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As if an answer to prayer, Ian Paisley, the man who owned the farm came running out towards the field “Harold!” he yelled running, Harold wiped more water from his face, looking about.

“Thank God please tell me he’s with you” he said starting to walk over towards Ian.

Not hearing him Ian, walked up quickly ‘what are you doing on here?” he asked “it’s a lightning storm your going to get yourself killed.”

“Brian’s out here.” Harold replied looking around anxiously again, he was just standing, he had no clue where his son was, but he couldn’t do much traveling on foot. He wanted to skim the whole bank of the creek searching for any sign.

“Christ Harold, it’s livewire out here, You’re going to get yourself killed” Ian said still not understanding, he looked where Harold was searching “How’d he get out here at a time like this.”

“I don’t know!” Harold said looking sideways at him, water was everywhere, he was getting soaked through the bone, and every second that passed was tearing his hope away “Ian, I need a horse” he said looking at the man.

“Sure thing, I’ll see if I can get my two mares, they’re not going to like this you know though.” He said, as he ran back “I’ll check my barn, maybe Brian ran in there.”

Harold nodded, he couldn’t bring himself to leave the field, he couldn’t ride however in kaki pants.

….


Jackie pressed her fingers to the window, she had been pacing for twenty minutes, till she saw the three boys running through the back of the field, she opened the glass door and ran out, hugging her son “You’re safe” she said kissing her son on the cheek, all three boys were coughing and hacking. “Where’s Brian?” she asked standing up looking back out towards the field, she placed her nails to her lips as they started to quiver, her fear returning.

“We couldn’t find him, we searched for two hours.” Baker looked up at her, his lips were turning purple “Dad wants you to call the police.”

Jackie looked down at the skin soaked boys, her eye’s blinking from the rain “You should’ve come home – My baby” she realized again looking up “Boy’s go inside, Basely, Davie call your Mom’s they’ve been worried sick.” She said with the remainder of her composer, the boys did as they were told. Jackie saw another lightning over the ridge, she counted to two, her voice growing frantic. The voice’s of her friends that had come when Brian spent his summer in the hospital, came rushing into her head.

He’s not yours.. God want’s him home Jackie, maybe he’s meant to go home.


She shook her head, watching the rain poor down pleading up above silently for a miracle “Please” she begged looking up at the sky, she wanted to break down and cry, but she had to hold out and hope, her husband was still out there looking.

“Mom” Baker called shaking form inside, “Mom!” he said again, she turned around an ran inside, Another bolt cracked through right closer to the left of the house “Where’s Dad, Mom” Baker asked, Jackie moved him away from the door, and ran inside to call the police, just as she turned around one last time, she saw her husband coming back, he was on a horse.


…


Harold slid off the saddle leading the horse up to the back porch, “Baker” he yelled, calling his son outside. Baker walked out, coughing.

“Get your coat on and come out here and hold the horse.” The trees to the side of the house bent against the wind. Baker watched frightened for a moment. “Come on son, he won’t move.”

Taking the reigns from his Dad’s hands, baker walked over to the sheltered part of the house, he wanted to cry again, but he was too afraid of the horse balking.

Harold walked into the house dragging his soaked body up the stairs, “Jackie did you call the police” he asked, she was up in their room, making the call. He looked in then shut the door behind him, stripping down, throwing everything on the tile, quickly getting suitable riding clothes on.

Jackie hung up the phone, watching her husband pull on a white shirt, and jacket “You can’t go back out there.” She whispered looking at him, her eyes darting.

He looked at her for a brief moment, then pulled on his Stetson, and touched her face for a moment, then walked out of the door “Get the boys dry.” He said as he raced back down the stairs, grabbing two flashlights from the drawer.

Baker watched his Dad come back out, and brought the horse around, the wind had picked up again, the saplings Harold had planted the summer before where starting to come up from the roots. ‘Dad?” Baker looked up at him, as he dad took the reigns and remounted the horse.

“Baker, I need you to look after your mom, can you do that for me?” He asked, switching the leather strip under his two middle fingers for a better grip. Kicking the horse in the side and clicking got the beast on the move, bolting back across the field.

…


Ian’s fresh eyes were doing nothing but leading him in circles, he had gone as far as was possible before the fence stopped onlookers, he was sure the barb wire was enough to keep Brian away. Harold road back fast, he looked a lot more comfortable in the saddle, as he held onto the horn pulling the horse to a stop.

A lone tree that had been standing by the creek, was ripped up from it’s roots, turned over on it’s side “sweet Jesus” Ian watched the tumbleweed start to fly, “Let’s make this quick” he suggest. Harold nodded looking down at his own horse for a moment; it was growing fidgety with the lightning and thunder closing in.

Harold split off to the east letting his horse trot along the river, searching for any sign of his son, “Brian!” he yelled scanning the other side, it would’ve been impossible, even for Harold to try and wade through the overflowing creek. The horse held it’s gate till Harold reached the ridge, then it balked, refusing to go forward.

Harold was draining his last efforts, dusk was already giving way to nightfall pretty soon all that would be seen would be the lightning bolts, he felt like he was traveling in circles. The winds were picking up more so now, shoving gusts of powerful winds against him and his horse.

Ian rode up behind Harold and the horse, his flashlight, barly making it past the rain “They won’t be able to get helicopters in till the morning.” He said riding up beside Harold.

Coughing Harold looked over at him, he wanted to die, his hands were numb, his face had been wind burned, and if not for the horse he would’ve been blown away “I’ll keep looking.”

“Harold, the horse is sweating, and you are two. The police are bringing dispatched on the other side of the river, and down by the Huntley’s place –“

Sliding off the horse, Harold walked over towards Ian, handing him the reigns.

“Harold!” Ian watched as he walked further down the towards the river, Ian followed leading the horse along with him “Harold, you can’t do anything else tonight. We’re lucky we’ve been missing these suckers for three hours, but it’s dark, Your wife doesn’t need two funerals.” He said.

Harold turned around, looking down, he had stopped in the exact place where his eldest son had left his toys lying in the mud, he hadn’t heard a word that Ian said, but he was too cold, to cramped and his brain was pounding to much to allow him to go further. “Half hour” he said looking back at Ian, the man shook his head.

“I can’t leave you out here by yourself Harold” he said “There’s a mudslide down by the ridge, and there’s bound to be more over by the rocks, without a horse, you’re dead –“

“Ian, Harold” both men turned around, Harold felt a sigh of relief as a set of officers road out towards them.

“We’ve canvassed everything” Dirk Edger, a bigger man, with a barreled chest was riding his horse, he had joined the search party “There’s no sign of him, on the other side of the ridge, nothing over on the other side of the creek. I doubt he could’ve made it over there anyhow. Harold remounted the horse, patting it’s heaving sides.

“We’ll keep out here” another officer said looking at both men. “You two get dry, and we’ll call you if we find anything.”

Harold and Ian nodded riding back towards Harold’s house, “I’ll board him in the shed” Harold said stepping off, he had a few things he could use to rub the mare down with, as well as plenty of thick blankets, he hate to drag the animal clear across back to Ian’s place when he could keep it by the house. Ian nodded, and road off.

After removing the saddle, rubbing the horse down with an old horse brush, and walking him around the shed Harold switched the harness for a lead rope. Then grabbing some blankets, he covered the mare, and walked inside to grab a bag of oats Jackie had bought so the boys could feed the Paisley’s horses when they were by the farm.

Finally walking into the house, Harold saw his wife’s face it was pale, as she squinted back. Swallowing hard, he walked up to her hugging her for a moment, letting her cry.

…


Baker sat in the front room; the neighbors had makeshift a search party of houses around the area, nothing had quite sunk in for him yet. He was wrapped in a warm blanket on the couch, where his aunt coddled him. Looking over at the kitchen he could see his Dad, dripping, coughing as he spoke with detectives who had come on the scene. “Mom” he whispered, wandering over to her, the blanket wrapped around her “Mom!”, she was standing in font of her husband giving the detectives “Mom” everything they needed. “MOM!” he yelled again, she looked over at him she couldn’t form words.

Anne came over taking him back into the other room “Come one sweetheart-“ she murmured.

“Mom, Dad!” Baker cried, wanting one of them to hold him, he had never seen death or had anything like this, it was all foreign, but as the seconds went by it was getting harder and harder to cope with.
“Baker, honey you’re parents are trying to figure out where your little –“

“Dad” Baker cried, pulling his hands out, as Anne tried to guide him back, tears were streaming down his face, how could they not see the guilt he felt. Harold let go of his wife, and walked over to his son, watching as Baker tore from his aunt, hugging his Dad.

His face stuck to his dad’s wet shirt as he cried, he knew he was partially responsible, he told his mom he would keep an eye his baby brother. “I’m sorry Dad” he murmured, tears covering his small cheeks.