Janet dabbed her cheeks with a tissue. Her cool hand smoothed a curl from Bonny’s forehead. “Some things are impossible to understand.”
Metal rings clinked. The curtain slid open and a nurse dressed in green—only a little taller than the gurney—stepped in. “I’ve come to take you to the operating room. Am I interrupting?”
“Please,” Janet said, “can I pray with her first?”
“Of course. I’ll be right outside.” She backed up and closed the curtain behind her.
With difficulty, Bonny strained to hear Janet’s words over the thump of her heart against her ribs. But it didn’t matter. All she desired were Kieran’s arms around her.
Once again, she faced a painful trial alone.
***
Bonny closed her eyes and took shallow breaths to avoid aggravating the deep, burning pain in her lower abdomen. An insistent voice repeated her name, and someone rubbed her shoulder. She moved hesitant hands to her abdomen and met bandages. “The surgery’s over?”
“Aye, you’re in recovery. I’m Fionna. You have company if you’re up to it.” The nurse raised the head of the bed and held out a cup with a straw. “Take a sip for me first, pet. I’ll give you more pain medication.”
Cool water soothed her parched throat but not her heart. “Thank you. Where’s my husband?”
“There’s a gentleman out there. One more sip, lass.” She set the cup within reach and walked away.
Bonny closed her eyes and took shallow breaths to avoid aggravating her incision. She dreaded Kieran’s pain more than her own but craved the comfort of his arms.
The curtain opened and their pastor, Graeme MacDholl, stepped aside, allowing Janet to precede him. A waterfall of fear gushed from her eyes, and Janet stooped to kiss her cheek, wiping her face with a tissue. “Oh, love, I’m so sorry.”
“Where’s Kieran?”
Deep brown eyes met her own. Her husband’s best friend rested his hand on her arm. “We don’t know. The farmhands are searching, Bonny. He wasn’t where Angus expected. They’ll find him soon. His parents are on their way.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? He always checks in if he’s out longer than he expects. He should have been back by now.” Her stomach turned upside-down—fear born of loss and disappointment. Janet reached for the basin and cradled Bonny’s head when her abdomen clenched and burned.
The pastor went for Fionna, who brought water to rinse Bonny’s mouth, placed a cool, damp cloth on her head, and wrapped a warm blanket around her.
Janet’s hand squeezed her icy fingers, while the chills from anesthesia chattered her teeth. “You know there’s a reasonable explanation. He probably had to go farther than he expected. Remember there’s terrible mobile service in the Laddie Wood.”
Reasonable? Didn’t anyone else realize an earthquake rocked the entire world? Bonny splinted her abdomen with her hands as sobs thrust upward. “How do I tell him?”
Fionna returned. “Your in-laws are here. I can’t allow four at once.”
“We’ll be right outside.” Janet kissed her forehead and stepped out.
A black curtain descended around her. Two statements screamed in her head.
Kieran.
Our baby.
Kieran.
Our baby.
Metal rings clinked again. Her in-laws stepped through the peach-colored curtain and Hamish MacDonell bent to kiss her cheek, grey hair tousled from running his fingers through it, the same way Kieran did. “We hurried to get here, lass. We’re a poor substitute, but we won’t leave you alone.”
Maggie, blue eyes rimmed in red, placed a cool hand on her other cheek and kissed her forehead. “I’m so sorry, love. Dr. Moncrieffe explained everything. I know how it hurts to lose a child but to hear there will never be another … I have no words. I don’t understand God’s purposes, but we love you. We’re here for you.”
White-hot anger coursed through Bonny. Why did people always say there was a divine purpose? Yes, she believed in a God of love, but at times life appeared contrary to his nature when he allowed circumstances to take their natural course without intervening. How else could one explain her father’s cancer diagnosis seven months after her mother’s death from a brain tumor, or two broken engagements? “Why would God steal our miracle baby? Why delay Kieran when I need him? Must I lose everyone? Nothing makes sense. Nothing.”
Her father-in-law’s hands rested gently on her shoulders. “There, there, mo nighean. You’re the daughter we never had, and I’d take this away if I could. We love you and will stay with you. Wheesht, cryin’ will only make you hurt worse. Kieran will show up soon. Remember when we paced the hospital halls after the poacher shot him. God never leaves you with nothing or no one. Though we may not feel him, the Lord is with us.”
“I know.” Bonny’s voice sounded so weak she barely heard herself. She was fragile and broken inside as her mother’s fine crystal vase when she shattered it at age seven. It had been so difficult to work up the nerve to tell Kieran she couldn’t have children. When she did, he became so angry. Given time, he returned, but how would he handle another disappointment after already losing both a wife and child?
“He kissed me goodbye and left to find the sheep with a promise to return in a few hours. What if his disappearance is somehow related to the poaching?”
“We won’t borrow trouble, lass. Stay calm while Angus and the others search. You concentrate on getting better.”
She turned her face to the wall and closed her eyes.
No matter what they say, I don’t see God in this. Kieran will be a pastor soon, but God has deserted us, and no one understands.
Fionna returned to wheel her into a private room with a partial view of Ben Nevis. What irony to look out at the “mountain of heaven” and feel the same as the day she arrived in Scotland.
Separated from God.
Bereft of hope.
***
There is loss too deep for tears. Bonny awakened when a new nurse hung another unit of blood. Sun peeked around the blinds. Morning. And still no Kieran. On his visit the previous evening, Dr. Moncrieffe said she had lost almost half her blood volume. What if she died without one last glimpse of his beloved face?
One more touch.
One more kiss.
So alone.
She had twisted the sheet into knots in her worry. Hamish and Maggie, in exhausted sleep a few feet away, only made the lack of his presence more palpable. How could he disappear on their own farm?
Angus MacTeague had been the farm manager since Kieran’s childhood, almost family. He spoke to him last and knew where the sheep should be. Even in the wildness of Stonehaven Farm, someone should be able to find him. Hamish, Angus, and Kieran wore their knowledge of the land comfortably as their kilts, a lifelong familiarity. What weren’t they telling her? Bonny grabbed the side rail and tried to roll over but fell back breathing hard, the room twirling from even that small motion. She was helpless. Dear God, please lead them to Kieran. Don’t let him die.
Only five months ago, she searched alone when Kieran failed to return from tracking a poacher. She found him bleeding in the snow from a bullet to the abdomen. His horse had spooked with highland temperatures plummeting when a fast-paced blizzard approached. He would have died if she’d waited for the police. Maybe he waited somewhere now, alone and in need of help.