Andrew looked behind and knew they had to stop. Francesca’s hair was a mess, her makeup ran down her tired face, and her head was bobbing like she was about to fall asleep. He had found Sara early and left her deep in the woods. Dismounting he walked over to Francesca, he reached up to help her. She pulled on his full beard. "Where did you get this thing?"
"It grew quickly." He shrugged. He took off the full beard and mustache. He would wash the grease paint off later. "It works for what I need."
"I almost didn't recognize you, but it was your eyes that revealed your identity."
Andrew nodded and helped her down. "I walked past Katrina dressed like this once, and she didn't know a thing. In the South I dress fancy."
She looked confused. "Kat doesn't know what you do?"
Andrew shrugged again. Taking his jacket off, he put it around her shoulders. It went to her knees. Then he took off the horse’s tack. "Yes, she knows," he drawled. "Will you start a fire, Fran?"
Putting her arms in the warm coat, she frowned as she spotted something on his back. She decided to gather some sticks instead of mentioning it.
When Andrew finished, Sara came out from behind the trees. Her eyes widened at the sight of him.
Andrew just let them wonder and got the food started. "We will stay the night here. It's too late to start back now." It wasn't really but the girls needed a break.
"How long have you been doin’ this?" Francesca asked as she sat by the fire.
"Long enough," he answered.
"Your voice, how do you change it?" Francesca seemed interested in this.
"Decades of training," Andrew muttered. "You can't tell a soul what you saw today, you know that right."
Sara gasps and nodded.
Francesca shrugged. "I won't. No one would believe me anyhow."
Andrew agreed with that. To the world, he was easygoing and fun. It was a good cover. In work he was confident and could outsmart nearly anyone.
Francesca moved closer to him and muttered, "Your back. You got a cut."
Andrew looked around and couldn't see it, so he pulled up his shirt to see blood over it.
Sara gasped and turned away, hiding her face.
Andrew knew it was the scars and not the blood that made her ill. He handed Francesca the canteen and a clean rag that he had brought in case the girls got hurt. "Would you mind putting this on it? Katrina will fix it up when I get back."
Francesca hesitantly took the bottle and started to clean the wound. Her hands shook as she gently pressed the rag to it. "The scars are everywhere."
Andrew nodded. "They hurt for years. I was blessed that they didn't go deep." Not like Katrina's who still had pain.
Francesca swore. "How did you get over what they did to you?"
Francesca was gentle, but it still stung. He bit his cheek. "I had to let go of the bitterness. It only hurt me. Bitterness is like givin’ yourself poison and expectin' the other person to die."
Francesca dried the wound. "You’re lucky it didn't go that deep. I have seen worse." Taking a strip of cloth, she wrapped it around him a couple times. "If I had Katrina's dress on, I could rip some cloth off and wrap it more." She moved her leg out to where she got more comfortable. “If I did it in this dress, I wouldn’t be wearing anything."
Andrew didn't answer. She didn't need one. She was trying to flirt with him, but he wouldn't have it. When she finished, he dished out the food. As he prayed for the meal aloud he silently prayed that his girls would be free of the lies men held them in.
Chapter 20
Andrew walked into the barn because he couldn't handle the emotions in the house a second longer. Katrina kept checking on the girls to see if they would run away, while looking like she would burst into tears. Sara was angry and moody and Carlissa just kept sobbing. Izzy, while the normally calm one, was also having as bad a day as the rest of the ladies. He wondered if they had adopted a boy instead, would life be calmer? Nah, probably not.
Yesterday, when he came home, Katrina had hugged the girls for way too long,
while Izzy looked at his face and she knew where he found Francesca. He was sure it made her sick.
He remembered how Katrina sat at the table sipping coffee, glancing up at him, expecting him to tell her everything, but he couldn't. No words could describe the pain he felt. He shook his head and turned, feeling bruised all over. He hadn't felt this beaten in a long time.
Katrina stopped him. "You're bleeding."
He glanced at her concerned face, and then looked at Izzy, who also looked scared. Izzy’s eyes showed a deep sadness that only they could understand. She knew what he saw in the saloon and her awareness made him angrier. He didn’t want her to know what he had seen. No woman should have to experience a brothel or saloon. He frowned. "I’ll go change. It’s just a scratch." He walked to his room, hoping Katrina wouldn't follow. He didn't feel safe with anyone.
In his room, he dropped by the bed and washed away his pain. He shed tears for a daughter who couldn't be a child ever again. He cried out to God in his heart, to take away the hate for those men who hurt his little girl. He asked God to keep letting him love Francesca despite her mistakes and to heal him over losing Clara. He would make sure Francesca would get the chance that Clara never received.
LEAVING HIS MEMORIES he opened his eyes, he spotted Francesca mucking out her stall.
"Saddle up. I want to show you something," he told her.
She looked at him questioningly.
He nodded. "Just do it."
Francesca nodded. Her curiosity got the best of her.
In ten minutes, they were riding out of the ranch yard. When they reached the woods going up the hill, Francesca couldn't handle it anymore. "So where are we going?"
"It's a surprise," he stated.
She made a face. "I don't like surprises. They end badly for me."
He shook his head, not bothered by her. "This ain't a bad one, just trust me."
FOR THE NEXT THREE hours Francesca rode on Poder. She enjoyed moving with his gait and feeling his power. He made her feel safe though he was grumpy. She listened to the woods speak to her. She had learned a lot about the land and she came to love the beauty of it. No loud, aggressive, vile men. No smell of beer and smoke, and no sad-looking women.
Finally, they came to such a wide clearing of green grass and trees that she couldn't see to the other side. Andrew dismounted and tied Blade to a tree.
Francesca did the same, as her shaky legs followed Andrew. He walked through the trees. She caught her breath. The mountains were so high that she could see the snow that always hung on them, as well as the rolling hills spread out below. From her view, she could also see Deer Trail and Liberty Ranch in the far distance. Not taking her eyes off of the view, she leaned against a tree.
Andrew said nothing for some time. "I thought the same thing when Katrina and I saw this, the first day we got to the ranch. Julia would say it's God's most beautiful canvas."
Francesca looked down as she moved her booted foot along the rock and sighed. "So much beauty and evil in the same place."
Andrew nodded. "We humans make a mess of this life, that is for sure." He chose his words carefully. "Francesca, look at me."
She obeyed, feeling uncomfortable.
"Why did you run away?" he asked gently.
She flinched and shrugged. "I don't know."
"Yes, you do." He urged again, "Why?"
She looked out at the mountains. She didn't want to talk about it with him.
"Answer me, Francesca."
She glared at the mountains and her mouth set in a firm line, saying nothing.
"You know why I think you ran away? Because you are afraid that we won't love you when we find out what you have done. Or is it that you are afraid that a man from the past will come and make our life hard?"
Francesca's eyes flew to him. How did he know that?
"I am right?" Andrew knew he was. "Darlin,' why would we hold it against
you when Jesus doesn't? We love you. What can we do to prove we love you and always will?"
Francesca glared at him. "You think my past wouldn't matter in your eyes." She swore. "You gotta be lying to yourself."
"No, child, I am not. I am trustin’ in Jesus to show me how to love you properly. To show you real love." Andrew walked a little closer and leaned against a tree. He acted like he didn't have a care in the world.
Francesca glared at him. "You think you love me. You don't know me. I have been hiding like I always do."
"You might hide your true self, but I want to know who you are." He cleared his throat. "You can't keep running away. I will come after you forever, but there will come a day where I can't bring you home. It has to be your choice."
Francesca frowned. "I heard that your parents always went after you."
He nodded. "They came after us. However, when I ran they didn’t come after me because it was too dangerous and I knew it."
She looked out at the view. She couldn't take much more of this.
"I kept goin’ back to my old life because it was what I was used to. The feeling of family and havin’ a mother scared me more than danger. Ellen prayed for me every day. Ben visited when he could. But it was my choice, and I was makin’ stupid decisions. I had never been so unhappy." His eyes were moist. "Finally, a little blond mute girl gave me something."
"Katrina?" Francesca was sure of it as she watched him.
Andrew shook his head. He went back to the horses and came back with saddlebags. He took what looked like a picture. "Julia is the sweetest little mute girl I have ever met. She never said much, but she handed me this picture and told me two words — come home."
Francesca took the picture. It was beautiful drawing of all the Starry children. She could see they looked like the ones she had met. The edge of the paper looked like something had burned it. The frame and glass looked new. "Who drew this?"
"My eleven-year-old sister, Julia."
Francesca looked up at him in shock.
"Yup." He smiled. "She was good even then. She is the one who got me to come home with those two small words. It took me a while to become a Christian."
She gave him an amused hard look. "Why? Were you just being stubborn like every other Starry?"
He chuckled. "Probably. But I think it was because we needed time to understand what God did for us. We had to come at our own time and not be pressured into it. It needed to be us wanting it and not our parents doing it for us."
She raised an eyebrow. "You don't think you are pressuring us girls to believe?"
He shook his head. "We are trying not to. What Kat and I want to show you is that God loves you. He died for you and wants to heal you." He frowned. "We might have been too stubborn to believe God at first too, but it hurt us by not trustin’ Him."
Francesca handed the picture back. "God would shut me out if I went to Him with my sins."
Andrew shook his head in disagreement. "No, my child. He knows about your sins already. He loves you despite knowing them. I know what it’s like to be afraid of not being enough in front of good people and a perfect, loving God. All it takes is trusting Him. He will make you a new person on the inside."
"It can't be that easy, nothing is that easy." Francesca shook her head and looked away into the woods.
Andrew shook his head. "But it is that easy. God did the hard stuff for us, He paid that price."
Francesca shook a little. "No, if He knew what I have done. How used up I am."
Andrew stood in front of her, not touching her. "Honey, Jesus knows all those inappropriate situations men put you in. He also gives you the grace to handle the memories of that time. He loved you before you were in your mother's womb. He will always love you, child."
Francesca fell to her knees and cried out, "Where was He when I went through hell? Where was He when a man took me at seven? Where was He when I was sold at eleven? Where was He when the matron took my babies from my body!" She held her stomach where her babies were ripped from her. Her heart split open.
ANDREW KNEELED BY HER, being careful how he touched her. She might shrink back more. His heart cried out to her, "He was right there and His heart was breakin’ with you, child. He was there through it all. He never stopped lovin’ you and being there. He sent you to me. He gave me a daughter I always prayed for." Tears ran down his face. "I love you so much, Francesca."
Francesca glared at him. "How can you feel anything for me when you know what I am?"
Andrew took a chance and took her small hands in his large ones. "I know who you are. You are my daughter. And you are the daughter of the Kings of kings and Lord of lords. You love to cook, you have learned to ride like an angel, you are funny, honest, and you say whatever pops into that pretty head of yours. I love all those things about you. That is who Francesca Starry is to me."
Francesca stared at him in shock. He was crying for her. She had never had someone cry for her, not anyone. She had never felt so valuable and open. It was an unfamiliar feeling and she hated it. Her voice was hard. "You will see one day you are wrong."
Andrew showed he loved her with his eyes. "No, daughter. You will see I am right."
Chapter 21
Katrina woke up listening to Andrew softly snore beside her. Dressing in a light, navy blue dress with frills at the bottom, she tied her hair into a tight bun as she made her way to the kitchen. Starting the first pot of coffee for the day, she thought, Today might go as bad as yesterday.
Carlissa had a “terror,” which is what Katrina called it. It had happened right before supper and lasted till long after bedtime. Katrina still wore the bruise on her cheek from Carlissa's elbow. Andrew had not been happy about it, but Katrina did not know what to do next. She just wanted help for them. Maybe she could go to Mabel's and see if she could get advice, though Andrew had not wanted to get help from them. Wasn't that why they built the ranch, to get help from others and to help others? She knew his reluctance to ask for help had to do with their pasts. She didn't know how to help him get over what Frank did to them. Normally she would talk to Ellen about it. Consequently, Katrina still ached to talk to her just one more time.
She saw her old leather Bible on the kitchen table. The beloved book had her name on the cover in gold. She treasured this book given to her by Ellen for her twelfth birthday. She felt guilty she hadn't had time to read it like she should. Ellen had always found the time. Sitting down to read, she knew only God could heal her girls. She certainly couldn't do it. After reading five chapters of Proverbs it made her feel like she could be a parent.
Then she started up donuts and sourdough biscuits. She always enjoyed sweet food. She glanced behind her to see Carlissa walk in the kitchen with her hair ruffled, eyes puffy, and telling Katrina she was about to take on the world.
Katrina sighed on the inside. She should have read the whole Bible, and then maybe she could do this parenting thing right.
Carlissa was worse in the mornings and before almost every meal. Katrina did not know why. She had been trying to watch her girls, to see what made them tick or react. She had come up with nothing, but she wasn't one to give up without a fight. This was a fight she would win. She prayed she would. "Good morning, sweetie," she said cheerfully.
Carlissa grunted to indicate she didn't agree with it being a good morning.
Katrina made sure Carlissa could not touch anything on the stove. In the morning, Carlissa would just grab whatever food was in sight and it was normally hot. This was another behavior she did not understand about Carlissa.
Turning back to put the donuts in the pan, she cracked eggs into a bowl. "If you set the table, girls, then breakfast will be ready in a few minutes. I made some special things this morning." She knew neither girl had tasted donuts before. Another thing she would explain at breakfast. Almost everything they ate was a new experience. She had eaten horrible food in the orphanages. Asylum food had to be so much worse.
Sara obeyed silently.
>
Carlissa folded her arms and pulled her legs apart from each other like she couldn't move. "I don't want to, Ma. I want to eat now!"
Katrina turned to see Sara had stopped working and planted her feet like she was ready for a fight. Often Sara would play off what the other girls felt. That is why she tried to keep Francesca away from them. She looked at Sara. "Set the table now, Carlissa, you will help," she tried again.
Sara obeyed and got out the silverware, slamming them down on the table, but she did it.
Carlissa stood there.
Katrina didn't know how to get her youngest daughter to obey. "Carlissa, I need you to help or you will have to wait to eat breakfast."
Carlissa's eyes rolled back in her head, which Mabel had told her was a brain issue, and Katrina knew what was coming. Carlissa threw herself on the ground and pretended to scream. Katrina ignored her like she had in the past, but then Carlissa took her nails and dug them into her own skin. Katrina took the girl into her arms. Sitting on the ground, Katrina put her legs around her daughter's legs to keep from being kicked.
An hour later, as Carlissa continued screaming, Katrina thought she would lose her mind. She ached from hunger and her ears felt like they were on fire. Katrina’s arms were wearing out, her back was killing her as she rested against a cabinet, and her legs had gone numb. Carlissa hadn't worn down one bit. She sounded like she could go on forever and never wear out her body or voice.
Sara, Izzy, and Francesca had eaten breakfast while Katrina dealt with Carlissa. Sara, after eating a few donuts, raved about them. She was calm. Like this altercation with Carlissa was normal. Katrina prayed this would not continue to be normal.
Katrina looked at Andrew. He looked like he wanted to do something. He was a man of action. He was used to fixing problems. This problem was not easily corrected, and he felt helpless. Katrina muttered low, "Go get Doc. Maybe there is a medical issue."
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