Chapter 7

Jonathan relaxed further as the town fell behind them. They had trotted for a distance, when Nathaniel called, “Let us ride the wind.”

And ride the wind they did. They urged their mounts into a lively gallop and flew over the countryside. Nathaniel led the way over the meadows, through the woods, hooves pounding, jackets billowing, hair flying. Jonathan had not felt so free in many months, maybe even years. Nathaniel was right. This was the way to praise God.

After twenty minutes of exhilarating canter, they reined up in a grove of trees. Beyond the grove was a grassy meadow and in the middle an azure pond, the sun glinting off the soft ripples on its surface.

“This is beautiful,” exclaimed Jonathan.

“It is, is it not?” came the reply. “I come here often. After last night I could scarcely wait to share it with you.”

“Thank you,” the young man replied, touched that Nathaniel would think of something this tender.

“Come, there is more to discover.”