* * *
All the candles had either died down or been blown out by the time Nikki awoke hours later. Only the fire gave muted light to those sleeping along the walls of the cabin. She was disoriented at first. Then she remembered.
She felt for Hannah. The cold stiffness had returned, Nikki realized when she touched her. Her baby felt truly dead now. Inside, so did Nikki.
Nikki noticed Jack’s hand was now resting on Hannah’s silent chest. How she wished she hadn’t denied him so much time with their daughter. There was so much she wished she could change. Trust, Jess had said last night. Believe. In what?
If nothing else, maybe it was time she started believing in Jack. Reaching out tentatively, Nikki placed her hand over his. Without waking, he intertwined his fingers with hers. She lay there quietly for a few more minutes, unable to sleep. All the mistakes she’d made, recently and in the past crushed down on her. She’d been so self-reliant, so sure of herself. How could she have been so wrong?
Her conversations with Jess played over in her mind again. She thought about his background, his scars, his abilities. Could he really know Hannah’s spirit was with God? Nikki berated herself. How could she think such a thing? She wasn’t even a believer, and if there was a real God, He certainly wouldn’t be coming to visit her. For just a moment, though, the reminiscent feeling of boundless love eased through her like sweet, hot honey. She used to revel in it when she was little, imagining God watching over her, talking to her, caring about her. Nikki imagined Hannah talking to God, asking a menagerie of questions, reveling in the fact that her grandma had been right when they’d snuck in quiet talks about God.
Nikki used to be bothered by her mother’s attempts to convert Hannah. Now she was glad for it. Just in case.
She found herself desperate to see Jess. Even if he was just a man, he seemed to have so many answers. Right now, Nikki really needed answers.
Sitting up, she searched for him in the dim light of the banked fire. She could see everyone but him. He must have gone back home last night, wherever that was. Nikki wondered if she’d ever see him again.
Unable to sleep, she rose and stepped quietly across the room. She still had her boots and coat on. Easing through the door, she realized the storm hadn’t subsided in the least. She could barely climb off the porch. Noticing a glimmer of light through the trees ahead of her, Nikki made her way toward it. She thought at first it was a campfire, but no fire would stay lit in this wind and snow.
The closer she got to the light, the more she was drawn to it. Just as she reached the small clearing where she was sure the glow originated, the light seemed to dim. Maybe it was her imagination, a reflection of some stray light off the billowing swirls of snow. Then she noticed the grove of aspen across the clearing. Somehow a multitude of golden leaves had stayed on the light grey branches. That must be what she’d seen among the forest of dark pines.
Nikki turned back around. She could barely see the cabin anymore. It was dangerous staying out here alone in the dark; she just couldn’t find it within herself to care. Her arms felt empty. Her heart felt empty. Nothing in her life mattered anymore. She thought of the lecture she was supposed to give later today. That lecture had cost her Hannah’s life. Nikki didn’t even know what to believe anymore, but she knew she’d never be able to speak with the confidence she had before.
If she could delude herself into believing Hannah’s spirit was happy and content with a heavenly Father somewhere, so be it. It might prove her only means of holding on to some morsel of sanity.
“I need you,” she whispered. Nikki had no idea what she expected. Some imagined warmth, maybe a perceived sense of peace. Certainly not this continued debilitating emptiness.
Eerie sounds surrounded her, wind thrashing through leaves and pine boughs, drifts crunching under her feet. Frigid air made frozen branches crack beneath the weight of snow and ice. She should leave. But she couldn’t. This had been her last chance to find something to believe in.
“Hello,” a voice called to her. “Were you looking for someone?”
Nikki’s heart leapt. It was Jess. “I think I was looking for God, but He didn’t show.”
“Come, sit.” He motioned to a fallen tree covered with sparkling crystals of snow. The wind finally slowed; a quiet calmness came over the wooded glen. “You’ve had a rough night.”
Nikki nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. One by one they spilled over the edge. It was a while before she could trust her voice. “It was my fault. I killed her. I should’ve listened to you.”
“Belief is a difficult thing.”
“I’ve spent my whole life insisting on evidence, on proof.”
“Proof abounds, but is often elusive,” Jess remarked. “It only becomes adequate with the attainment of knowledge.”
“But how can anyone prove the intangible?” Nikki put out to him.
“Just because people couldn’t see a microbe before the microscope was invented doesn’t mean microbes didn’t exist before the discovery.” He paused, taking in the diversity around them. “Because you see and touch only the physical world doesn’t prove there isn’t more. It simply establishes the need for additional knowledge.”
“How can we ever have enough knowledge to assess something we can’t quantify?”
“One day you will.”
“Maybe when I die.” Nikki was being sarcastic, but she took pause when Jess offered her a furtive smile.
“Yes. But perhaps sooner.” He took her hands in his. “Close your eyes.”
The warmth and peace she was looking for encompassed her. She felt weightless. A fleeting thought crossed her mind that maybe she’d fallen asleep in the snow and was dreaming all this as she slowly froze to death.
“Pay attention,” an amused voice penetrated her consciousness.
Suddenly Nikki became aware of everything around her. She wasn’t actually seeing it, but sensing it in a way no words could ever express. The brightness of the heavens was all around her, and a beauty she couldn’t describe. She felt free. If this was what Hannah felt…
“Mommy!” Nikki wasn’t sure where she heard the precious voice from, but it wrapped around her like a hug. Sparks of recognition and happiness exploded in her. “Mommy, it’s so pretty here. Can you stay?”
Nikki thought of Jack. “Not yet, Sweetheart.” It was the hardest thing she’d ever had to say, think, feel, whatever it was.
“Can I come back with you?”
“I don’t know.” And that, the second hardest. “But we have now.” They flew together through the heavens. Brightness, color, sounds like Nikki had never experienced before surrounded her in endless splendor. The depth of its magnificence was boundless.
Too soon she felt it coming to an end. “I think I have to go now, Munchkin. I love you,” she called to Hannah as she felt a strong pull back to reality. “We all love you.”
Sensation swirled through Nikki, like a freefall back to consciousness. It hit her hard when she became aware of her body once again. The cold assailed her and she shivered. Then she became aware of Jess’ hands still grasping hers and warmth returned.
“What the hell was that?” she exclaimed.
He grinned. “Well, it wasn’t hell.”
“Was it heaven?”
“Not quite.”
Nikki stared at him in shock. “It’s real.” She took his wrists in her hands, turning them over, gazing at them in amazement. Her eyes met his. “You’re real.”
“Yes.”
Nikki couldn’t stop gaping. She had so many questions and she couldn’t think of one.
“Believe, Nik,” he instructed. “Trust the Spirit within you. You don’t need all the answers at once.”
“I’m sorry.” She thought of all the things she’d done, and said, and taught. “I’m so sorry.”
“Love forgives all, Nikki. Remember that.”
“But why me?” she questioned. “Hannah deserved you, and Jack, but not me.”
Jess touched his hand to her cheek. “If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them goes astray, will he not leave the ninety-nine in the hills and go in search of the stray? And if he finds it, he will set it on his shoulders with great joy, rejoicing more over it than over the ninety-nine that did not stray.”
Nikki was humbled. “Will Hannah be okay?”
“Hannah has never been happier. But there is much she could accomplish here.”
What did he mean?
“Ask, Nikki,” Jess stated, “and believe.”
Falling to her knees, she looked up to him, imploring. “Please,” she begged, “please bring her back to us.”
Jess stood, lifting Nikki up with him. Just then the sun broke over the horizon, bathing them in golden light. His smile was radiant. “Go. She’ll be looking for you.”
Nikki didn’t have a clue what spiritual protocol allowed, but she hugged him. His loving chuckle reverberated through her very core. “Thank you,” she cried. “Thank you.”
“Go on,” he said, freeing her. “Tell Hannah I love her.”
Nikki’s face beamed. “I will. But I think she already knows.” She stepped away backwards, feeling her way through the snow until the sun was too bright to see him very well. Then he was simply gone. Nikki turned then and ran. She thought this must be what his disciples felt like on that first Easter morning.
When she came up to the cabin door, she eased it open quietly. Everyone was still asleep. Jack’s hand still lay on Hannah’s chest. In the dim light everything looked as it had when Nikki left.
“Trust. Believe.” She felt the words in her heart and followed them. Picking up the little pink unicorn tossed haphazardly in the corner, she approached her daughter, kneeling at her side.
“Hannah,” she whispered.
Jack heard a gentle whisper and wondered what it was. He forced his eyes open to see Nikki kneeling next to Hannah. As he became fully conscious, anguish washed over him in devastating waves. What was Nikki doing?
“Hannah. It’s time to wake up now,” she was saying, as if she fully expected their dead daughter to rise up.
It was then Jack noticed the cold still chest he’d rested his hand on all night was warm, and moving! He jumped into an awkward sitting position, rubbing his eyes.
Nikki grinned brilliantly at him. “Morning Jack.” She turned back to Hannah then. “Come on Munchkin, Sophie missed you last night.”
Jack stared in shock as Hannah reached out her arms and stretched, kicking off the wrap that had encased her through the night. Her eyes opened, full of spark and life.
“I had the coolest dream,” she stated matter-of-factly. “I was talking to God. He told me all about bunnies and birds and he showed me how to fly.” She looked up at her mother. “And you were there, with Mr. Jess.”
“Yes I was, Honey.”
Hannah took Sophie, still a little damp, in her arms. “I missed you and Daddy, though, and Sophie.”
“We missed you too, Sweetie.”
“Why was Mr. Jess with you in my dream?” asked Hannah, yawning.
“Tell you what,” suggested Nikki, “if we get back into town soon enough, we’ll take you to church and you can learn all about Mr. Jess.”
About this time, Tom woke. He could swear he heard a little girl’s voice. He sat up, shaking his head to clear it. Certain he was dreaming, Tom stared in silence for a moment when he saw Hannah chatting with her mom and dad. For two hours last night he’d fought to bring life back into her poor dead form. Of all people, Tom knew she was gone. But what a beautiful dream.
Tom jumped when his radio blasted a dose of reality into the unexpected scene.
“Hey, this is Kyle Smith,” a friendly voice sounded after Tom responded to the call. “We’ve got a rescue chopper coming your way now that the storm finally broke. It was the oddest thing I ever saw on radar. About an hour ago, the whole system dissipated right over your position, then split and moved to either side, still as furious as ever. It’s all turning to rain south of here at least.”
“Okay, thanks. We’ll keep a look out.” Tom was still staring. The girl looked at him and smiled, her parents too. What the hell?
“I heard you lost the little one last night,” Kyle said in a subdued tone. “Sorry about that. Is everyone else doing all right?”
Tom closed his eyes and tried again, but the scene didn’t change. “You have no idea,” he answered, not bothering to elaborate.
At the sound of the radio call, Dr. Wittenberg sat up. “How soon will they be here?” she asked, still only half awake.
“Pretty soon I think,” he answered, still staring past her. At her quizzical look, he pointed. “You’re never going to believe this.” He left the rest for her to figure out.
