The Journey Home. Linda Ford

place he’d vowed to leave behind forever.

      Chapter Four

      It took all Charlotte’s self-control to keep from wailing with frustration and fear. A miracle? An answer to prayer? It certainly wasn’t either in her estimation. She’d prayed for rescue, someone to offer her a home. The only person to do so was a half-breed. And Lother. She shuddered. She’d as soon sit on the step of Harry’s empty house and wait to die of thirst as marry that man. Of the two, Kody seemed slightly less undesirable. At least he only wanted to escort her to his parents’. Or so he said. God, I know You can’t plan for me to ride out with this man. Please send someone else before he returns.

      Why couldn’t some young mother needing help come along and see her? She’d willingly care for babies in exchange for a safe place to live. Or why couldn’t an older couple shuffle by, the woman all crippled up and in pain and needing someone to run and fetch for her? Charlotte would put up with any amount of crankiness if it meant a roof over her head. Hadn’t she been doing so for years, catering to Nellie’s demands? And for what? To be thrown out or left behind at the slightest whim? God was in control. She knew that, but sometimes she found it hard to see how things could work out for good. But wasn’t that when trust came in? When she couldn’t comprehend circumstances?

      Wait on the Lord. Wait and see His deliverance. She wished she could read the Bible and find appropriate words of comfort, but Harry had taken it with him.

      She sat, waiting expectantly, until her skin began to twitch.

      But the platform remained empty. So she trudged back to the store and made arrangements for the mail. Every step carried a prayer for God to intervene. No miracle occurred on her way to the store or her way back, and she resumed her position on the bench, pleading with God to do something. Surely there were people who would welcome her help in exchange for a warm corner to sleep in.

      “Psst.” The soft noise pulled her attention to the far end of the station, to a small cluster of trees where Kody waited. “Let’s get out of here.”

      She didn’t want to get out; she wanted to stay. She held her breath, praying for God to provide in the next two seconds something—someone—posing less risk than the man waiting for her.

      Nothing.

      Seems God had narrowed her choice down to this one option. Perhaps she’d displeased God, too, and He chose to ignore her. She pushed to her feet, taking her time about gathering her things, waiting for God to bestow better, praying with every breath. God, help me. I trust You, even though things don’t look good right now.

      Slowly she crossed the platform, her shoes thudding hollowly on the worn wood, the dusty air catching at her throat. She paused to glance in the window, saw Mr. Sears at the wicket. He looked up, saw her and turned away dismissively.

      “Hurry,” Kody whispered.

      The way he glanced about him sent warning skitters along the surface of her skin. “Why?” She spoke the word aloud, albeit softly.

      “You’re a white woman, I’m a half-breed. Need I say more?”

      Caught up in his suspicions, she glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one saw her and then picked up her pace.

      Kody took Harry’s rifle, her bedroll and carpetbag—all her worldly possessions—and hung them neatly from the saddle, then helped her onto the old black mare he’d found somewhere.

      Her doubts intensified. What did she know about this man apart from his own words? “Where’d you get the horse?”

      He crossed his arms over his chest and stared up at her, his eyes hidden under the rim of his hat. “You figure I stole her?”

      Her ears stung with heat that her caution had sounded accusing. She averted her gaze. “Just asking.”

      Kody grunted. “It might ease your mind to know I bought her fair and square from the livery barn. The owner seemed quite willing to part with her. He’s running low on feed.”

      At his words a release of tension left Charlotte’s spine weak. She didn’t care to think the law would be after them.

      Charlotte studied her mount—thin and probably as hungry as she was. She patted the mare’s neck soothingly.

      Kody pulled out of the trees and into the street, drew back as a truck putt-putted past, then flicked the reins and continued.

      Charlotte started to follow, but when he headed away from the town to the north, her heart kicked in alarm. Did he expect her to follow him to Canada without protest? She pulled on the reins and turned the mare down Main Street. “Favor is to the south,” she muttered.

      Kody kicked Sam in the ribs and bolted to her side. “You can’t ride through town.”

      “Why not? I’m a free woman. I’ve broken no laws.”

      He reached for her reins, but she jerked away from him.

      “Again, I remind you, you’re a white woman, I’m a—”

      “So you said. But I am not riding north with you.”

      Kody grunted and fell back to her horse’s rear. He pulled his hat lower over his face. “You’re going to regret this,” he murmured as he followed.

      Charlotte kept her thoughts to herself, but she didn’t intend to regret riding north when relief lay to the south, nor did she intend to ride out without giving God one more chance to send an alternative to riding into the unknown with a dark stranger.

      As they traveled the three-block length of the street, Mrs. Williams stepped into view. The woman cleaned and cooked for Pastor Jones. Surely this was God’s answer. The good Mrs. Williams would offer sanctuary to a stranded young woman. Charlotte edged her horse closer to the sidewalk and called out a greeting.

      “Charlotte, how are you doing?”

      “I’m actually in need of shelter. Harry has moved and until he sends for me, I am homeless. Perhaps you’ll allow me to stay with you. I could find a job and provide for myself. I just need a place to sleep.”

      “I don’t see how you could find work when hundreds of men are unemployed, and besides, with my husband being sick…” The older woman shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

      Charlotte nodded. “Thank you, anyway.” She edged the horse back into the street, muttering to herself, “I wouldn’t be in her way at all.”

      Kody grunted. “Times are hard.”

      Right then, Lother stepped out of the hotel. Charlotte shuddered as Lother glanced past her to Kody.

      “You. Injun. What are you doing following my woman? Leave her alone.” He waved his arms like he shooed chickens into the henhouse.

      Kody didn’t answer but said softly to Charlotte, “Make up your mind. Either ride on or stay with him.”

      “Some choice.” She nudged her plodding horse onward, ignoring Lother’s words following her down the street.

      “No decent woman would keep company with an Injun of her own will.” Anything more he had to say was lost in the clatter of horses’ hooves.

      Mrs. Craven peeked out her window as they passed, her eyes narrowing on Kody, then widening at Charlotte’s riding with him. But she let the curtain drop without offering help.

      As they rode out of town, Charlotte swallowed back the bitterness rising in her throat and resisted an urge to shake the dust from her skirts. She only asked for a little shelter. Instead, she was forced to accept the charity and kindness of a stranger. She prayed kindness guided this man’s actions. God, I need help. Please send someone.

      A mile down the road, Kody edged forward to ride at her side, but neither of them spoke. What could she possibly say? She’d accepted his help out of desperation. She felt no gratitude. Only a mile-wide hope that God would still see fit to send an alternative