A Place Called Home (15 page)

“What for?” The small man interrupted.

“Just shut up and I'll tell you.” Vince growled at the man. “I think the old lady has heard from the girl. Look for a letter, a paper with an address, anything that would lead to wherever she's hiding.” Vince Jeffers' voice lowered to a deadly calm before continuing. “You'd better not mess up this time. I'm nearing the end of my patience. Now get out of here and don't return until you have an address for me.”

Long after the hired man left, Vince sat in the shadowy study. Time was running out. Already he had lost out on two deals requiring large sums of money he simply didn't have.

Rising, he went to the window. Winter was nearly upon them. The days as well as his time continued to shorten. He didn't know if he could take another winter in Wisconsin, but without that money he was going nowhere.

Vince's words echoed in the stillness of the room with deadly self-assurance. “I'll find you, Christine Bennett, and when I do, you'll pay for the trouble you've caused me before you die.”

A loud snort sent a white mist billowing into the crisp morning air as Luke's mount tossed his head and pawed the earth. They had ridden hard, Luke giving the horse his head, willing to follow his lead.

Now the horse stood atop a small rise. Luke was still mounted and surveying the Cameron ranch. The setting was peaceful, and Luke's heart swelled with thanksgiving for the wealth that he and Silas shared—not money (although they never went hungry) but the land, its heritage, loved ones, health, the fine animals they bred. He could have gone on forever.

An hour earlier, when Luke had saddled Titan, his thoughts had not been so peaceful. Not for a moment had his mind been off Caroline and her thoughtless words that had hurt Christine. Luke's emotions had run the gamut: anger, frustration, pity, despair, compassion.

Sunday Luke had waged an inner battle over speaking with Caroline. But it was taken out of his hands on the way back to the hotel. Frank had rebuked Caroline in front of Luke, and, whether out of embarrassment or true belief that she had done no wrong, Caroline had stomped into the hotel without a word of apology. Frank had expressed his own regrets before going into the hotel with a worried frown on his face.

Normally Luke would have put the entire affair in the back of his mind, feeling it was Frank's to handle. But the fact was that the Chambers' were his guests, and he felt responsible.

He would never forget the look on Christine's face; she didn't deserve that kind of treatment. She worked hard and was honest. Luke respected her.

Heeling Titan into a smooth gallop, Luke reflected on his previous time in prayer. He had put all these feelings at Christ's feet and had come away knowing that God's hand was at work. His heart had been settled about Caroline and he had petitioned God from the bottom of his heart about his emotions. Fervently asking God to keep the compassion he felt for Christine from turning into a stronger emotion, he knew that Christine's salvation was the most important goal right now.

With these thoughts settled in his mind, Luke went up to the house for breakfast, still thanking God for whatever His work was to be.

Coughing into her apron, Christine squinted against the dust billowing around her. She hated beating rugs. There had been a time as a little girl when she couldn't wait to help Mrs. Hall with her work, but even then beating rugs had been miserable. She couldn't get it done fast enough.

Grandma Em had walked downtown to the post office and to run errands. Christine worked desperately to get finished before she returned.

Luke rushed into the livery stable. If he didn't hurry, he would be late arriving at the hotel and lunch with the Chamberses. He tugged at his necktie and prayed for patience. Dressing up for the third day in a row was not his preference. A quick check with Jack about the leather harness to be ordered and he could be on his way.

Jack was bent over a horse's hoof. Luke was standing quietly waiting when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up to see the sheriff beckoning to him and moving a few stalls away. Luke stopped beside the man and nearly spoke when the sheriff said in a quiet voice, “I've heard from the sheriff in Spooner. He's a good man whose reputation precedes him, and I trust
him.” Luke opened his mouth to ask the sheriff what he was talking about, but the man went on. “He sent a description of Maxwell, the missing man, and has several leads he plans to check out. He'll keep me informed. It's up to you what you share with Miss Bennett, but I thought I'd let you know.” With a tip of his hat, the man was gone.

Luke stood frozen, feeling as if someone had just thrown a hard right punch to his stomach. His thoughts were in chaos. The sheriff in Spooner, a missing man, Miss Bennett, Christine?

Stumbling out of the livery, the harness and lunch with the Chamberses forgotten, Luke headed to his brother's house. Somehow he knew Mark had the answers to his questions, and Luke had every intention of getting them.

“You got a letter!” Grandma Em called up the stairs. Christine came rushing down, an excited smile on her face. She remembered her manners just before tearing open the envelope. “How was your walk into town?” she inquired politely.

Emily laughed merrily, shook her head, and walked toward the kitchen. “Open your letter, Christine. We'll talk later.”

Christine did as she was bade, her hands shaking.

Dear Christie,

I miss you. The house is empty without your smiles and laughter to warm the day.

The weather is getting cold now. The sheriff said it would be too conspicuous to send a box, so I ordered you a coat. Write me when it arrives.

I realize, Christie, it's hard for you not to be here. I will go through your grandfather's things and treat everything with the utmost care.

The sheriff also told me to send word to the sheriff in Baxter. I'll send news as I receive it. The search for Carl Maxwell goes on.

Please take care of yourself, Christie. My heart and thoughts are with you.

Love,
Mrs. Hall

Christine folded the letter and put it in her pocket. A tear slid down her cheek. Carl Maxwell was still missing. He might even be dead. A shiver ran down Christine's spine as she thought of death. If Carl was dead, would she be next? The thought rode hard upon her that day and even into the night.

With a final fist into his pillow, Luke gave up on getting comfortable. Sleep was as far away as the North Pole.

Stabbed! Mark said Christine had been stabbed. Luke's heart wrenched at the thought. His eyes closed and he was once again in Mark's office.

“So you see, I didn't have a chance to tell the sheriff he had the wrong brother. I'll ask you again, Mark. Why is the sheriff in Spooner interested in Christine?”

Mark's battle with his oath was short. His brother's question was from the heart and born out of a fear for his grandmother, Christine, and the entire family. So Mark quietly told him all he knew, beginning with the night he carried Christine into his office and ending with the talk under the willow tree last week.

Luke sat in stunned silence as he listened to all that Christine had suffered in complete innocence. He was in full agreement
with Mark: Her arrival in Baxter was no coincidence. God had put her here to find Him.

Luke rose from the bed. The room was chilly, but he didn't notice the cold as he pulled a chair near the window and sat looking at the crescent moon.

Caroline's anger at his being late to the hotel drifted momentarily across his mind before his heart stepped before God. Luke claimed every verse he knew about God's love and salvation for the lost. He placed Christine in God's hands with each verse, unaware of how desperately his prayers were needed at that very moment.

“No! No!” Christine's screams rent the air. Her door slammed open just as Grandma Em stepped into the hall.

Christine rushed toward the stairs but stopped short at seeing Grandma Em. “He's trying to kill me! I've got to get away. He's got a knife!” Christine's voice was high-pitched and hysterical, her eyes like saucers as she gestured wildly before racing again toward the stairs.