Walk By Faith. Rosanne Bittner

me you’re no heathen at all, Mr. Clements. In the meantime, I will pray for your safe journey, and for your soul. Christ will find his way back into your life somehow.”

      Dawson pulled his hand away, looking very uncomfortable at the remark. “Save your prayers for those who deserve them, Mr. Harvey.” He turned to Clarissa, looking her over in a way that told her he appreciated her figure. “Thank you for your good nursing skills, ma’am. I have business to tend to, so I’ll be going.”

      Clarissa folded her arms. “You should stay and rest a while, Mr. Clements.”

      “You know what they say—no rest for the wicked, or something like that.”

      Clarissa grabbed a roll of bandages. “At least take this with you, and keep your promise to put clean bandages on that leg, or I won’t sleep at night for worrying about it. I gather that wherever you go you’ll have plenty of whiskey on hand.”

      This time he laughed out loud, taking the bandages. It was a nice, deep laugh, and his teeth were white and straight. He had a nice mouth. “Yes, ma’am, you’re right about that.”

      In spite of his smile, Clarissa still saw a deep sadness somewhere behind those blue eyes. “You promised Sophie a hug before you left, Mr. Clements.”

      “Oh, yeah, I guess I did. Well, tell her to come down here.”

      He limped toward the door as Clarissa called for Sophie. The little girl came down the stairs as fast as a three-year-old could make the steps. She ran up to him with her arms open, and Dawson leaned over. “Honey, I can’t kneel down to you. My leg hurts too much.”

      Sophie reached up, and Dawson lifted her, giving her a hug. She kissed his cheek. “Will you come back?”

      “No, little lady. Your mother fixed me all up.”

      “She’s a noose!”

      “I know. And I think she’s a very good nurse.” Dawson set her down.

      “Bye!” she said, giving him a smile that would melt any heart.

      “Goodbye, Sophie. And you remember that what happened was just an accident and wasn’t your fault.”

      “Okay.” Sophie turned to Lena and the two girls giggled.

      Dawson tipped his hat to Clarissa. “Thanks again, ma’am.” He eyed Michael and Carolyn. “And to both of you for opening your home to me. I’m sorry if I offended you with my remarks about preachers and all that.”

      “God be with you, Mr. Clements,” Michael answered. “You will be in our prayers, whether you like it or not.”

      Dawson sobered. “If you want to waste your time on me, that’s your decision.” He turned and left, and Clarissa walked to the door to watch him gingerly mount his black gelding. He hesitated a moment, probably waiting for the pain in his leg to subside, then rode off.

      “What a strange man,” Clarissa commented.

      “Indeed,” Michael added.

      “And quite handsome, too, don’t you think?” Carolyn teased.

      Michael chuckled. “Not exactly the God-fearing kind,” he said, shaking his head.

      “No.” Clarissa still watched him as he disappeared around a corner. “Why do I feel like what happened today is some kind of—I don’t know—like it was meant to happen?”

      “God works in strange ways, His miracles to perform,” Carolyn answered. “Maybe Michael planted a seed today that will grow in that man’s heart.”

      And maybe it’s more than that, Clarissa mused. She quickly chastised herself for the silly thought and turned away from the door. “I have my deed!” she said then with a smile. “And we have a lot of shopping and packing to do, so let’s get at it!” She called the girls from the kitchen, fighting the secret thought that if they could get to Independence within ten days, perhaps they could travel with Dawson Clements after all.

      The Lord will protect you from all danger;

      He will keep you safe.

      He will protect you as you come and go,

      Now and forever.

      —Psalms 121:7-8

      Chapter Five

      April 30, 1863

      The congregation of people from all walks of life at Independence was far bigger than Clarissa expected. Ages ranged from the very old to the very young and everything in between. The combination of free land and wanting to get away from the war was all these people needed to spur them on.

      The atmosphere was both exciting and intimidating. Children, chickens and dogs ran everywhere, and in the distance livestock grazed. As she and Carolyn and Michael walked among the host of wagons, oxen, horses and people, they noticed with great relief that most travelers were families. Still, a few men were camped here without families, some in groups, some by themselves. Several looked questionable in nature, and last night an ugly fistfight had taken place, spawned by an argument over the war and who was right or wrong. One man actually pulled a gun, but another had knocked it out of his hand.

      Clarissa had not given thought to danger from the travelers themselves. Indians and the elements were enough to worry about. Because of the confusion that abounded, and the mix of people gathered here, she kept Sophie close, afraid she’d never find her if the child ran off. “I’m so glad I’m going with you and Michael,” she told Carolyn. The three of them, and their daughters, walked among those gathered here, learning all they could about who was leaving when and who would guide them. “I don’t think I’d have the courage to do this alone.”

      “Yes, you would. You’re a brave woman for even going with us,” Michael assured her, “with no husband and no guarantee of what you will do when you reach Montana.”

      “I’ll help you build a ranch. That will keep me plenty busy for quite some time,” Clarissa answered with a smile. She noticed that some wagons carried pianos, grandfather clocks, fine furniture and the like, and she had to wonder if they would make it through the mountains with such huge loads. Word was, it was foolish to cart such things along.

      “I didn’t think we’d find all this chaos,” Carolyn commented. “Most of these people don’t seem to know quite what they’re doing.”

      “Maybe we should look up Dawson Clements,” Michael suggested. “He seems like a man who’d know what he was about when it comes to traveling west, since he’s done so before and served out there with the army.”

      “He’s terribly rough around the edges,” Clarissa commented. “And I’m not so sure he’d want a preacher along.”

      “That’s not his decision,” Michael answered. “I am sure the families headed west would appreciate having a preacher along, and most likely find need of one, with all the calamities that can take place. That was quite a list of possible troubles Mr. Clements rattled off to us a couple of weeks ago.”

      “I have a feeling he’s a man who looks for the worst side of everything,” Clarissa answered.

      “You’ve been thinking about him, haven’t you?” Carolyn said with a sly grin.

      Clarissa shrugged. “Some, mostly because he seemed like such a lonely, troubled man.”

      “That he did,” Michael added. “I’ve been praying for him.”

      Their conversation was interrupted when they heard someone crying loudly, as though in pain. Clarissa gasped with horror when to her left she saw a man beating a young boy of perhaps ten years old with a belt at the rear of a wagon.

      “I’ll teach you to obey what I tell you!” the man roared.

      The boy cringed and wept, covering his head with his hands and begging the man to stop.