Chapter 14: The Vigil of the Creek
On a clear, warm evening in late August, when the summer dusk was painting the sky in shades of violet, amber, and molten gold, Laura and David walked out to the edge of the millpond.
Down in the shallows, five-year-old Thomas and seven-year-old Elena were wading with a hand net, catching small silver minnows and releasing them safely into the reeds, their bright laughter drifting across the calm water on the evening breeze.
Across the pond, the warm incandescent lights of the apprentice cottages flickered on, casting a golden glow across the gardens where young weavers and sawyers were sharing evening supper on the porch.
David wrapped his strong arm around Laura’s waist, pulling his wife close against the cooling evening air.
Laura leaned her head against his shoulder, listening to the steady, unhurried rhythm of his heart and the deep, eternal murmur of the rushing water.
""Do you remember the chapel in Richmond, David?"" Laura asked softly, watching the first evening stars appear over the mountain ridges.
""I remember,"" David replied gently, kissing her temple.
""I thought I was dead that morning,"" Laura whispered, touching the heart-oak ring on her finger. ""I thought the darkness had won.""
David turned her gently, looking into her clear, tranquil eyes with unshakeable reverence.
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""The darkness never wins, Laura,"" David said softly. ""It only takes one person willing to swing the axe to bring back the light.""
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