Page 71 of The Nature of a Lady
“Tas-gwyn!” Perhaps Oliver recognized the feet, or perhaps it was just a hopeful cry. Either way, he was soon proven correct as more of Mr. Gibson came into view as they neared. And the legs moved, which was surely a good sign. By the time they reached him, the old gent was pushing himself up with a moan, a hand clutching his head.
“Tas-gwyn.” Oliver fell to his knees at his grandfather’s side and put an arm behind his back to help him the last few inches to sitting. “What happened? Are you all right?”
“Beth.”
Oliver frowned. “What about Beth? Is she here?”
“I don’t...” Mr. Gibson winced and shaded his eyes from the climbing sun. “She thought so. Said we should go and find her.”
“She—Mamm-wynn?” Urgency threaded its way through Oliver’s tone. “Is she here too? Where?”
Mr. Gibson looked around him, clearly disoriented. “I don’t know. We were together. It was still dark but beginning to lighten. She said something about taking the path to the cottages, and then ... I don’t remember.”
Oliver’s gaze flicked to Libby. “Will you stay with him?”
Someone had to, and he’d be the better choice for scouring the island. “Yes. Go!” She took his place by Mr. Gibson’s side, keeping him from standing with a firm hand on his shoulder. “You stay put, sir. Oliver will find her.”
He must have been in quite a bit of pain to relent as easily as he did. She felt his shoulders sag under her hand. “Poor Adelle. I didn’t mean to leave her unprotected.”
Oliver didn’t rush off as she expected him to. He stood there, eyes focused on his grandfather and yet not. Hands clenched into fists that looked as though they were meant to moor him to some invisible line.
Mr. Gibson looked up at him. “Sorry, my boy. We only wanted to find Beth. I shouldn’t have...”
Oliver crouched down again and rested a hand on the shoulder Libby wasn’t already anchoring. “I think, before I go tearing off in search of Mamm-wynn, we had better pray.”
Pray?Now?When it was so imperative that he find his grandmother as quickly as possible? Libby opened her mouth to tell him that was a foolish idea, but no words escaped her lips.
And she was glad of it, when she heard the words coming from his.
“Father God, here we are before you. On our knees quite literally. Begging you, our Father and our Lord, to walk before us. Lead us. Show us where to find Mamm-wynn and even Beth. We know that you love them both even more than we do. You have numbered the hairs on their heads. You know their innermost thoughts. You call them by name.”
Libby drew in a slow breath, silently, so as not to interrupt him. This wasn’t the sort of prayer she was used to, with recited words and memorized phrases. This ... well, this was the sort one took the time to say. Not an anonymous petition to a King or Creator, as she would have made, but an earnest supplication to a Father.
This was a sort of prayer that at once bemused and intrigued her.
“We ask that you guide my steps now to them. That you keep your hand on them, protecting them. We ask for your healing touch upon Mabena and Tas-gwyn.”
Oliver went quiet, but Libby’s heart added a plea.I ask that you show yourself to me, God. Ifyou are there, if you are the loving Father Oliver claims ... please show me. Show me by showing us Mamm-wynn. If anything happens to her...
She wasn’t entirely sure it was the right sort of petition to make. Was it testing God? Wasn’t there a Scripture that warned not to do that? But Gideon had asked for proof—she remembered that story well enough. Twice he’d asked. And twice he’d been given what he asked for, to know that it was truly God instructing him.
Well, the Lord hadn’t called her to lead an army, so He wouldn’tanswer her as He had Gideon. But if He knew her name, if He loved her, if He really did number the hairs on her head, perhaps He would do this now. Not just to show himself to her, but for Mamm-wynn’s sake. For Oliver’s. For every Scillonian who loved her.
“Amen.” Oliver whispered the word, opened his eyes, squeezed his grandfather’s shoulder. Met her gaze.
She had the strangest sensation that he knew exactly what she’d prayed for. That he’d waited for her to finish her wordless petition before he breathed that last word. She dredged up a small smile to offer him.
In her mind, God had always been distant, abstract. But now, here, with these people, she couldn’t help but think that He’d come near. Or thatshehad.
With a nod, Oliver stood again. And ran.
19
Oliver didn’t slow until he reached the overgrown path that led to the skeletal remains of the cottages, and only then because a spot of orange caught his eye. He stopped, bent, and plucked up the daisy from the path. Cleanly cut, like the ones outside his own garden gate. Beth’s favorites. Had their grandmother cut them for her, thinking to come here and give them to her?
But why? And what would make Mamm-wynn think Beth was here, of all places?
The wind danced around him, laughing in his ears.Why not?it seemed to say. She’d known Beth was gone, after all, was “not where she ought to be.” She’d known Libby needed a necklace and a shawl. Perhaps the Lord had whispered those things to her. And perhaps He’d done so again.
