LITMIR.BIZ

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Crossing. It’s the Campbell girl’s Jeep. Is she babysitting your girls today?”

      * * *

      John ran to his truck and drove toward the pecan farm without a conscious thought. Fear and faith clashed in John’s brain. His phone started buzzing. Recalling the phone call about his wife’s accident, he froze. He stared at the unfamiliar number. If he didn’t answer he could stay ignorant of any bad news. He prayed with every fiber of his being for his girls’ safety.

      Why had they been in the babysitter’s car? They weren’t allowed to travel with anyone without his permission. Amy knew his rules. His mind numb and his knuckles gripping the steering wheel, John turned onto Highway 83.

      Faith would enable him to handle whatever waited for him. With a firm move, he accepted the call.

      “This is John.” His own voice sounded foreign.

      “Daddy?” a small tentative voice came over the line.

      Relief flooded his body, and his hands began to shake. John cleared his dry throat. “Hey, sweet girl. Are you okay?”

      “I’m...I’m a little scared, but Rachel told me not to be. The car is upside down. A deer ran into us. Ms. Amy and Rachel are in the ambulance. Rachel told me not to cry, and Lorrie Ann said everything’ll be okay.” She sniffled. “Daddy, please come get me.”

      Amy’s yellow Jeep came into view. He swallowed back the bile that rose from his stomach. Reality and memories tangled in his vision. Flashes of his wife’s crumbled silver Focus clouded his eyesight. The accident had been his fault. Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus on today.

      All four wheels faced the clear sky. The driver’s side was smashed against a cedar break. The trees had stopped the Jeep’s free fall into the river below. At the sight, his body stiffened; he could no longer feel his limbs.

      His two little girls had been in that jumbled piece of metal.

      John pulled his truck to an abrupt stop on the side of the highway, the loose gravel crunching under his tires. His gaze scanned the area.

      The trooper’s red and blue lights reflected over the people starting to mill around the crushed car. His six-year-old daughter sat on the front seat of a little BMW, her bare feet dangling in front of Lorrie Ann.

      His throat closed up, and for a minute, he couldn’t breathe. Thank You, God! Thank You!

      “I’m right behind you, baby. I’m here. I’m going to hang up now, okay?”

      His youngest daughter’s head whipped around, searching for him. Before his boots left the old truck, she had started running to him. In a few strides, he had her pulled up close against his heart.

      Her thin arms tightened around his neck, threatening to cut off his air. One hand cradled the back of her head; the other scooped up her bottom. Her legs wrapped around his torso.

      “Hey, monkey. It’s all right. I’m here. I’ve got you.” He whispered into her ear, taking in the smell of her apple shampoo. He closed his eyes and for a moment focused on her heartbeat. The warmth of her tiny body absorbed into his.

      Thank You, God.

      He opened his eyes and found Lorrie Ann staring up at him.

      “Hello again.” She reached out and patted Celeste’s back. “I was first on the scene. Amy and Rachel are with the EMTs. They’ll be fine—just a bit more banged up.” Her voice remained calm, and the softness in her eyes soothed him with the compassion he saw.

      He glanced to the open doors of the ambulance. Fear slammed its way through his gut. Celeste wiggled under his tightened grip. He closed his eyes, sent a quick prayer and relaxed his muscles.

      “You can take Celeste with you. I promise it’s not bad.” Her smile reassured him she understood his hesitation of taking Celeste to the ambulance.

      What she couldn’t see? The images flashing in his mind of his wife’s accident. He swallowed hard and pressed his lips against Celeste’s forehead. With another prayer, he hurried across the street to his oldest daughter while carting his six-year-old on his hip.

      “Rachel?” He poked his head around the door only to find Amy, his seventeen-year-old babysitter, on the stretcher. “Hello, Amy.”

      She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Pastor Levi, I’m so sorry. I know I wasn’t supposed to take them, but they wanted apples for the chicken salad. They said it was your favorite. I’m so sorry.”

      “I just want y’all to be safe.”

      From the far side, he heard voices.

      “Daddy? Are you there?” Ducking around the ambulance, he found Rachel. His stress lightened a bit at the sight of Brenda Castillo, in her blue EMT uniform, bent over his daughter’s leg.

      “Hello, Pastor John.” Brenda smiled at Rachel. “See, I told you he would get here before we left.”

      “Daddy, I’m so sorry.” Huge tears spilled out of her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

      His chest clenched at the sight. “Oh, princess, there’s nothing for you to apologize for. It was an accident.” He went to bend down, but with Celeste still in his arms, he almost lost his balance.

      “Here, let me help.” The soft voice surprised him.

      Lorrie Ann had followed them over. Before he could do anything, a pink zebra-print golf cart drew everyone’s attention as it charged onto the highway. Dust flew as the small woman, Margarita Schultz, set a determined course straight at them.

      “Aunt Maggie!” his daughters and Lorrie Ann yelled as one voice.

      The cart threw pebbles as it slid to a stop. Without slowing down, Maggie jumped from the seat. Short black-and-silver-streaked hair flew around her face. Large dark eyes flashed with worry as she hurried over. “What is going on here, mija? You scared me to death with that call, young lady.” She looked around, and her hand went to her chest. “Oh, no, Amy’s Jeep is...” She went to her heels beside Rachel. “Oh, mija, are you all right?” She glanced at Brenda and then to John. “Is she going to be all right?”

      “Her leg needs to be x-rayed.” Brenda spoke to John. “We have it stabilized. You can take Rachel to the hospital yourself. Steve and I are taking Amy to Uvalde.”

      Maggie turned back to John. “You take Rachel.” She put a hand out to rub the slim back of John’s youngest daughter. “We’ll take care of Celeste. You won’t feel right until you have Rachel all safe and sound. I’ll start the prayer chain.”

      “Are you sure, Maggie?” Torn, he pushed his daughter’s loose curls behind her ear, hesitating. “Maybe I should take Celeste with me.”

      “You don’t know how long you’ll be there. We’ll make sure she eats lunch. I’d get you something to eat, too, but I know you won’t touch a thing until you see for yourself Rachel is fine. So go on with you.”

      “Thank you, Maggie.” With a finger under her little pointed chin, John lifted his tiny daughter’s face up to his. “Do you want to stay with Aunt Maggie?”

      She nodded slowly and, to his surprise, reached for Lorrie Ann. Maggie’s niece extended her arms, pulling the little precious body from him. He reluctantly let her go.

      In truth, he wanted to hold on to her forever, but he needed to get to Rachel and focus on her. “Lorrie Ann, thanks for being here and staying with them.”

      “I’m glad I could help.”

      Her smile held him mesmerized for a moment, until he heard Maggie’s gasp. She had noticed the bruise under Lorrie Ann’s eye.

      “Were you hurt, too?”

      “No. It’s just a bump. Go on,” she said to him. “You need to get Rachel to the doctor.”

      As a pastor,

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