Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. This is a work of fan fiction for entertainment purposes only.
Ratings and Warnings: PG. Violence, character death.
Author email: wnkk1@earthlink.net
“Why can’t Hardcase spring for a riding mower?” McCormick grumpily thought to himself after mowing the back two acres. Gosh, it was hot! He still had the whole front lawn to cut, then had to weed the garden. The Judge had gone with Frank over to the crime lab to look at some evidence about a case they were working on and left him home to “do the chores.” He’d have to have a little talk with Hardcastle later about his consideration for the “hired help”.
McCormick was a little surprised that Sarah hadn’t come out with a drink for him. She usually did when he was working hard. Sarah had become like a Grandmother to him. Underneath her stern exterior she was a very compassionate, loving lady. She just didn’t like to show that side of herself very often. Maybe she had been hurt badly before and was very cautious about sharing her emotions. He guessed he could understand that, given his own background. She had a way of making him feel special. It was hard to believe he had so many people in his life now that really seemed to care about him! It gave him a warm feeling inside!
He decided to go in and get himself a glass of tea to save Sarah a trip. As he entered the kitchen, he heard a sudden loud explosion--sounded like a gunshot! He raced through the hall to the den and was shocked to see Sarah lying in the middle of the floor. Blood was oozing out of her chest. Her eyes were open and she looked longingly at him.
“Sarah!” he screamed and started to run to her. He could see she was badly wounded. He barely got two feet toward her when a gun went off behind him, and he felt a bullet shatter his right shoulder, slicing its way through his back and exiting out the front of his chest. The pain was so intense he collapsed on the floor, never seeing the man who shot him run out the door.
Still conscious, he focused on the body of the housekeeper. “Sarah, I’m coming!” Dragging his right arm, he crawled inch by inch over to her, ignoring the excruciating pain and the rapid blood loss soaking his shirt. She was bleeding to death! “I’ll call for help!” he frantically cried, trying to summon up the strength to reach the phone on the desk.
“Mark, it’s too late,” she said, grimacing. “I want you to know… how much you have… have come to mean to me… you are like a son… I never had. I am so… proud of the man you have become.”
The tears were streaming down McCormick’s face. “Sarah, you can’t leave me, I love you and need you too. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you!” Mark felt weak and thought he was going to pass out. He gathered up all the strength he had and clung to her, not wanting her to die alone.
Sarah was sinking. “Mark, my time is up now…I have lived a wonderful life…please don’t feel guilty about my death. I am ready…to go. Tell the Judge… I love him! You will have to help him…through this. Be strong for him! He loves you… you know!” She looked off to a distant spot in the room and a smile lit up her face. It was as if she could see someone or something on the other side and she wanted to go there.
Mark screamed, “Sarah, don’t go!” But it was too late, and she slipped away in his arms. Mark held her tight as she took her last breath, sobbing into her shoulder. He stroked her hair gently. He was losing blood at a rapid rate but right now didn’t care if he lived or died. He couldn’t let her go.
Hardcastle cruised up the estate drive and parked, noticing the mower standing idle and McCormick nowhere in sight.
“Frank, look at that! McCormick barely got any of the yard finished! That kid will do anything to get out of work!”
“Milt, you are being too hard on him. Give the kid a break! You know what a hard worker he is!” replied the police lieutenant.
As the two entered the front door, they both came to a sudden halt---shocked at the terrible sight before them. Frank knew it was bad and went to the phone immediately, calling for police backup and an ambulance. Hardcastle raced over to the huddled bodies. He felt the housekeeper’s neck for a pulse, but there was none! His beloved Sarah was gone. His eyes filled with tears. He could see Mark was alive but was bleeding profusely. The young man was still holding onto Sarah with a tight grip and crying. His pale face was filled with pain and his shirt was soaked in sweat and blood.
Mark realized the Judge was now there. Words poured out between the sobs. “I d…didn’t know…she was… in...in danger…! I would have stopped them … if I knew. I’m…s… so sorry, Judge!” Milt gently tried to pull McCormick away from Sarah. He knew that if he didn’t stop the blood loss he would lose Mark too. He couldn’t bear the thought of that! He wanted to cry so badly but was forcing the tears back. He had to stay focused to help McCormick.
“I want to…stay…with her. Leave me alone!” Mark whispered with what little strength he had left.
Frank ran into the hall bathroom and got a towel to try to stop the blood flow while waiting for the paramedics. “Mark, you need to lay flat!”
“No, l…leave me…alone! I want to stay…with S…Sarah!” The Judge was pressing the towel against his back wound and Frank was trying to hold it on his chest. Mark continued to fight weakly.
“Mark, lay still! Don’t you know I can’t lose you too?” Hardcastle’s voice seemed so far away-trying to penetrate into McCormick’s pain-filled mind. “Please, Mark, you need to fight. I need you! Don’t leave me!” But Mark could only focus deep inside himself-thinking about Sarah. [Why hadn’t he seen when the intruder had come? She would still be alive if he had paid more attention! He would have died to protect her-but he had failed her!] He was drowning in emotional anguish and felt physically drained of energy. His eyelids felt so heavy. The Judge and Frank seemed to be hidden by a shadow; their voices were fading away. He was too tired to try to hear them. Releasing his mental grip on consciousness, he passed into blackness.
“Milt, he should be coming around soon. He lost a lot of blood, but Dr. Friedman said he should be all right in time!” Lt. Harper placed a supportive hand on the jurist’s shoulder as they sat by Mark’s hospital bed in the Surgical Ward. The Judge was exhausted. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think he would walk into this nightmare. His beloved Sarah was gone and Mark was badly hurt---and he felt as if he were to blame. Frank had found a note in the den from John Green, a convict with a long history of mental illness whom he had sent up for 5-10 for kidnapping, saying he wanted to get back at the jurist and couldn’t think of any better way to do it than killing the people he loved. Hardcastle clenched his fist and beat it against the wall in frustration. [Why did he have to go with Frank to the lab today? That work wasn’t that crucial! He should have been home-to be on the alert--to protect the people in his life. He should have…] The Judge was beside himself with grief and guilt. He vowed that he would get the man responsible for this if it was the last thing he ever did.
Hardcastle had called Elizabeth Kauffman, Sarah’s sister, from the hospital and told her what happened. He was able to keep the tears in, though they threatened to leak out. It was one of the hardest things he ever had to do-mourning inside while trying to keep the outer image of a non-emotional “macho man”. He told her he would contact her about the funeral later that night, but right now he didn’t want to leave Mark’s side until the young man was awake and he knew he would be all right.
Several hours had passed when McCormick woke again and let out a shaky sigh, bringing the Judge to his side in an instant. Brushing Mark’s curls back off his forehead, he gently held his young friend’s hand. “Mark, can you hear me?”
McCormick was so weak it was an effort to blink. He slowly and carefully opened his eyes and saw the anguish in the Judge’s face. Mark turned his head, not wanting to see any more pain. Accusing words echoed in his mind. [It was his fault! He failed her!]
The Judge knew what Mark was thinking by the expression on his face and said firmly, “Mark, listen to me. None of this was your fault. We found a note on the desk. The murderer was one of my old cases-trying to get even with me for putting him away by hurting the people I love. There is no way you could have known that any of this would happen. It’s not your fault!”
Tears were streaming down Mark’s face. “Judge, I would have s…saved her if I could. When I found her, I…I couldn’t do anything but let her d…die in my arms.”
Hardcastle carefully lifted Mark up in his arms and hugged him gently. McCormick was shaking so badly that the Judge was afraid he would make his injury worse. “Calm down, son, calm down. I’ve got you and I won’t let go! I need you. I… love you, Mark! I’m so sorry Sarah was killed and you were hurt! If anyone is to blame it is me!” Mark continued to sob against Hardcastle’s shoulder until there was nothing left inside and he fell asleep from the pain and exhaustion. The Judge gently laid him back onto the pillow and covered him up. He winced at the drying tears on the young man’s face. Mark looked so fragile. Sitting down in the nearby chair, he took McCormick’s hand and held it as if to keep the world’s sorrows away. Sighing, he wondered how they would ever get through this. He had known Sarah as both a housekeeper and a friend for over twenty years. She had helped him through the death of his wife and son. He would miss her so much, and he knew Mark had grown very fond of her. There would be an emptiness in the home they had all shared…a missing piece in the “family” they had been to each other.
Hardcastle hated to leave Mark’s side, but he knew he had to start making arrangements at the funeral home and contact Sarah’s priest and friends. Frank Harper had assigned a police guard to the hospital ward until the killer was captured, but decided to remain himself by Mark’s side until Milt got back. He felt an affection and respect for the ex-con, not only because of the lieutenant’s friendship with the Judge, but also on Mark’s own account. The curly-headed young rascal had proved himself many times in dangerous cases-demonstrating a courage, determination, and loyalty to his partners to be admired, even though he had no “official” standing as a “crime fighter”. But more than that-Frank felt grateful for Mark’s expressions of friendship and emotional support toward the Judge. “Not looking to be buddies” in the beginning of their partnership, somehow it had turned into practically a mutual mental adoption as father and son. Harper knew that had been the best thing to happen to Hardcastle in a long time--ever since the tragic deaths of Nancy and Tommy. He was proud to have the both of them as friends!
When Mark woke next, he saw Frank sitting by his bed. The police lieutenant smiled at him reassuringly. “How are you feeling, Mark? Can I get you anything? Milt had to do a few errands. He will be back soon.”
Mark felt the tears well to the surface again as the memory of the shooting replayed itself in his mind. In a weak voice, he began to try and explain what happened. “Frank--I was out m…mowing the back and came in to get a drink. When I c…came in the kitchen door, I heard a loud explosion and r…ran toward the den. When I got there, I saw her lying on t…the floor. She was conscious and s…staring at me. I started to run o…over to her and was s…shot from behind!” He was gasping for breath.
“Calm down, Mark, calm down!” Harper said, concern in his eyes. “You need to rest.” But Mark wasn’t through. “I c…crawled over to her and…and took her in my arms. I was g…going to call for help, but she told me it was too l…late. She told me she had lived a full life and w…was ready to go. She told me she loved me…and to tell M…Milt she loved him! And then she was… gone.” He was sobbing hysterically. “I don’t know h…how they got on the grounds-the alarms d…didn’t go off! I never saw a strange c…car or heard anyone! Why d…didn’t I see them? I s…should have stopped them!” Just then Dr. Friedman came in to check him and, seeing McCormick’s mental state, called the nurse to bring a sedative. Mark felt the sting of a needle, and was asleep in minutes, his ragged breathing calming.
The Judge came back a few hours later. Hardcastle immediately could sense something was wrong by the grim expression on the cop’s face. Frank told him what Mark had said. [Damn!]-- the Judge hadn’t known Sarah was alive when Mark found her and spoke her last words to him. How difficult that must have been for McCormick! He looked down at his sleeping friend with pity in his heart. Mark needed him. That was his main duty now-to see to the welfare of the young man. He was responsible for him! He sighed sadly. He felt as if he was being crushed under a heavy weight of pain and regret. It was too late for Sarah! And…it had almost been too late for McCormick. All because he wasn’t there to do his job! How could he ever forget that?
The Judge stayed by McCormick’s side all night, sleeping slumped down in a chair. Mark awoke and saw the older man resting, the lines in his face deepened with worry and grief even in his slumber. McCormick’s shoulder still throbbed painfully, but all he could think of was Sarah’s last words and the look in Hardcastle’s eyes when he found them both. Mark still felt the guilt and sorrow that had tormented him since the attack. But suddenly, thoughts of Sarah turned his focus away from his mentor’s face to her last sweet smile. When he had held her fragile body in his arms, her soul had seemed to be happy and honestly content to leave this world-as if she could see a better life waiting for her-being in heaven with the people she loved. And…she didn’t want him to waste away in sorrow and pain. He owed her more than that, he decided. She would be an inspiration for him-to show caring and support to people in need. To watch over and protect those he loved-starting with Milt. He was going to try his best to make this life better for others so that he could leave this world in time with that peace and contentment she had shown him. He felt the strain of negative emotions relax their grip on him. He felt suddenly as if he had been blessed by a higher power. Closing his eyes, he let sleep wash over him again.
He woke early Wednesday to see the Judge standing over him, caressing his forehead.
“Morning, Mark. How are you feeling?”
Mark replied softly, “I’ll be all right, how are you?”
Tears stung the Judge’s eyes. “I wasn’t the one who was shot.”
“Milt, it wasn’t your fault anymore than it was mine. I realize that now. It was the perverted mind of the person who did this. Please don’t blame yourself!” McCormick thought of Sarah’s words-“…help the Judge…be strong for him…he needs and loves you.” He reached out for Hardcastle’s hand and held it tightly. “I’m still here, Judge. I won’t leave you alone.”
The jurist held on to Mark’s hand as if determined that no danger would take this friend away from him. “Thanks, kiddo,”
he whispered.
That evening, Dr. Friedman was in to check Mark. McCormick was running a slight fever due to the wound damage and inflammation. His right shoulder and chest were covered with bandages and the elbow was supported in a sling. An IV in his left arm was giving him fluids and antibiotics. He was still very weak and had little appetite, but knew the doctors would never release him to attend the funeral service on Friday if he didn’t at least try to eat something. They had had him up walking a little bit during the day, and he could use the bathroom with help.
When Frank came in to visit, Mark insisted he take the Judge home to Gulls’ Way so Hardcastle could get a decent night’s sleep. The Judge’s physical resistance was being worn down by emotional grief, and he needed to get away from the strain of watching Mark like a hawk. The police lieutenant agreed to spend the night at the estate to support the Judge and keep him from being overwhelmed by memories and the pain of the “crime scene”.
Thursday morning found the Judge back at Mark’s bedside; the two in a heated argument. Mark was stubborn-- “Judge, I am going to Sarah’s funeral tomorrow. I need to say goodbye!”
The jurist pointed a finger in the young man’s face. “No you’re not, Mark. Charlie said you will be here until that fever is gone. You’re not strong enough!”
“But Judge…I’ve got to go…”
“You’ve got to do nothing but get well!” Hardcastle countered in a stern tone, then softened his voice. “Come on, Mark. She’d understand. You lost a lot of blood…” He closed his eyes suddenly, remembering the scene in the den, then opened them in a mock glare to cover the tears. “Don’t argue with me, kiddo--you’ll never win.”
Mark didn’t say anything more--he knew the Judge was right about that at least. But, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be back where he belonged in the morning--at Gulls Way. The Judge spent a few more hours with Mark as the young man dozed, then finally went back home in the late afternoon. He had things to do to get ready for the funeral.
Thank God the police had caught the killer. Frank had heard from the station while they were eating breakfast at the estate. It took all of Hardcastle’s restraint to avoid the temptation to go down to the holding cell and choke the life out of Green, but his respect for “law and order” and the mechanisms of justice, plus his priority of caring for Mark and honoring Sarah’s memory, finally overcame the urge for vengeance. The press had a field day. Some nosy reporter happened to be at the police station when the murderer was booked and wrote a dramatic article about the convict, his vow of revenge against a famous judge, and the victims of his anger. The Judge had been approached in the hospital parking lot to “make a comment”, but the resulting quite unprintable quote caused the writer to just note that he “seemed overwhelmed with grief”.
Mark awoke about 5 a.m. Friday. He wasn’t going to miss Sarah’s funeral, no matter what Hardcase said. The Judge had brought Mark clothes for when he was ready to come home. He pulled on a pair of jeans clumsily with one hand, then reached for a t-shirt. Just then the door opened and Dr. Friedman came in. Mark grabbed ahold of his arm. “Doc, I am going to Sarah’s funeral whether you like it or not! I need to be there to say goodbye! Please let me go!”
Charlie saw the determined expression in Mark’s eyes and knew he wouldn’t be able to stop him. “All right, Mark,” he agreed, “ but you have to promise to take your medication and go right to bed after the funeral. And I want you to check back in with me on Monday! If your fever returns, you are to come back here immediately, understand?” Mark nodded.
Dr. Friedman examined him and was relieved to see his temperature was normal. The bandages on his right shoulder and chest were still in good shape and he insisted that Mark keep using the sling to take the weight of the arm off the wounds. While the prescriptions for pain pills and antibiotics were filled, and the discharge orders were being organized, the doctor helped him finish dressing. Taking McCormick to the first floor lobby in a wheelchair, he helped him into a cab. “You go home and rest, Mark. I mean it,” he emphasized. “And make sure that you phone me immediately for any severe pain, fever or bleeding. I don’t want to regret letting you go…or try to explain this to Milt later. Okay?”
McCormick grinned and shook his hand. “Thanks, Charlie. I promise.”
The cab pulled up to Gulls Way about 9 a.m. The Judge came out to see who was there and was shocked to see Mark getting out of the back seat. “Mark, what are you doing out of the hospital? You should be in bed!”
“I talked it over with Dr. Friedman, Judge. He said I could come home for the funeral if I promised to go right to bed after. Milt, I need to say goodbye! Please let me!” Tears filled his eyes.
The Judge ran over to him and helped him into the house. The cab driver realized who he was and what was happening because of the article in the paper and drove off without being paid. It was the least he could do!
Milt tucked Mark into his bed with the promise of waking him up in time for the funeral. Still weak from the injuries, McCormick fell into a deep sleep. He was awakened by the Judge around noon. The older man helped him get dressed in his best suit and climb into the pickup for the half-hour drive to the funeral home.
When they arrived there, Hardcastle gently helped Mark out of the truck. Mark was looking very pale but insisted he was fine. The memorial chapel was packed with Sarah’s family and friends from the ladies’ bible group. Lt. Harper and many of the Judge’s other friends had also come to pay their respects and support the jurist. The Judge sat in the front row
next to Sarah’s sister with McCormick on his other side, facing the several sprays of flowers and the polished oak coffin that held the treasured remains of their friend. Mark was having a hard time keeping his feelings hidden and Milt was outwardly stoic as usual, though Mark could see he was crumbling inside.
Father Hannan had known Sarah and her family for over twenty years and gave a beautiful eulogy. Toward the end of the service, he asked if anyone wanted to say anything. Hardcastle was startled to see McCormick start to rise. He supported the young man’s weight and helped him move slowly to the podium, then returned to his chair. Mark felt wobbly and a little light-headed, but he needed to do this. The Judge watched him carefully.
McCormick gripped the edge of the altar rail with his left hand and faced the guests. He swallowed hard to choke the tears down, then began to speak softly. “When I first came to Gulls Way and met Sarah I thought she was a feisty, hard lady with a steel interior. She would bark at me and give me orders. Sometimes I thought she would make a great drill sergeant.” A sweet smile crossed Mark’s face. “But, it didn’t take long for me to realize that underneath that hard shell was a softy. I remember being very touched the first time she brought me a drink when I was outside repairing the beach wall, and when she put a plate in the microwave for me because I had fallen asleep after a long day of mowing and weeding and missed dinner. Just…little things, but they meant a lot to me. No one had ever cared enough about me before to think about my comfort. She was a very compassionate, loving lady who taught me so much about life--how to look deeper into others to find the real person hiding within--about caring about the needy-about the value of family.”
He took a deep breath and straightened his back. “She taught me a lot about myself that I didn’t know, not all of it things I wanted to know, but I am better for learning the lessons. I will be forever blessed having had her be a part of my life. I will miss her, but will keep her memory locked in my heart forever! No one can take that away!” He bowed his head. “Sarah told me that she had lived a long and fulfilling life, and I know now that the best way for me to remember her is to help others all my life like she did for me!” Tears were cascading down his cheeks.
He slowly made his way back to his seat, the Judge getting up to put a comforting arm around his shoulder. There wasn’t a dry eye in the funeral home. After the service they moved to the cemetery. More words were spoken at the gravesite as Sarah was laid to rest. Milt had arranged for the Kauffmans to have dinner with him and McCormick at a local restaurant after the service to share fond memories of Sarah, but Mark felt exhausted. Hardcastle pulled Frank to the side and spoke to him quietly, asking him to take McCormick home and put him to bed. Climbing into the lieutenant’s car, Mark apologized to Elizabeth about not being well enough to go and asked her to convey his feelings and regrets to the rest of the family. “Don’t worry about it, young man,” she replied kindly. “Sarah mentioned you in her letters with affection and pride, and I think all of us can see from today’s actions what she meant. You take care of yourself and get well.”
“Get along home, kiddo-and straight to bed, ya hear,” the Judge remarked gruffly, leaning through the open car window to adjust the shoulder belt more comfortably over the bandages. “And I don’t want to hear later that you gave Frank any trouble. I’ll be home soon.”
Mark managed a weak grin. “Don’t have the energy to argue with you this time. Better enjoy it while you can.”
Hardcastle slapped the side of the sedan in affection as it took off. He smiled for the first time in a week. [Darn kid. Made him damn proud.]
Frank pulled his car up the drive of Gulls’ Way and parked by the fountain. He helped Mark get out and guided him up the stairs to the front door. Mark’s body stiffened as he passed the entrance to the den, the memory of the tragedy taking hold of him again. He shook his head. [No! He had promised Sarah to be strong. He had to take care of the Judge for her. Got to live on to help others.] Frank steered him up the stairs to the guest bedroom and helped him change into pajamas. “I’m going downstairs to make you a sandwich, Mark. I know you’ve not been very hungry lately, but you need to eat something and take your medication like the doctor ordered. Lie down now and I’ll be back in a minute.” He closed the door softly as Mark lay back against the pillows.
A few minutes later, the lieutenant reappeared with a sandwich on a small plate, a glass of tea, and Mark’s prescriptions. Frank shook out a tablet from each of the two medication bottles and held them out on his palm. “Come on, Mark, got to take these. That’s right. Now, take a bite of the food.” He watched as the young man ate slowly.
Mark looked up at the cop with warm eyes. “Frank, I want to thank you for being such a good friend to Milt and me. This is going to be very hard for the Judge to deal with. Thank you for being there for us.”
“It is my pleasure, Mark. You know you both mean a lot to me. And I know you would both be there if I needed help.”
McCormick yawned and his hand dropped slowly to the cover, still holding the sandwich. He couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. He relaxed into sleep, feeling safe and content knowing Harper was nearby. The lieutenant put the food back on the plate and pulled up the blanket over Mark, then dimmed the lights. He sat there keeping guard until Hardcastle got back home two hours later. He looked exhausted. “Frank, how is the kid?”
“He fell asleep almost as soon as we got home. He feels like he is running a low fever again. I gave him his medicine and he should sleep through the night.” He helped the Judge remove his suit coat then put a supportive hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Milt, you need to go to bed yourself. You look out on your feet. Can I do anything for you?”
“No thanks, Frank, you have helped more than I can say already.” He yawned and stretched his arms out. “You’re right, I think I will go to bed, I’m beat! Goodnight.”
Frank turned at the bedroom door and smiled. “It was a beautiful service. Sarah would have been very proud of you both!”
Hardcastle’s jaw tightened in an attempt to hold back the emotions bottled up inside, but Harper saw the truth. The Judge just nodded his head and faced away toward the bed as the door softly closed.
After Frank left the Judge locked up the house then got himself a drink. He was torn in two directions-he needed to sleep so badly, but he still was worried about McCormick. But he knew he wouldn’t be any good to Mark if he got sick. So he went to his bedroom, slowly changing into his pajamas--feeling every bit his age--then sat on the bed as memories of the past few days flashed through his mind. Before long the tears started falling. He hadn’t cried in ten years but he couldn’t stop now. The agony of having lost yet another loved one penetrated his soul. The tears were turning into sobs. [Sarah was gone! Mark had almost been killed! When did the pain stop?]
Mark awoke hearing a strange sound. He slowly eased his way out of bed and looked into the Judge’s bedroom. When he saw Hardcastle sobbing, his own heart hurt and his throat felt choked with tears. He carefully sat next to the Judge on the bed and pulled the older man into a hug with his good arm. He held him and rocked him while he cried. The Judge didn’t resist; he needed to be held and loved as much as McCormick needed to hold him. No words were spoken as the Judge finally fell into a deep sleep. Mark carefully lowered the Judge to the bed and covered him with a quilt. He looked down with affection and concern at the older man’s face--wet with the anguish and loneliness he tried so hard to hide when awake. McCormick didn’t want to leave him alone tonight. Going back to the guest bedroom, he picked up the pillows he had been using, carrying them back and propping them in the angle made by the side of Hardcastle’s bed and the nightstand, then put another on the floor to sit on. Pulling a blanket off the closet shelf and wrapping it around his body, he positioned himself carefully on the ground, leaning his left side against the soft supports.
The next morning, as sunlight was streaming through the bedroom window, the Judge opened his eyes slowly. He vaguely remembered crying himself to sleep in Mark’s arms. As his mind cleared, he started to worry about McCormick and put his feet over the side of the bed to get up. He was startled to feel something warm and soft under his feet. Looking down, he was shocked to see McCormick asleep on the floor. He knelt down immediately at his side to check him. “Mark… Mark, are you all right?” he said softly. The Judge put his hand on the young man’s forehead. It was a little warm but not too hot.
Mark felt the warm touch of the Judge’s hand. He slowly opened his eyes, gradually becoming aware of his surroundings. His bright blue eyes were filled with love. “Judge, I wanted to be here for you if you needed anything last night, and to be honest--I didn’t want to be alone either! Are you all right?” The Judge just looked at Mark with wonder and affection. He thought to himself, ‘what did I ever do for God to bring this special man into my life? Thank you Lord for sparing him!’
He carefully helped Mark off the floor. “Come on son, let’s get you back into your bed.”
They both felt a peace wash over them as if Sarah’s spirit was there.
Together they could endure anything!
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