“We did have lots of fun, but I never enjoyed the farm like you and Autumn did. I like living in a big city. I’d probably never go to the farm except to see our folks.”
Spring choked, and Summer started to ring for a nurse when her sister swallowed and coughed. Summer took a tissue from the table and wiped blood from her sister’s lips.
“You ought to rest now.”
“Will you take Timmy and Nicole?”
The words astonished Summer, and she felt as if a giant hand were strangling her. “What! I don’t know how to take care of children. Besides, you’re going to get well so you can look after them yourself.”
“Promise me!”
Summer was stunned to silence. She couldn’t have spoken if she’d wanted to.
“Promise me!” Spring’s voice sharpened. She sounded exactly like their mother, Clara Weaver, and Summer had never disobeyed that voice.
“All right,” she whispered reluctantly, hoping she wouldn’t be held to a promise made under such duress.
Spring smiled contentedly, then her feverish eyes dulled, and she seemed to have trouble focusing on Summer’s face. “Pray for me. I’m a little afraid.”
Summer gasped, but she was willing to try anything to ease her sister’s mental and physical suffering.
After a few false starts, Summer closed her eyes, and addressed God for the first time in her life. “God, you don’t know me for I’ve never talked to You before. I don’t even know how to go about this, but Spring needs You, God. Will You give her peace of mind and comfort of heart? I’m glad I’m here with her, but I don’t know what to do. Maybe I need You, too.”
Summer sensed another presence in the room, and embarrassed, she looked around to see who’d heard her praying, but she was still alone with her sister. Spring’s face, that had been distorted with pain, relaxed into a smile of contentment, and Summer thought she’d gone to sleep. Had God answered her prayer? Was His Spirit in the room comforting Spring? It was a startling thought!
Time passed slowly. Spring didn’t rouse, although the nurses checked her frequently, sometimes changing the IVs or adding medication to the tubes. The chaplain came in after midnight, and he held Spring’s hand and prayed. When Summer compared his beautifully worded prayer with her miserable effort, she wondered if her petition had done any good.
Spring’s breathing increased in irregularity, and Summer was afraid to be alone with her sister when she died, but she didn’t ask a nurse to stay with her. Thinking it might ease Spring’s mind and bring courage to herself, Summer picked up a pamphlet the chaplain had left and read aloud.
“‘Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.”’
“‘Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.”’
If God was here for Spring as she went through the valley of death, wouldn’t He also be with anyone else in the room? Although Summer could only imagine what the presence of God could mean, she had observed the difference His indwelling Spirit had made in her sisters’ lives. For the first time, Summer coveted the peace Spring and Autumn had found.
If God was watching over Spring, she might as well try to relax, so Summer leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. She was startled when she felt a soft hand on her shoulder. Her eyes opened wide as she looked at the bed to see if Spring still lived before she turned to the man at her side. Expecting an aide or a doctor, she was surprised to see a lithe, wiry young man with short dark-brown hair and snappy brown eyes, dressed in a brown business suit. For a moment his identity eluded her, until a two-year-old memory flooded her mind.
David Brown—Bert’s brother!
“Summer?” David said.
“Yes, it’s me.” David was Spring’s brother-in-law, and since none of her immediate family was with her, Summer welcomed David. She pulled another chair close to the bed and invited him to sit down.
“I’m sorry about Bert,” she said.
Sorrow clouded David’s brown eyes. “He was my only brother.” He cleared his throat and spoke with difficulty. “Is Spring going to make it?”
“The doctors don’t expect her to live. She’s been getting worse since I got here about ten o’clock.”
“Any of your family with you?”
Summer shook her head. “Spring and Bert left their kids with Mother and Daddy while they went on this fund-raising trip for their school in North Carolina, so my folks have to look after them. Mother isn’t able to travel anyway. My sister, Autumn, is expecting a baby any day, so she can’t be here. Daddy asked me to come and check out the situation. I live in New York, so it didn’t take long for me to get here.”
A half smile played around his generous, well-cut mouth. “I remember you intended to move to New York. How do you like living in a big city?”
“It’s great,” she said, and her blue eyes gleamed with delight. “I’ve been there almost two years, and I know it’s the place for me. I’m working in a Wall Street bank.” Her eyes darkened when she remembered the situation. “Did any of your family come with you?”
“No. My parents are really torn up by Bert’s death, and they asked me to come and help Spring make funeral arrangements. Is she able to make decisions?”
“She talked for a little while, and she said she wanted to be buried in the Weaver cemetery on the family farm in Ohio.”
Perhaps the sound of David’s tender, smooth voice had penetrated Spring’s subconsciousness and reminded her of her husband, for she opened her eyes.
“Bert,” she whispered weakly.
Summer quickly stood and put her hand on Spring’s shoulder. “Bert isn’t here, dear, but David came.”
“I remember now—Bert died in the accident.” Spring swallowed with difficulty, and although the Weaver family didn’t habitually display overt affection, Summer bent to kiss her cheek.
“Take Bert and me home to be buried.”
“Dad wanted me to bring Bert’s body to Tennessee,” David said quietly to Summer, “but I guess the decision should be up to Spring.”
“David,” Spring whispered in a faltering voice. He leaned over the bed. “Timmy and Nicole.”
“Yes,” David said, “what about them?”
“Timmy and Nicole,” Spring said again, agitation marking her voice.
“Your kids are in Ohio,” David said.
“No. North Carolina,” Spring insisted weakly, and she didn’t speak again.
The nursing staff had been in and out of the room all night, but David and Summer were alone when Spring breathed her last. A piece of equipment emitted a shrill whistle, shattering the quiet of the room, and Summer screamed. The pressure of the long hours since she’d learned of Spring’s accident had been too much, and she started trembling. When two nurses ran into the room, David drew Summer into the hallway and encircled her in the protective cover of his arms. He massaged her back lightly until she stopped trembling, then led her to a small waiting room near the elevator, sat down with her, his arm still around her shoulders.
For a moment she rested against his firm body, then she moved away from him. Her features were