"I haven't seen her since I got home. And Buster's gone."

"That doesn't make sense. I'll be right over."

While waiting for Alex, Josh walked through the house again, checking every room and calling Beth's name.

Nothing.

"Did you notice any tracks in the snow when you came home?" Alex asked, rushing through the back door.

"I didn't really look, but . . . no. I didn't."

"Surely she wouldn't have taken Buster for a walk. Not in this weather." Alex peered out the front window. "Her car is still here."

"I'm worried." Josh stepped to the hall closet, put on his heaviest jacket, and pulled on his gloves. "The weather is too bad for her to be outside. But I don't know where else she could be."

"Maybe at a neighbor's house?"

"Not likely. But I'll check." He opened the front door. "You stay here in case she calls."

"Will do." Alex picked up the cell phone from the sofa table. "Look, it's Beth's phone." A worried look crossed her face.

"Stay here anyway. Someone needs to stay at the house. If she shows up, call my phone." He patted his jacket pocket. "I've got it with me."

"Okay. I'll be right here."

Josh walked from door to door, and up and down the street. Few of their neighbors were home. Those who were said they hadn't seen Beth or Buster. He looked around, uncertain about what to do next. He prayed she was somewhere safe, and that he could scold her later for being so unthinking as not to tell him where she'd gone.

The temperature had dropped considerably since he had come home. A light sleet was now falling, making it harder to walk on the ice-crusted surface of the snow. If she was outside, she could freeze to death in no time.

He had to do something. But what? He took his phone from his pocket and started to dial the emergency code. Then he remembered what he had always been told: that the police wouldn't take action on a missing person unless they had been gone for more than twenty-four hours.

Josh put the phone back in his pocket and called Beth's name. Then Buster's.

No answer.

He heard only the icy tic-tic-tic of the sleet hitting the ground and the crunch of the snow underneath his feet as he picked his way through the neighborhood.

Josh detoured from the sidewalk into yards and vacant lots, looking behind every bush and around every fence. He continued to shout. "Beth! Buster, here boy. Beth-a-ny."

Only silence and fear responded.

Beth pulled Buster close to her. If she had anything to be thankful for, it was that she had fallen next to the old, wooden fence, which helped to shelter her from the wind. The temperature was cold, but the wind chill was agonizing. The fence also helped to block the icy rain that had begun to fall.

She rubbed her swollen ankle. When she tried to move, the pain proved almost intolerable. All she could do was wait. And hope that Alex or Josh would find her soon. She wasn't that far from home. Although, she reasoned, she might as well be in Antarctica, if they didn't know to look for her.

The number of cars passing on the street several yards behind her had diminished since darkness set in. By listening to the thump-thump of the tires, she could decipher that the state of the road was bad.

What if Josh hadn't been able to get home? If not, Alex would have no way of knowing that Beth had left the house-until tomorrow.

She shouted for someone's attention, but the wind carried her voice into the darkness without a response.

Fear seized her heart. How long did it take to freeze to death?

Lord, please don't take my baby and me.

The words surprised her. Until now, her brush with heaven almost four months ago had anesthetized her from this world.

Josh had been right all along. She hadn't been thinking straight.

Heaven had seemed incomparable to any kind of life on earth, especially one where she had to face the problems she had created for herself. She had been hiding her guilt behind the painkillers and her illness. And she had let her relationship with Josh deteriorate.

Nothing had held her here until now, when death threatened again and she realized that she and her child were in this together. The bond between them could not have become more real than at that moment. They were fighting for life together.

A frozen tear lodged in Beth's eye.

Dear God, was that a kick from my baby?

It was the first time she had felt the child growing inside her womb.

She had to get them out of here alive.

Buster wiggled next to her.

"Be still, boy. We need to hang close if we're going to make it through this."

The little dog looked up to her, his black-brown eyes conveying perfect love. Love without fear. Love that rested on trust.

He cocked his head.

"What is it?" Beth asked, and then she, too, heard something. Her hopes rose, and she listened.

There it was again, but it was just the wind howling through the rickety, old fence.

"Bethany. . . . Beth. Can you hear me?"

Josh had wandered for twenty minutes, not sure where to go or what to do. He dialed Alex as he continued to walk.

"Any word?" She answered.

"Nothing. Can you call a few people from the church and ask them to come over and help me search?"

"I already have. A half dozen or so are on their way, but the roads are near impassable. It will take a while."

"Thanks. . . ." Disappointment lodged in his gut.

"What else can I do?"

"Pray. Just pray."

"I'm already doing that." Her voice cracked. Not what Josh needed to hear right now. Alex was always the optimistic one in the group.

He hung up the phone and exhaled, his warm breath turning to steam. Guilt stabbed him in the chest. What if he was too late?

He had so many things to tell Beth. First, that he loved her but also that he would stand with her through the trials and the pain she had been facing alone.

Oh, God. Please let me tell her I'm sorry for the words I said in anger.

His throat now hurt from the constant shouting, but he kept it up.

"Bethany, where are you?" He drew out the words. "Hello . . . Bethany. Please answer me. I know you're-"

"Josh, I'm here!"

It was Beth. But where?

"Where are you?" He called to her, looked frantically around, and listened.

"Next to the old fence."

Buster barked, and he saw the little dog running toward him, shaking his nub of a tail. Josh grabbed him up and retraced the tracks he had left in the snow. Then he saw Beth curled up on the ground.

"Josh, honey." Her cries were a mixture of tears and relief.

He released the terrier and ran to his wife's side, wanting to grab her into his arms and hold her forever. He took her hand in his, trying to assist her in standing.

"No," she said. "I can't do it. My ankle is hurt, bad."

Josh looked around to get his bearings. They weren't far from the street behind them.

"Okay. I'll have Alex bring the car." He reached into his pocket for his cell phone. "Are you okay otherwise?"

"Cold," she said. Her face looked taut from the abuse of the freezing wind and chilling temperatures.

He took off his jacket and covered her with it. Then he called Alex to explain where they were. "Drive my Jeep," he said. "The keys are on the sofa table."

A few minutes later, Alex found them. Josh picked Beth up and carried her to the car. He helped her into the back seat and lifted Buster up beside her.

Beth clutched his jacket closer to her body. "The heat feels good."

Buster crawled closer to her and whined.

"You did a good job, Mr. B." Josh patted the little dog on the head.

"Well, actually it's his fault," Beth said. "But I forgive him. He stayed with me when I fell."

Josh put his arms around her shoulder. "I hope you can forgive me too."

"For what?"

"For everything. I've been a jerk lately."

Beth started to protest, but he stopped her.

"No. I want to say this now. I was so afraid I wouldn't have the chance." He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry for being so insensitive to you about the abortion. I'm glad you had the confidence in me to tell me about it. I'm just sorry I didn't have the maturity to handle it. I hope you will forgive me."

"Of course." She reached out to touch his face with her hand and shivered.

"We're going straight to the hospital," Josh told Alex as she slid into the driver's seat.

"No," Beth protested.

"I'm sorry," Josh insisted. "I'm not taking any chances. We'll drop Alex and Buster off at the house on the way."

Beth was the first to notice Ben Abrams as they wheeled her from the emergency room triage.

"Hi, doctor," she said, embarrassed to see him.

"Baking cookies again, Bethany?"

She grinned. "No, sir. Chasing the dog this time."

He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. "Mind if I take a look at you for good measure?"

"Not at all."

"We're glad you're here," Josh said. "I was concerned she might have set herself back. You know, with her dissected artery."

"It's doubtful," Dr. Abrams told him. "But you did the right thing, bringing her in."

After a thorough exam, he pronounced his patient to be in excellent condition, considering her circumstances. "Don't I see you again in the next few weeks?"

"Yes, I believe so," Bethany nodded.

"Great. We'll hope for a better scan this time."

28.

Present Day Beth wasn't sure if she could carry it off, but she was determined to cook Josh's favorite meal as a surprise for his thirtieth birthday. She had been banned from the kitchen since the green-apple fiasco, and she still walked with a slight limp from her sprained ankle a few weeks ago. But with a bit of advance assistance from Alex, she should be able to fry the meat and finish the rest of the meal on her own.

Cut-up pieces of chicken had been marinating in buttermilk since last night, just like Rose Harrison had taught Beth to do. Alex had peeled and cut up the potatoes and left them to soak in cold water in the refrigerator. Beth would cook and mash them this evening. That left only making biscuits, warming up corn, and stirring up gravy. Beth could stir up chicken gravy in her sleep. She had fixed it many times at her husband's request.