A Shelter of Hope (11 page)

Still, she reminded herself that remaining aloof and silent would afford her a protection she might well need in the days to come. The less they knew about her, the better. Knowing too much about her and about what she’d done might actually cause them a great deal of grief, and that was certainly no way to pay back a kindness.

“Here, child,” Gladys said, coming forward with a steaming cup. “I just made this tea. I hope you like tea.”

“Tea’s fine,” Simone murmured and accepted the cup.

Gladys sat down in the chair beside her and shook her head again. “You look like you could stand a few days of rest. I sure wish you would change your mind and stay on with us. I miss my own girl so much that it would be pure pleasure to spend time with another young woman.”

Simone tried not to think about the woman’s aching heart, not wanting to imagine the misery of a daughter so far away from home. Simone took a large bite of the fluffy biscuit and tried not to think of anything but the food.
Don’t be a fool
, she reminded herself.
The Cantons are nothing to you. Don’t get caught up in who they are and what they want. Don’t feel for them. Don’t care about them
.

“I’m afraid that Gladdy misses our Eliza a sight more than some mothers might. She’s our only child, you see,” Elias told Simone. He smiled proudly. “She was even named after me, in a roundabout way.”

Simone dared to look up at the man and found only loving approval in his eyes. She swallowed hard and took a long sip of tea from the mug. The lump in her throat refused to move. No one had ever loved her the way these people clearly loved their child. Of course, their child had most likely not committed murder. That thought shattered Simone’s feelings of comfort in their presence.

“I thank you for your kindness,” she said uneasily, “but I really should be on my way.”

“I wish you would at least stay and have a bath,” Gladys said. “Your clothes could use a good scrubbing, and I’d be right happy to see to it for you.”

“Your horse looks pretty well shot,” Elias added. “I’ve put him in the barn. Gave him feed and water, but he could use with a rest, as well.”

He reached out to touch Simone’s arm, but she drew back sharply. Having never known a touch by a man that wasn’t intended for harm, Simone stood up abruptly, knocking the chair over backward. “I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly realizing her reaction. “I can … cannot stay.”

Elias’s expression registered surprise. “I meant you no harm, child.”

Simone realized how awkward the situation had become. “I’m sorry. I thank you for the meal. Thank you, too, for buying my pelts. But I’ve got to go now!” Her feelings were starting to frighten her. She longed for nothing more than to stay with these kind, gentle folk, but she couldn’t—she was a murderess and a thief, and nothing good could ever come to her again.

She moved away from the table, casting one last regretful glance at the uneaten portion on her plate. Gladys seemed to understand this and hurried to remedy the situation.

“At least take some of this with you,” she told Simone. “I’ll wrap up the rest of the ham and biscuits. They ought to travel well. Oh, and you can take one of these loaves of bread. That ought to do you for a couple of days and by then you’ll be to Laramie.”

“Thank you,” Simone replied, not knowing quite what to do. She wanted to reject the offer, but it seemed foolish to do so and her practical mind wouldn’t hear of it. She went to the door, retrieved her coat from the peg, and waited until Gladys and Elias approached with the cloth-wrapped food.

Elias pulled on his own coat and smiled. “I’ll help you saddle the horse.”

“That’s not necessary,” Simone replied, but he’d hear nothing of her argument.

“Now, you be careful on the trail,” Gladys told her. “I’ll be praying for a legion of angels to surround you and keep you from harm.”

Simone stared at her strangely. How odd this woman was with her prayers and her generosity. Simone had a tremendous urge to embrace the older woman, but she fought it with the only defense she had: indifference. It seemed natural for Gladys to act as she did. No doubt it was her nature, but Simone could not allow that nature to influence her own actions. She wanted nothing more from the couple, and she certainly didn’t want for them to desire anything from her.

“Oh, don’t forget this,” Gladys said, retrieving Simone’s earlier-purchased supplies from the floor in front of the fireplace.

“Thanks again,” she murmured, accepting the goods. She reached out for the door handle but found Elias had already opened the door.

He smiled at her and motioned her to go ahead of him. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, Gladdy.”

Simone kept moving toward the side of the house, uncertain as to which way offered her the quickest path to the barn. She glanced around and felt a sense of relief when Elias pointed the way.

“Barn’s over there.”

Simone nodded and followed him to a small stable. The run-down building hardly looked sturdy enough to stand, but inside it was surprisingly warm. Elias immediately set to work saddling her horse while Simone tried to rearrange the pack she’d made out of the extra blanket. She added Gladys’s generous offerings to her supplies and felt rather confident in the abundance she now had in her possession. Food, matches, and water.
Water
. She suddenly remembered the empty canteen.

“Could I fill my canteen before I go?” she questioned Elias.

“Sure,” he answered, reaching out to take the object from her. “I’ll just go do it for you. You go ahead and finish what you’re doing there.”

Again, Simone stared after the man in dumbfounded silence. She was used to being a servant, waiting on others—not the other way around. That this man should go after water on her account was beyond Simone’s understanding, and when he returned she barely managed to acknowledge his actions.

“If you stay on the main road and head back in the direction you came, you’ll go straight to Laramie. It’ll take you two, maybe three days. There’s a run-down shack about ten miles from here. You could stay the night there. It’s not much, but a sight better than sleeping out in the open.”

Simone nodded but said nothing. She hated the way this man made her feel helpless and needy. She longed to escape his vigilant concern and once again be on her own with no one but herself to count on.

“Have I offended you?” Elias asked her softly.

Apparently her discomfort was evident, and Simone instantly wished she’d been born a better liar. “I just don’t know why you’re being so nice to me,” she said, wrapping the canteen strap around the horn of the saddle.

“The Bible says that we should love one another. Jesus said, ‘Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.’ I’d certainly hope you’d do the same for me if I begged a cup of water.”

“It also says, ‘Trust ye not in a friend, put ye not confidence in a guide,”’ she muttered.

Elias looked at her strangely. “Where does it say that, child?”

Simone shrugged. “Micah, seventh chapter.” She grew uncomfortable and turned away, unable to face him. She secured the remaining supplies on the rump of the horse and tied them down tight.

Elias, however, wasn’t a man to be easily put off. “Simone, it seems to me that you have not known much kindness in your life. You can’t simply pull one verse out of context and pattern an entire life around it. The Bible is a book full of wisdom and hope.”

Simone had heard more than enough. The last thing she wanted to do was find herself in a discussion on the Bible and its meaning. She took up the horse’s reins and started to lead him from the barn.

Elias walked out after her and watched the whole time as she remounted the horse. Awkwardly, Simone shifted to dislodge her skirts until she felt comfortable in how they lay around her. She looked down upon the preacher and felt a strange desire to seek his wisdom for a better understanding of many things. So many questions went unanswered in her life. She wondered how it would be to share her fears and her concerns with this man and see what he might have to say about them. But the face of Garvey Davis disrupted this pleasant thought.

She was still too close to home. There still remained the fearful possibility that someone would connect her to Davis’s death and come after her. She couldn’t afford to trust her life to Elias Canton.

“Child, I know your heart is heavy,” Elias commented softly. He came to stand beside the horse and took hold of the halter. “I just want you to know that no deed, no fear, no sorrow is too big for the Lord to deal with. You have apparently acquainted yourself with God’s Word—therefore, it is my prayer that you would acquaint yourself with the Father himself. He is a loving, protective Father.”

“He is also a judge and punisher of wrongdoings, is He not?” Simone replied quite seriously. A part of her longed to believe the old man was right—that God was loving and giving. That He cared about her. But if she allowed herself to believe that, then she would have to believe other things. Painful things. She would have to feel again, and the misery might well be the death of her.

“For those who refuse to confess their sins and turn from evil, yes.”

Simone nodded solemnly and pulled the reins to the right in order to free the halter from Elias’s grip. The old man easily released his hold. “Again, thanks for buying the pelts.” She gave the horse a solid nudge in the side and urged the animal forward. She had no desire to listen to more of Elias’s preaching.

But to her surprise, the man said nothing more. He didn’t call after her, and for that Simone was grateful. She slapped the reins hard against the horse’s neck and relished the briskness of the wind in her face. It helped her to corral her feelings and, by doing so, to feel less vulnerable. Vulnerability was deadly, she reminded herself, paying no heed to the single tear that escaped her eye.

NINE

IT WAS OFTEN SAID that Zack Matthews was the spitting image of his father. Tall and beefy with thick, muscular legs and broad shoulders, Zack stood six feet three without boots. His face had been called handsome by some of the local women, but Zack didn’t brook concern with such nonsense. He devoted himself to working alongside his father, George Matthews, and it was Zack’s intention to make his father proud. Lawmen seemed to fall into two categories in Wyoming: corrupt and more corrupt. George Matthews held his position as sheriff to be a very serious matter. Zack held his position as deputy no less seriously, and both hoped to see the office receive the respect of the citizens.

Respect was an important issue to Zack. The respect of the citizens and the respect of his father. So when George Matthews received word that a man had been murdered in the area of Uniontown, Zack volunteered to take care of the matter. Zack felt this to be as good a time as any to prove his mettle. At twenty-seven and as the youngest in the family, Zack very much desired his father’s approval. His older brothers Ben and Harold had already proven themselves in law and cattle ranching, and his only sister, Emmaline, had married well-to-do. Now Zack felt as though they were all waiting collectively for him to prove his ability, ensuring the family’s pride and name.

He looked around the small cabin just outside Uniontown and wondered at the now departed occupants. The place appeared to have been well kept. But there lacked any sense of pleasantries or feminine touches.

“You say Dumas lived here with his daughter?” Zack asked the old trapper at his side.

“That’s right. Louis and I used to trap together a long time ago. He up and brought him back a wife from Denver one year and that put an end to that.”

“But the wife no longer lived here?” Zack again questioned.

“No,” the man said shaking his head. “Some say she died, some say that she left. I don’t rightly know. All I do know is that the dead man we just drug outside isn’t Dumas.”

“Do you have any idea who that man is, Mr.—” Zack couldn’t remember what the man had called himself.

“Just call me Pike, everybody does. And to answer your question, no, I don’t rightly know who that man is, but the folks in town might have a better idea.”

“I plan to ride back over there this afternoon, but first things first,” Zack answered, beginning to poke around the kitchen. He saw the spoiled remains of a stew, still positioned over the now cold hearth. Dirty dishes sat unattended on the counter nearby, and for all intents and purposes it looked as though the occupants had simply forgotten about them and the meal they were apparently participating in.