“Well, I can tell you down to the last penny where mine is and how much it is.”
He could swear she was about to stick out her tongue at him. “Fine. I didn’t ask you to come over here to argue. I wanted to ask you about moving on. I can travel some, and I don’t want to hit any more bad weather.”
“Fine, when do we leave?”
“In the morning.”
“Wonderful. I’ll see you then.” She turned and marched back to the center square of the town.
He rubbed his chin, thankful he’d kept his mouth shut about her feminine attire. She’d been wearing fancy dresses every day—not that she looked bad in them. He’d wanted to ask if she’d purchased a real pair of boots to travel with, but he didn’t dare. He looked down at her fleeing feet and groaned. She had to have the prettiest set of ankles he’d ever seen. Lord, help me deliver her to Creelsboro … fast.
Mac turned and looked back at the river. The Twenty-third Psalm replayed in his mind and stopped at, “He leadeth me beside the still waters.” He blinked, focusing on the river once again. The next verse he recited more slowly. “He restoreth my soul.” He knelt down. Am I constantly running, Lord, so that I refuse to hear what You’re trying to say?
Listening for some sort of response, he waited a bit longer. A bird sang in the nearby trees. A gentle breeze stirred the dry leaves on the ground. The river even played its music, but not one word from God. Mac wanted answers. He demanded them. But they weren’t coming, and after all these years, he wondered, should they have come?
He got up and stomped toward the stable. He’d better give them a hand and make certain that the wagon was ready to roll in the morning. I need to keep moving, Lord.
“Did you find Mrs. Danner, Mr. Mac?” Urias asked as he entered the stable.
“Yup. We’re leaving in the morning.”
Urias lifted a crate from the wagon and placed it on a nearby buckboard.
“What are you doing?”
“Mr. Croley hired me to bring over the items he bought from Mrs. Danner.”
“That’s great. I’m glad you found a job.”
Urias grinned. “I don’t think Mr. Croley knows I know Mrs. Danner, but it doesn’t matter. It’s a job, and it’ll give me some money.”
Mac knew Pamela had a hand in getting the lad the employment, but he wasn’t about to tell him. “A man needs to work for his hire. Do you need a hand?”
“No thanks. I’m just about done.” Urias dusted off his hands and leaned toward Mac. “Hanging is set for noon.”
“We’ll be long gone before then.”
Urias’s red hair gave a single nod. Neither of them was anxious to see a man hang.
“Is the work done on the wagon?”
“Just about. I think they’re having trouble building the bed the way Mrs. Danner ordered it.”
“I still can’t believe she’s insisting on a bed.”
Urias laughed. “You two definitely look at life differently.”
Mac grunted.
Urias laughed harder.
Pamela let out an exasperated breath. Why did she and Mac squabble so much? She opened her drawstring purse and pulled out a small trinket. Mr. Croley had said it was an actual Indian artifact and was supposed to bring good luck. She tossed it on the bed. It certainly didn’t help her conversations with Mac. She’d been about ready to wring his neck for implying she was less than competent. Oddly enough, the more she felt attracted to him, the more his words stung.
On the other hand, she knew he’d be even more protective if he had any idea how much money she still carried in the wagon. She glanced over to her chest. The false bottom hid the family fortune. She’d worn each of her fancy dresses to keep up the illusion that she’d brought an entire wardrobe with her. Even though Jasper had been captured, tried, and convicted, she still didn’t feel safe. If the residents thought Mr. Croley was paying the bank for his debt to her, they wouldn’t be inclined to pursue her. One incident on the trail was more than enough.
Removing her social dress, she replaced it with a more comfortable one. Errands done, she wouldn’t be going out again until morning. Tonight she would pack. Knowing Mac, he’d be here to pick her up before the sun crested the horizon.
An hour later, Pam’s trunks were packed. She sat rocking in the wooden rocker Elizabeth Engle kept in the room. Pamela traced the curved line on the arm of the chair. Elizabeth had told her that her husband had carved the chair for her when she was expecting their first child. The rocking chair had been a real blessing over the years, Elizabeth said. She’d spent more hours in that chair rocking her fussy babies than she’d spent in any other chair in the house.
It still surprised Pamela how well furnished the home was. No question the late Mr. Engle produced quality furnishings. He’d made just about every piece in the house.
Pamela rocked back and closed her eyes. Lord, I’m still in doubt about traveling on to Creelsboro, but I have no place else to go. Barbourville is tempting me to stay and make a home here. The people are friendly, but …
Her mind drifted to the upcoming event in the town square. She knew justice had to be played out, but to know she was the reason a man had been hanged…. Pamela shook her head, hoping to clear the images from her mind’s eye.
“Jasper killed many, Lord. I know that. And I’m thankful I’m still alive. I know he deserves his punishment for all those other people he’s killed. I don’t know; call me foolish, I guess. I just can’t live where I know I played a part in the man’s death.”
A gentle knock on the door broke her from her prayers.
“Yes?”
“Pamela dear, it’s Elizabeth. Are you needing anything else this evening?”
Pamela went to the door and opened it.
“No, thank you, I’m fine.”
Elizabeth’s matronly appearance of silver hair, gentle wrinkles, and warm eyes made it easy for Pam to open her heart to the older woman. “I must say, I’m sorry to see you leave so soon. You’ve been a most enjoyable guest.”
“Thank you. I’ll miss your hospitality as well. You’ve a beautiful home.”
“Thank you. My Peter had a way with wood.” The elder woman glowed.
Pamela’s heart ached for that kind of a relationship. To be so close to a person that even in death you still feel a part of the other. She felt her eyes water.
“What’s the matter, dear?”
“Nothing. It’s wonderful to see the love you still have for your husband, God rest his soul.”
Elizabeth nodded her head and smiled. “I fell in love with Peter when I first set eyes on his handsome face. But love is hard work. It takes time and patience. It used to bother me that he spent so many hours making all this furniture. Then I realized—and I must say it took quite a few outbursts on my part before I understood—that making the furniture was his way of saying, ‘I love you.’”
Pamela found it hard to believe that the very items the woman cherished had been the items they, as a couple, had fought over.
“Peter also realized that I wanted more time with him and not just with the things he made. Of course, that’s when the idea hit to have me work with him on the furniture. The idea of sitting down, holding hands, and just talking was completely foreign to the man. But you’re right, dear. I do love him with all my heart. We had many good years together. And soon, I think, I’ll be joining him.”
“Are you ill?” Pamela worried.
“No, no, dear. But remember, I’m seventy-five. I can’t imagine living too many more years.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Pamela mumbled. The older woman had been so open and loving that, earlier in the week, Pamela had found herself able to unburden to Elizabeth, explaining the lie she’d been living with for days.
“Oh my, I forgot. You’ve lost your parents and your brother in less than a year.”
Pamela took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“I found comfort in the Twenty-third Psalm,” E
lizabeth offered.
“I’ve been thinking on that psalm a lot. I certainly have been walking ‘through the valley of the shadow of death.’”
Elizabeth placed her blue-veined hand on Pam’s forearm. “Read all the verses of that psalm, not just the fourth. There’s a lot more there.”
“There is?”
Elizabeth winked and patted her arm. “Good night, dear. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night.” Pamela closed the door to her room, grabbed her Bible, and opened it to the Twenty-third Psalm. What have I been missing?
Chapter 13
Mac hoisted the last of Pamela’s trunks into the wagon. She must have filled it with lead. Either that or the few days’ rest had played more havoc with his muscles than he thought.
Inside he found Mrs. Engle providing a hearty breakfast for their departure. Mac ate in earnest, as did Urias. Pamela left the table early, claiming her need to arrange some items in the wagon. “Women,” he muttered and forked some home fries.
“Thank you for the fine vittles, Mrs. Engle.” Urias spoke with his mouth full.
“Pleasure. You take good care of Pamela Danner, you hear?” She shook her finger at Urias.
He sat up straight and responded, “Yes ma’am.”
Mac chuckled. Mrs. Engle reminded him of an old schoolteacher, very strict and very poised.
“And I expect you to do the same, Mr. MacKenneth.”
Mac wiped his mouth with a linen napkin. “Yes ma’am.”
Urias’s face went red, holding back his laughter. Mac kicked his shin under the table.
“Hey,” the boy cried out.
Mac winked. Laying his napkin beside his now-empty plate, he excused himself from the table. His mother would be proud, he thought.
Urias drank another glass of milk, grabbed a couple of biscuits, and followed Mac out the front door. Mac could hear Pamela shifting things around in the wagon. She had the flaps closed. Should I knock?
“Hey Mrs. Danner,” Urias called out.
She popped her head out through the opening. “Give me a minute.”
Her golden hair draped down across her shoulders, and the blue of her eyes competed with the sky. Mac closed his eyes. “Take all the time you need.”
Two minutes later, after what had seemed like an eternity, Pamela emerged through the front of the wagon dressed in her woolen traveling dress with a bonnet covering her beautiful hair.
“I’m all set, boys. Let’s go.”
Urias and Mac climbed on board. Mac discovered a small, long pillow covering the entire bench. “What’s this?”
“Hopefully, it will help.” Pamela looked straight ahead.
“Feels great,” Urias piped in.
“It’s nice to have you coming along, Urias, at least to Lynn Camp.”
“I ain’t got nothin’ better to do. Besides, it’s a long hike to Mac’s place from here.”
“You’re welcome to travel the entire trip with us. I have more than enough provisions, and if we run out, I can always purchase more from the various farmers.”
Mac looked over to Urias and nodded his consent. It might be nice to have the lad as a buffer between them.
A wide, toothy grin spread across the boy’s face. “I would like that.”
Mac slapped the reins. “Yah.”
The wagon jerked forward.
“You know,” Pamela said to Urias, “I’d like to talk with you about possibly working for me. I know Mr. Mac has offered for you to stay with him and learn to live off the land. And I know how exciting and important that kind of training is, but, well, I’ve been thinking, I could use a strong young man to help me at the store.”
“Really?”
“You’d need to attend to your schooling though. If you’re to grow in the job, you’d need to know how to read and write. Not to mention how to add and subtract figures.” Pamela glanced over at Mac.
Ouch! If the woman had daggers in those eyes, they hit their mark. He never should have questioned her figures regarding the merchandise.
Urias’s shoulders slumped. “I’ll have to think on it.”
“We have time. Several days if I’m not mistaken, right, Mr. Mac?” She flashed her pearly whites at him.
“Right,” Mac mumbled. She probably would be a good role model for the boy, so why did it bother him? Because he had felt a bond with Urias from the moment he caught him outside the Campbells’ barn.
Hours passed, and Mac found himself lying on the bed he’d protested so strongly about, while Urias led the team. Even with the fancy pillow on the bench, his backside was hurting. He scanned the rearrangement of the various trunks. The heavy midsize trunk was in the front of the wagon to the right side, opposite the bed. He looked under the bed to see that Pamela had used every bit of space for storage. The woman continued to surprise him. He noticed she’d even purchased a pair of rugged boots for the trail. He suspected they were boys’ boots, but he knew better than to bring up the subject.
“Whoa!” Urias halted the team. “Right here, Mrs. Danner?”
“This is wonderful, thank you.”
“Why are we stopping?” Mac rose from the bed.
Pamela pulled the flap open. “Lunch.”
She came inside and shuffled through the food pantry, as she liked to call it. She pulled out a bundle. “I prepared these this morning. I figured it would save us time today.”
Mac nodded and accepted the sandwich, thick slices of ham and some cheese inside a bulky whole-wheat roll. “Thank you.”
“Mac, we need to talk privately. I’m going to send Urias off for a bit,” Pamela whispered.
Mac swallowed.
“Urias, Mr. Mac and I need to have some private words. Would you mind eating over there?”
“Nah, I may go farther. When you two have private words, you get loud.”
Pamela’s face reddened, possibly matching the shade Mac felt his own face turning.
“Thank you. I’ll call you when we’re through.”
Mac felt the wagon bounce as Urias jumped off.
Pamela placed a hand on his arm. “Mac, I have a confession to make.” Pamela nibbled her lower lip. How do I begin, Lord? “Mac, I did a lot of thinking while we were in Barbourville.”
Mac sat upright with his legs hung over the side of the bunk.
“I wanted to speak with you without Urias hearing because I wanted to speak about him.”
“Yes, you seem to have planned out his future.”
His words stung. “I’m sorry. I should have spoken with you first. I have nothing compared to the excitement you can offer the child. But what about his education? Surely you would agree he needs an education.”
Mac rubbed his hands on his knees. “Yes, he needs an education. But books aren’t all a man needs to learn. That boy has been beaten time and again. He needs to learn others don’t do that.”
“I know.” She sat down on the crate across from him. “I think I can give him that if he comes and works for me.”
He grasped her hand and held it lightly within his. The warmth of his hands calmed her. “Pamela, I know you mean well, but the boy needs a man in his life, too. A strong man who doesn’t strike out at others for no reason, who doesn’t bend and hide at the first sign of trouble.” His imploring gaze locked with hers. “A man needs to be treated like a man. If he came to work for you, he wouldn’t know if he was loved or just hired on.”
“Of course I’d love him. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t offer him—”
He placed his finger to her lips. “Stop. Think, please,” he pleaded. “Try and consider this from a man’s perspective.”
She thought of her brother, her father, and how they had approached problems, how they would focus on a single objective and go after it. How does that apply to this? she wondered.
“It’s for the boy to choose, anyway,” Mac continued. “We can’t go deciding his future. He needs to decide on his own.” He released her hand and grabbed his sandwic
h. “This is very good, thank you.”
He’s done it again. Just like that, he’s dismissed me. Pamela’s temper soared to the roof of the wagon. “I wasn’t through talking with you.”
“I’m sorry. What else did you wish to say?” Mac placed his sandwich back down.
“I hate it when you dismiss me like that. When you think you’re all-knowing. Just who do you think you are, anyway? The world’s number-one expert on anything and everything? Well, you better think again, mister. Because there’s one woman who sees through your pompous ways.” She stormed out of the wagon.
“Pamela,” he hollered.
She continued to walk away from the wagon and on past Urias. “Didn’t go so well, huh?”
“That man is thicker than, thicker than … oh, I don’t know. That rock, I suppose. I need to clear my head. Tell Mr. Rockhead I’ll be back in a while.” Pamela continued to walk farther away from the road. The roar of water could be heard through the trees. She headed for the sound. Deeper into the woods she went. She’d planned to confess her secret as well, but there was no talking with the man. Just as soon as she allowed herself to start having feelings for him, he stomped all over her heart.
Tears streamed down her face. “Why doesn’t anyone ever listen to me, Lord?” She pushed on and found the stream. Water danced lazily over broad, smooth stones, cold and refreshing. She dampened her face.
The Bible verses she’d read the previous night came to mind. “He leadeth me beside the still waters.”
She looked at the stream. “This water isn’t very still, Lord.” Looking for some quieter water, she turned upstream. Calm would be a welcome relief. She walked until she reached a small pool, the water so clear she could see down to the bottom.
Pulling the small charm she’d purchased in Barbourville out of her pocket, Pamela sat down. “This isn’t working.” She raised her hand to pitch it into the pool but held back. The charm was a stone carving of a wolf.
“What do you have there?”
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