Wings of the Morning (Kensington Chronicles) (34 page)

bed Tears poured down the old's woman cheeks as she looked

at the tiny infant in Jenny's arms.

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"I've always dreamed of being there for Smokey when she

had a baby; you're the next best thing."

"Oh, Willa, I don't know what I would have done without

you," Jenny said, her own eyes filling with tears.

Willa grinned. "Won't Smokey be surprised when she

hears the name?"

"I can hardly wait. I wonder where she is now?"

"I don't know," Willa admitted. "But I sure hope she's on

her way home,"

"Yes," Jenny agreed "And bringing my brother with her."

"Are you going to continue to search for Smokey?" a

distressed Sunny wanted to know as they talked after supper.

"No," Brandon told her regretfully. "It might seem heartless

of me, but we've tried every avenue and now we need to

concentrate on the case. All we can do is hope and pray that

she's all right."

"And this new information?" Sunny went on. "What will

you do about that?"

"Keep it to myself for the time being. I've still got men

looking everywhere for him. If they can beat him out into the

open, that's going to be the best way to free Smokey, wherever

she is."

Dallas was about to put a word in when a footman knocked

on the door to announce a visitor. Brandon and Dallas stood

as Brandon's private investigator walked into the room. Brandon,

who was beginning to doubt the man's ability, did not

greet him cordially.

"I can't stay," the man began without preamble, "but I've

got to tell you, it's not good He seems to have disappeared

from the face of the earth."

"You're searching the docks?"

"No. I've had two of my men jumped and one killed and--"

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the man cut his words off when he spotted the distressed look

on Sunny's face and the anger in both men.

A muscle jumped in Brandon's cheek, not only over the

man's refusal to do the job, but over his careless words in his

wife's presence. His voice was curt and dismissive. "I'll be in

your office in the morning. Until then, goodnight."

The room was strangely quiet after he left, and when the

silence was broken, it was by Dallas. Both Sunny and Brandon

knew he meant every word

"I'll find him and bring him in. The trial starts in five days

and I won't be back until I've got him. You stall or do whatever

you have to do, Hawk, but don't let them pass sentence until I

get there. I won't let Smokey down."

This said, Dallas bid them goodnight. He knew they

needed to be alone, and so did he.

I can't stand the thought of her in jail, Dallas told the Lord

of lords as soon as he climbed into bed and turned down the

lantern. / ache each time I think of it. Please take care of her,

and give her Your peace and comfort.

Tears came to Dallas' eyes and slid down his temples onto

the pillows. He knew he had to get his mind off of Smokey, so

he began to silently name God's attributes. He was halfway

between "holy" and "righteous" when sleep came to claim

him, something he would be thankful for in the morning. He

would be heading out early to find the man who would save

Smokey from death.

Smokey squinted against the light but could see enough to

reach for the food thrown in to her. She passed Aggie's over

with trembling hands and then frowned at the light when it

didn't go away.

"My offer still stands, Smokey. Have you changed your

mind?" a voice asked from somewhere behind the light.

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Smokey started She tried to see him in the cavern, but could

only make out a dark shape.

Weak as she was in body, she was strong in spirit. With a

deliberate move she turned her head away and continued to

eat. She even asked Aggie to pass the salt, which brought a

cackle of laughter from the old woman.

Smokey made herself ignore the low curse that emanated

from the cavern just before the light went away. This time

trembling did not come with the darkness as it had so many

times before. The women finished eating in silence and when

Smokey thought Aggie had gone to sleep, she surprised her by

speaking.

"Something different 'bout you."

Smokey smiled "Yes, it is," she agreed. "Want to hear

about it?"

"Well, A've an appointment with the dressmaker in an

hour, but let's 'ear it anyway."

The comment brought a small laugh out of Smokey, but

she went on. "Do you believe in God, Aggie?"

"Yeah," the old woman answered briefly.

"Well, I believe in the one true God, Aggie, and His Son,

Jesus Christ, even when it wouldn't be logical to do so. Like

right now, when it feels like I've been deserted, I know that

God is with me.

"The last time that man was here and cut my hair, I was

devastated. But then I got to thinking about all the stories I've

read in the Bible. I thought of Joseph. He was in jail because

his own family sold him, but he trusted God and believed it

was for the best.

"And then I got to considering all the people walking

around in the world who are in their own little prisons. I've

been in a prison about my hair. I wish he hadn't cut it, but I still

have so much to praise God about. He could have cut my

throat. It doesn't matter what they do to my body; my spirit can

always be free if I choose to obey God. I'm telling you, Aggie, I

can be in this cell and still be free as a bird"

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"It's all gettin* to you, ain't it, girl?" Aggie voice was compassionate,

and Smokey wanted to laugh.

"No, Aggie, I am really free. I'm free to know that God

loves me and sent His Son to die in my place. I'm free from the

sins of the past and from the bondage of sin in the future. It

doesn't matter where I am--I can be free in Christ, and so can

you."

Aggie stared at her as if she had gone around the bend "If

God loves us, why are we starving to death down 'ere?"

"It is awful down here, Aggie." Smokey's voice was sad.

"But I know of someplace that's worse, and that's a lost

eternity, an eternity in hell. I don't know if I'm going to die

down here or not, but I do know that I've a better home after I

die. I'm talking about heaven, Aggie, and it can be your eternal

home as well."

Aggie only stared at her.

"Have you heard of Jesus Christ?" Smokey's heart pounded

in her chest. She had never done this before and desperately

wanted to say the right words. She saw Aggie nod and continued.

"Jesus Christ is God's Son, and He came hundreds of years

ago to die for our sins, but He didn't stay dead, Aggie. He rose

again, and He lives today to save people like you and me, and

to give us hope.

"I don't know why you're down here, but it doesn't matter

what you've done. God is waiting to forgive you and save you

from your sins. I trusted Him when I was just a little girl. You

can trust Him too."

"I ain't never prayed before," Aggie murmured softly

when Smokey paused.

"The words don't have to be fancy. I remember that I told

God I was a sinner and that I believed His Son died for my sins.

Then I asked Him to live in my heart, and I know He did

because He's never left me."

"Until ya came down 'ere," Aggie said with soft regret.

"You're wrong, Aggie. It's awful down here, but God is

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with me," Smokey repeated herself. "As long as I've got breath

in my body, I'm going to praise Him."

Smokey stretched out on her pallet, praying that she had

made sense to Aggie.

The older woman watched Smokey fall asleep, her heart

thoughtful. For the first time in nearly two months, her mind

was too busy for sleep.

Dallas stood against the wall of a dockside tavern and

scanned the room's occupants. In the four days he had been

out searching, he had found his height to be a hindrance. It

made him more conspicuous than he cared to be. Since he

was not a regular in these places, it was easier to stand in the

shadows against the wall than to take a table and be watched

Four days and he'd come up with nothing. The detective

had mentioned that their prey seemed to have disappeared

Dallas was beginning to believe he had been right.

With another scan of the smoke-filled room, Dallas pushed

away from the wall. He was meeting someone at midnight in

yet another tavern. Maybe this one would be of more help

than the others. With Smokey on his mind, he prayed this

would be the lead he needed as he walked back out into the

foggy London night.

the morning of the trial the jailer came for Smokey

without warning. Giving her no time to even speak to Aggie,

she was cuffed and led slowly back up to the streets of London.

The sun nearly blinded her as she was led to a waiting wagon.

She stumbled repeatedly from her blindness and the weakened

physical state of her body.

By the time she was pushed onto a seat in the prison

wagon, her legs were ready to buckle. The ride was rough, and

her stomach started to turn. She prayed with confidence

though, telling the Lord she simply had to be freed if she was

going to help her men and Aggie.

Brandon stood inside one of the small anterooms outside

the courtroom and waited. He had pulled a few more strings

and was granted permission to meet with Smokey prior to her

going before the magistrate.

He'd told himself to expect the worst, but he hadn't fully

reckoned with how tiny Smokey had been before her captivity.

Brandon was so stunned by her appearance that for a full

ten seconds he didn't move.

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She was a walking skeleton. Huge dark circles ringed eyes

that were sunk deep in her head Her skin had a frightening

pallor to it and her clothing hung on her emaciated frame.

Brandon's heart pounded, and he praised God that Sunny had

not argued with him over coming to the trial.

"Sit down, Smokey," Brandon said, finally finding his

voice. It sounded hoarse even to his own ears. He watched

Smokey lick her lips, but beyond that she didn't seem able to

move.

"It was a long walk from the wagon," she said cryptically,

and Brandon knew then that she was barely staying on her

feet.

He moved forward swiftly and positioned a chair so that

she had only to bend her legs. She did so. When she sat,

Brandon noticed a look of peace amid the fatigue in her eyes.

Again she licked her lips, and for the first time Brandon saw

how dry they were.

He pressed a glass into her hands and watched as her

whole frame shook with exertion. She raised it to her mouth

and found it fresh-tasting, unlike the water in prison that

tasted strongly of iron, and she nearly choked as she tried to