chapter 1 (cont.)

     Harold knelt at his wife�s beside, held her hand, and leaned in close to her face. He spoke to her softly with heartfelt monition. �Clair honey,� he said, �you�re very sick. You�re more sick than you realize.�

     �I know honey,� she barely whispered. She looked into his eyes with weak determination. �But I�m up to it. I don�t want to be the reason we don�t get our family. I can get through this.�

     �But Clair, the doctors are saying there can�t be a family this time�that I could lose both you and the baby. It�s not a matter of will, honey. It�s out of our hands. It�s out of your hands. If the doctors are frightened at the possibility of the outcome Clair, it�s really dangerous.�

    �We�ll just have to pray then, won�t we?� she said, speaking with the strength of hope. �We�ve got to trust in the Lord, Harold�now more than ever.� She coughed weakly; her words began to steal away her breath, �I�m not giving up�If God didn�t want us�to have this baby�I wouldn�t have gotten�pregnant�in the first place�I truly�believe that.�

     �I know you do honey,� Harold said. �Get some rest.� He knew there was no converting her once she�d planted her feet in the soil of faith. So he backed off, knowing if things got out of control he was the one doctors would consult for a final say. That�s when he would exercise his decision to have his wife alive and at home rather than in a stoned-over hole in a nearby cemetery.

(free preview cont.)