The Panic Zone

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Emma Lane whispered a prayer for her baby son, Tyler, cooing in his car seat behind her.

Her miracle.

Over the past few days, he’d been pale and had run a fever.

“Just a little cold. Give it another twenty-four hours,” the doctor had told Emma, who had succumbed to the anxieties of being a new mother until Tyler’s illness had passed.

Now, with her worries eased, Emma smiled and reached back to adjust her son’s straps as their SUV cut across Wyoming’s rolling plains.

“Everything good?” her husband, Joe, asked as he drove.

“Everything’s good.” Emma caressed Joe’s firm shoulder, then kissed his cheek.

“What’s that for?”

“For putting up with me.”

“Do I have a choice?” He chuckled.

They gazed at the Rockies before them, a majestic reminder that some things stood forever, while others lasted no longer than a shooting star. And after what they had gone through to have Tyler, Emma took nothing for granted. Life did not come with guarantees. It was as indifferent to you as those mountains out there.

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