The Cry of the Wolf Chapter 31

George braced himself as the ship heaved once again with a deep, shuddering groan - an echo of George's spirit as he faced breaking the news to his wife.

Gretjen looked up as George approached, her ashen features pinched with worry. Searching her husband's face with misty blue eyes, she already knew the answer.

"We are far off course," George confirmed, repeating what the captain had explained, "Your father needs to know."

Great crystal tears tumbled down Gretjen's cheeks, "How can I tell my father? He has been my everything..."

A lesser man may have been jealous.

"Oh Sweetheart," George drew his wife into his embrace.

"I can't accept it," Gretjen wept into her husband's broad chest, "I must believe God for a miracle."

"I agree. We will pray for your father, however, he deserves to know so he can choose how he wishes to spend his last moments. Wouldn't you want to know?"

Gretjen nodded her head, taking a moment to imagine herself in her father's place. How would she choose to spend her last moments? Certainly not in frivolity. No, she would most certainly wish to know.

"Come, I'll be at your side. We will speak with your father and then decide how best to tell our sons."

Gretjen didn't utter a word, slipping her hand within her husband's as, together, they turned in the direction of her elderly father.

****

Hans' eyes fluttered open at the sound of his daughter's soft voice. His eyes struggled to focus although a faint smile tugged at his thin lips.

"In my darkness, I hear an angel's voice," Hans' eyes twinkled, "My sweet Gretjen, come close so I may hold your hand."

"Vater..."

"Are those tears I feel?" Her father frowned, lines creasing his forehead, "Why are you weeping?"

"Vater, my worst fears have been confirmed. My heart is twisted with guilt for bringing you with us on this journey. If we had not..."

"There, there now, Gretjen, don't speak such foolishness. What is left for me in our homeland? Tears? Memories I would sooner forget? Your poor mother's ashes haunt my dreams... No, I would have joined my only child if you were traveling to the ends of the earth." A chest-rattling cough interrupted his chuckle, "Although I now believe we may have fallen off the edge of the earth."

As if to confirm Hans' suspicion, the ship jolted, upturning a small table.

Gretjen couldn't help but laugh at the timing, swiping at her tears. How she was able to find humor at a time like this was a mystery in itself.

"Vater," Gretjen began again, kneeling at her father's side, "The ship is off course and it may be some time yet before we reach land..."

A weak hand clasped hers, skin nearly translucent, his veins standing out in stark contrast against ghostly pale skin.

"The captain knows what he is doing," Hans rasped, attempting to assuage his daughter's fears.

"No, Vater, this is out of the captain's control and until the storm subsides, I fear another Captain will be taking over soon...Jesus."

"Ah," Hans breathed, as realization dawned on him, "The Captain of my soul..." Tears pooled in his eyes. "I fear I have long since lost faith in that particular Captain. I am not so sure He will accept me now."

"What?" Gretjen's hand flew to her mouth.

Hans' eyes sought his daughter's.

"Your Mamma's Saviour could have spared her life. Isn't He the Creator of all? The winds and the waves obey Him? Then sparing your Mamma would have been a simple thing..." Hans paused, his thoughts distant.

"No, I lost faith many years ago. How can I ask Him now to take me to a Heaven I don't deserve?"

Gretjen brought her father's frail hand to her lips, kissing his fingers before responding.

"Do you remember how Brother Martin Luther taught that salvation is by faith alone? Surely forgiveness will be found once you confess..."

A pained expression waltzed across Hans' face at the word, 'Confess.'

Gretjen kissed a tear that slid down her father's cheek.

"I'll pray with you, Vater."

Hans closed his eyes, "Have mercy, Lord, on this most undeserving soul. Forgive my unbelief. In Your mercy, forgive the years I wasted since You took my darling wife from me. If You can forgive this old fool, please take me home to glory. And if not..." He paused at the sound of Gretjen's broken sob. No, he wouldn't continue that train of thought...

"Amen."

"Amen," the younger couple repeated in unison.

"Oh Vater, how I love you!" Gretjen laid her head on her father's chest as she had done since childhood. She lay in that position embracing her father until he breathed his last.

"It's over," George fought his own onslaught of emotions but Gretjen wouldn't budge.

The captain rested his hand on Gretjen's shoulder, "Mrs. Brandt, it is time."

Gretjen wasn't certain how long she had been kneeling at her father's side, but her legs had long since lost feeling. Herman, her father-in-law, helped her to her feet.

"I know I can never take the place of your father, but if you ever need anything..." He gently guided Gretjen away as the captain draped Hans in a clean white sheet.

Standing on the deck, they scarcely heard the captain as he said a few words before Hans' wrapped figure entered his watery grave.

George caught Gretjen a moment before she collapsed onto the ship's deck.

Darkness is a welcome reprieve.

****

Within a few weeks, the ship embarked. Relief washed over the Brandt family as they found their land legs. Complexions pale, they smiled at the Huguenots who welcomed them to Acadia with open arms.

Native women smiled shyly at the newcomers. Hans Jr. grinned as Claus waived, his blue eyes sparkling.

"Welcome home," Jacques extended his hand.

Home.

A wild, untamed country lay before them - a fresh beginning, sorrow left behind.