David Conners, M.D., is on the fast track to creating a perfect life when his seven-year-old daughter disappears. David's all-consuming quest to find her -- dead or alive -- threatens to destroy everything he has left: his medical practice, his marriage, his integrity, and even his soul.
If Rachel is dead: Can a parent forgive someone who has done the unthinkable?
Can David forgive himself?
If she's alive: Can David find her in time to save her?"Harry Kraus digs deep in this story of a father's harrowing inner and outer journey, and tells it with grit, compassion, and suspense." -- James Scott Bell, bestselling author ofDeceived"Salty Like Bloodkept me riveted and surprised me at every turn. I highly recommend this book. You won't be disappointed!" -- Terri Black stock , bestselling author ofDawn's Light
1
Rachel and I tumbled into the tall grass at the bottom of the hill, having survived yet another Daddy-just-one-more sled ride from the edge of our front porch. I collapsed on my back, trying to find oxygen between gasps of laughter, and looked up at the summer sky. My daughter, with limbs sprawled in a wide X and her head against my foot, shouted her delight toward the house. "We did it! We made it!"
Seconds before, airborne and soaring toward record distance, Rachel reached for an octave above the normal human voice range, squealing a note that rang on in my head, and I suspected invited half the neighborhood's canine population to play. I laughed and put my fingers in my ears, rolling them in an exaggerated twist as if she'd deafened me.
She moved to lay her head upon my chest and quieted herself there, listening to my racing heart.
I stroked her hair, inhaled the scent of mown grass, and nestled my head back into the tickle of green.
"Is it okay?" she asked.
"It's okay."
"It's too fast," she said, raising herself up and pushing a bony elbow into my gut.
"Oh, so now you're the doctor."
She smiled. "Someday," she said. "For now, you're the doctor."
"Don't worry. I'm okay." I scowled at my seven-year-old. "Really."
We rested together, staring at the sky full of clouds of hippopotami, horses, rockets -- whatever Rachel imagined. Mostly I gasped and oohed. In a moment I found myself blinking away tears, overwhelmed with the enormity of it all.
It was so ordinary. A summer Saturday morning without an agenda. It's hard for me to describe beyond the sense I had of emerging, as if I'd been submerged for so long, and now, just to play and laugh and roll in the grass seemed a joy that would burst my heart. I smiled, taking it in, gulping in ordinary life as if I'd never have a chance again.
As Rachel chatted on with her running commentary of sky castles, fiery dragons, and fairies, other images drifted through my mind, pictures of painful chapters that set my current joy into sharp contrast. Traveling with Joanne through the dark tunnel of postpartum depression. My mother's battle with cancer. Memories of an intensive care unit visit while I was the too-young patient, watching my own heart monitor and wondering if life would be cut short.
Joanne's voice swept me into the here and now. "What's going on?"
I looked up to see her standing on the covered porch, eyeing a bottle of vegetable oil that was set on the white railing.
Rachel lifted her head, her blond hair dotted with grass seed. "We're sledding, Mommy."
Joanne's hands rested firmly on her hips. "It's July, David." She picked up the bottle. "And I've been looking for this." She was serious, but her eyes betrayed her attempt at scolding me. Her happiness at my delight in our little Rachel couldn't be spoiled by my summer antics.
I exchanged a mischievous glance with Rachel. She betrayed me in a heartbeat. "It was Daddy's idea."
"Women!" I said, grabbing my daughter by the waist and swinging her around in a circle. "You always stick together!"
As I trudged up the hill with Rachel
<< less
MY CART | item(s)
U.S. Standard
Free U.S. Standard
U.S. Expedited
International
