly formed little boy who weighed just under two pounds.

It would take longer to get over the loss this time.

Jason took Dawn home to California for Christmas. They spent the first few nights with Georgia, Christmas Eve and Day with Mom, Mitch, and Christopher, home on break from his first year at Stanford.

Granny came in from Jenner, but kept pressing them to come out and stay with her on the coast. Approaching her eighty-first birthday, she had aged. Her hair was almost completely gray now, and she bore signs of osteoporosis. Mom, who had turned fifty last spring, still wore long, colorful tiered skirts and tunics with leather belts. Her hair had streaks of silver. Mom still didn’t ask for Granny’s help, and Granny no longer offered. Dawn could see the rift had widened. Granny talked to Dawn and spared some attention for Jason, Mitch, and Christopher. Mom listened from the kitchen.

No one talked about the baby, though Dawn knew her stillborn son was on everyone’s mind. Christopher sat beside her on the couch and took her hand. He had grown six inches since she last saw him. He called her his little-big sister now. He had Mitch’s dark red hair and their mother’s blue eyes. “You’re turning into a hunk, Chris.”