As if reading Nathaniel’s thoughts, Leon spoke again. “The good Lord works out our circumstances in ways we don’t always understand, but they’re His ways, nevertheless. We aren’t to question. Why, if things hadn’t happened the way they did, Florrie wouldn’t be here helpin’ us out. I hear the other young lady who traveled with you is helpin’ out at the Rutledges. And now here you sit, keepin’ me company.” A smile pulled at the corners of Leon’s mouth. “Who can say God’s hand didn’t bring the three of you here to Tucker’s Gap?”
The reference to Abby stirred feelings he still wasn’t certain how to define. Dare he indulge in such speculation? No, not while his name was still sullied. Besides, being burned once by a woman’s affections was enough.
Mercy still stood in the doorway. “Leon, Nathaniel said he’s going to make you some crutches so you can get around a little easier.”
“You don’t say. Well, that’s mighty neighborly of you, son.”
Nathaniel glanced over his shoulder. “Mrs. Tucker, if you’ll bring some string, we’ll measure Leon’s length so I’ll know how tall to make the crutches.”
Mercy bustled out of the room and returned a minute later with a length of string. They held the string from Leon’s armpit to his heel and snipped it off. Nathaniel stuffed the string in his pocket. “I should have those crutches done in a few days.”
The two men shook hands, and Nathaniel left Leon to rest. On his way out, he stopped to speak to Florrie.
She folded lengths of toweling as they chatted. “Wasn’t it nice of Abby to offer to teach the children?”
Warmth rippled through Nathaniel’s chest. “Very nice. You know, I can’t get over the change in her. At the beginning of the journey, I thought she was self-centered and arrogant.”
Florrie cut her gaze in his direction. “She was angry with her father for making her leave the fort. She doesn’t care for living in Raleigh.”
Nathaniel stroked his chin. “Really? I figured by the way she carried on over the loss of her trunks that she set much store by her fancy city clothes and female frills.”
“Oh, goodness no.” Florrie chuckled. “Not Abby. She’d far rather have stayed at the fort.” She sighed.
“Is that right?” Puzzlement made him pause. “Why was she so touchy about her trunks?”
Florrie folded another towel and added it to the stack. “I suppose you’d have no way of knowing. The few keepsakes she has of her mother’s are in one of her trunks. She told me about them. A brooch, a handkerchief, a lace collar, and her mother’s hairbrush. Those things are more precious to Abby than anything else she lost when the wagon went over the ravine.”
Nathaniel grimaced. To think he’d accused her of being shallow and peevish when her heart was breaking at the loss of the last connection she had with her mother. He had to find a way to retrieve those trunks.
He bid Florrie good day, and as he exited he caught sight of a small boy crouching behind a barrel on the porch. Whatever was the lad doing back there? He paused and took a step backward to get a better look. The boy clutched something in his fist and shoved his hand behind his back.
Nathaniel moved sideways to stand directly in front of the barrel, cutting off the youngster’s escape.
“All right, come on out of there.”
A young boy about seven years old with tousled blond hair and a sprinkling of freckles slowly rose to stand. “I didn’t do nothin’, mister.”
“Really?” Nathaniel bent so he was eyeball to eyeball with the child. “What are you hiding behind your back?”
The boy’s bottom lip began to tremble. “N–nothin’.”
Nathaniel arched one eyebrow. “The truth?”
A fat tear made its way down the child’s cheek. Nathaniel reached in and took the boy’s hand in his. “Let’s sit and have a talk.”
Nathaniel steered the boy to the far end of the porch and sat on the edge with his legs dangling over the side. He patted the space beside him and the boy complied, eyeing Nathaniel warily.
“My name’s Nathaniel.”
The boy rubbed a grubby fist under his nose. “I’m Davy Pruitt.”
“What are you hiding, Davy?”
Davy opened his fingers to reveal broken pieces of hard candy sticks stuck to his sweaty palm.
Exactly what Nathaniel thought. “Did you pay Mrs. Tucker for that candy?”
Davy didn’t answer.
Nathaniel narrowed his eyes at the boy. “I suspect the answer is no. Otherwise you wouldn’t have been hiding behind the barrel. Right?”
Davy sniffed and nodded. “Are you gonna put me in jail?”
Nathaniel tried to hide his smile. “Well now, taking something that doesn’t belong to you is stealing, even if it’s just candy.”
Davy’s blue eyes widened, and his chin began to quiver. “I don’t wanna go to jail.”
Nathaniel bit his lip as he slipped his arm around Davy’s shoulders. “I don’t want you to go to jail either. That’s why we’re talking about this.” He shifted his weight and turned sideways, pulling one knee up onto the porch. “Davy, when I was your age, I didn’t always do right. The preacher who raised me told me something that I never forgot. He said a real man, one who loves God, will do right even when no one is looking. Do you know why?”
The solemn expression on Davy’s face told Nathaniel the boy was listening. “‘Cause iffen he don’t, he won’t go to heaven?”
“Going to heaven is another matter.” Nathaniel clasped his hands. “A man who loves God wants to do right because God has changed his heart. So pleasing God is very important. If other people watch the way the man lives, they will know that man belongs to God just by the way he acts.” He paused to give Davy time to digest the words.
“I want to belong to God.”
This time Nathaniel didn’t try to stop the smile from filling his face. “He wants to be your God, and He wants you to be His child.”
“But I already have a pa. My pa works at the sawmill.” Davy lowered his lashes. “I don’t got a ma, though.”
“Davy, you’ll always be your pa’s boy. But God wants to be your heavenly Father. He loves you, but He’s disappointed when you do wrong things, just like your pa.”
The tears welled in Davy’s eyes again. “Are you gonna tell my pa I took the candy?”
“No.” Nathaniel laid his hand on Davy’s shoulder. “That’s something I think you should do. But there is someone else you need to tell first.”
Davy’s bottom lip pooched out. “Who?”
Nathaniel cupped Davy’s chin and waited until the boy looked him in the eye. “An honorable man admits when he’s made a mistake. Whom did you steal the candy from?”
“Mrs. Tucker.” Davy looked toward the door of the general store.
“What do you reckon she’ll do?”
“I don’t know, but I think she’d appreciate if you’d go in there and tell her the truth. It takes a real man to do something like that.”
“But I ain’t a man yet. I’m only seven.”
Nathaniel smiled and bent his head closer to Davy. “Doing the right thing is how you get to be a man—the kind of man who lives to please God.”
Davy pursed his lips and cast an uneasy glance toward the door. “Will you go with me?”
Nathaniel got to his feet and helped Davy up. “No.” He patted Davy’s shoulder. “I think you’re man enough to handle this on your own.” He ruffled Davy’s hair. “But I will pray with you before you go in.” He lowered himself to one knee and draped his arm around Davy, bowing his head.
Abby stood hidden by the thick bushes near Tucker’s General Store. She’d watched Nathaniel sit down at the edge of the porch with a little boy she remembered from church, but she was unprepared for Nathaniel’s wise words to the child. The godly character evidenced in Nathaniel belied her father’s harsh opinion of him. Only a man of honor could teach a child how to be honorable.
As Nathaniel finished praying with the boy an
d nudged him toward the door, Abby swallowed back the lump that had formed in her throat. She waited until Nathaniel departed toward the livery before she stepped out from behind the bush and followed the boy into the store.
She found Mercy Tucker bent at the waist, listening to the lad stammer out his confession. He hung his head and shuffled his bare feet on the floor. Abby remained to one side. Would Mercy’s reaction reflect her name?
“Well, Davy, I’m very glad you came in and told me what you did. That took a lot of courage.” She lifted his chin. “I hope you won’t ever steal anything ever again.”
Davy shook his head. “I won’t. I promise. And I’m really, really sorry.”
Mercy straightened. “I believe you, Davy, and I forgive you.”
Abby’s throat tightened. Playing out before her was a portrayal of God’s love and grace. How many times had He wanted to pour out that same grace on her, if only she’d come to Him like this little child?
Mercy brushed Davy’s hair back. “Being sorry and being forgiven doesn’t mean you don’t have to pay for the candy.”
Davy looked up at her. “But I ain’t got no money.”
Mercy arched her eyebrows. “I see. Well, how about you do some chores in exchange for the candy?”
“What kind of chores?”
One corner of Mercy’s mouth tipped up. “I think sweeping is a good way to pay for the candy.” She pointed behind the counter. “Take that broom over there and sweep out the store.”
Davy gave her a gap-toothed grin. “Yes’m.” He scampered over to get the broom.
“Abby, is there something I can get for you?”
She blinked back the threatening tears and held out the envelope in her hand. “I need to mail this.”
Mercy took the letter and glanced at the address. “Fort New Echota. Your father?”
Chapter 10
Miss Abby, can we go out and play games?”
Abby sat back on her heels and brushed her forearm across her brow. “After I finish scrubbing the floor, Beau. Have you finished filling the woodbox?”
He peered into the box beside the fireplace. “It’s almost fulled up.”
“It needs to be all the way full. Now scoot and get it done. Then we can play.”
The child waved to his mother who was propped up in bed in the corner and trotted out the door.
Beth rubbed her hand over her swollen belly. “You do have a way with that boy. I usually have to threaten him with a switch to get him to mind me.”
Abby chuckled. “He reminds me of me at that age.” She paused to study Beth’s pale complexion and the dark circles under her eyes. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Oh, I’m fine.” The weariness in her tone belied her words. “I didn’t sleep much last night. This little one kept kicking me awake.”
Warmth rose up into Abby’s face. “It must be a wondrous thing to carry a new life inside you.” The heat intensified, and she ducked her head. “Maybe I shouldn’t speak such things.”
“Oh, I don’t mind.” Beth’s quick response caused Abby to raise her eyes to her friend.
A tiny chagrined smile tweaked her lips. “I always wanted to be a big sister, but my mother died when I was quite young. Father never remarried, and he sent me to stay with my spinster aunt a great deal of the time.” Abby tipped her head to one side. “The Bible says we are fearfully and wonderfully made. I used to imagine what it might be like to have my mother share such miraculous things with me.”
A rosy blush stole into Beth’s cheeks, accenting her dimple when she smiled. “’ Tis a miracle, for sure.”
Beau returned with an armload of sticks, ending their conversation. Abby directed him to walk where she hadn’t yet scrubbed the floor.
“After you dump that firewood in the box, you and Dulcie each find a good writing stick and practice your letters until I come outside.” The boy scampered out the door.
“Speaking of letters—” Beth raised her eyebrows. “Have you written your father and aunt?”
Abby scoured another floorboard. “Yes, I wrote both of them, but I think I might go over to Tucker’s and get the letter to my father before the mail is picked up.”
“Why?”
A dirty spot by the worktable drew Abby’s scrub brush. “I’ve been having second thoughts about what I wrote to him. I spent most of last night thinking I shouldn’t have told him where I am, just that I’ve been delayed.”
She finished the last of the floor and rose from her knees. “My father isn’t like most fathers. He finds fault with everything I do.” She tossed the dirty water out the door. “Even when I was a child he said he didn’t know what to do with me. The morning we left the fort he told me I was petulant and incorrigible.”
Dropping the scrub brush inside the empty bucket, Abby turned to face Beth. “When he finds out where I am, I’m afraid he’ll send a detachment to fetch me and take me to Raleigh.”
“Oh my.” Obvious distress rang in Beth’s voice. “The baby isn’t due for a couple more months. Do you think he’d make you leave before then?”
Abby crossed the newly scrubbed floor to the bed and took Beth’s hand. “That’s why I want to go and get my letter. I made you a promise and I intend to keep it.”
A weak smile wobbled across Beth’s face. “You’ve been such a godsend. I don’t know what I would have done—”
Abby hushed her. “You get some rest. After I pick up my letter, the children and I will be outside working on their letters and numbers. I’ll peek in to see if you need anything.”
“A couple of miners came through here yesterday, Abby. They picked up the mail on their way to Auraria.”
Florrie’s words twisted Abby’s stomach. “My letter to Father is already gone?”
“I’m afraid so.” Florrie measured out coffee beans. “Why did you want it back?”
Abby blew out a sharp breath. “Because in the letter I mentioned Tucker’s Gap. Last night I realized I shouldn’t have told him where I was.” She gripped the edge of the counter with both hands and leaned closer, not wishing the children to overhear. “I am not leaving here until Beth has her baby and can manage on her own.”
Florrie weighed a scoop of cornmeal. “Did you explain your promise to Beth in your letter?”
“Yes, but I doubt Father will care.” She heaved a sigh. “How could I have been so foolish as to tell him I was in Tucker’s Gap?” She scuffed her shoe on the wide floorboards. “What am I going to do if he sends a regiment here?”
“It’s doubtful he’ll send a regiment.” Florrie patted her hand. “Abby, it’s done. The letter is sent. Fretting over it won’t bring the letter back.” She came around the side of the counter. “My suggestion is to take the entire matter to the Lord. Certainly you must have prayed over the decision to remain here and help Beth, didn’t you?”
“I—I—” Abby brought her clasped hands up to her forehead.
“Didn’t you? Abby?”
Abby dropped her hands to her sides and hung her head. “No.” Shame rippled through her, and memories of Father’s condemnation pointed accusing fingers. If she couldn’t please her earthly father, how did she expect to please her heavenly Father? Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I didn’t pray. Beth needed help, and before I knew what was happening, I offered.” She raised her eyes. “Florrie, why can’t I learn to pray before I act? God must be so disappointed in me.”
Florrie brushed a few stray hairs from Abby’s face. “Oh, my dear, God is most loving and forgiving. And He doesn’t hold grudges. It’s never too late to pray.”
“Wise counsel, madam.”
Florrie and Abby turned in unison toward the door where a gentleman in travel-worn garb stood. His white beard and thick eyebrows gave him a grandfatherly appearance, and his cloudy gray eyes spoke of compassion. He pulled off his battered black hat.
“I’m Reverend Winslow. I don’t believe you ladies were here when I was last in Tucker’s Gap.” He slapped h
is hat against his pant leg, sending dust motes flying in every direction.
Abby tried to swallow the knot in her throat, wondering how much of her confession the itinerant preacher heard. Florrie welcomed the man like she’d known him all her life.
“Pastor Winslow.” She stepped toward him and held out her hand. “I’ve heard a great deal about you. I’m Mrs. Florrie Cobb, and this is Miss Abigail Locke.”
Abby remembered her manners and followed Florrie’s example. “Pastor.”
“Miss Locke. Mrs. Cobb. I’m pleased to meet you.” The crow’s-feet at the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, but the slump of his shoulders bespoke his weariness. “I met a young fellow at the livery who told me ya’ll were new in town.” A tiny frown edged its way into his brow. “I understand Leon Tucker has met with an accident.”
“Pastor Winslow, is that you?” Mercy pushed aside the curtain and stepped into the store. “I thought I recognized your voice. Leon’s been itchy for three days waiting for you to arrive. He said something about beating you at checkers.”
The preacher tipped his head back and laughed. “That sly fox isn’t going to beat me this time. I’ve been practicing.”
Abby decided she liked the elderly preacher. She gathered her purchases into the basket. “I need to get back and check on Beth. It was nice meeting you, Pastor.”
As she turned to call the children, she collided with a man who’d just entered the store. “Oh! I’m so sorry.” She looked up into the face of Teague Jackson.
His lips pulled back away from his yellowed teeth into a leering grin. “Miss Locke.” He tugged on the brim of his hat.
Heat scorched her ears. “How clumsy of me. I apologize.”
Piercing black eyes explored her face and drifted downward. “No harm done.”
“Mr. Jackson.” Pastor Winslow offered his hand. “Might I convince you to attend services tomorrow?”
Teague pulled his gaze away from Abby and turned to face the preacher. One corner of his mouth lifted in a half smirk. “Don’t usually have time for church, but,” he cast his glance sideways at Abby, “I might be there.”
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