The Fire in Ember - DiAnn Mills [121]
“Look at those two love birds.” Clint stomped their way. “Shut up, before I blow a hole right through both of you.”
Bert no longer cared. “I thought you wanted me home. Someone to tend to Pa. Now I hear you’re selling me to a brothel.”
“Pa’s dead. A rattler got into the cabin and bit him while he slept.”
She should have had a reaction—and she did. Sorrow for never having a pa who cared for her or saw her as anything but a nuisance. Grief for a family that had never been or would ever be. Faith? She had to believe in God because she had nothing else that truly mattered.
CHAPTER 56
Leah paced the barnyard. How long would John, Evan, Wirt, and Bob be gone? Shadows loomed around her. She should be cooking for the boys. Reading to Mark while he lay in bed. She should be on her knees. Yet all she could do was pace with Rowdy at her heels.
“Mama, I’ve cut slices of ham and bread,” Davis called from the doorway. “And there are beans too.”
Her precious baby. She choked back a sob. “Your brothers will appreciate supper. Thank you, son.”
“Can I bring you a plate of food?”
“No, darlin'. I’m too upset to eat.”
“Me too,” his voice cracked. “I’m worried about John and Evan—and even Bert. She was nice to me, Mama. And now it looks like she played sweet to us so her brothers could steal and murder.”
Leah hated that her youngest knew so much about life when he should be playing, fishing, anything but experiencing harsh reality. “God will make sure it works out.”
“Do you really believe He will?”
“Of course.” She walked toward him. All of her sons’ needs took priority over hers.
“But where was God when Pa died? And when John got shot? What right does God have to pick and choose? Does He have favorites?”
Such heart-wrenching questions from one so young. She lifted her skirts and stepped onto the porch. The confusion on his young face yanked at her heart. She wrapped her arms around him. “We have to believe God knows best and to anchor our prayers in Him. I’ve been angry at God too. Remember when you read how David didn’t understand why God allowed King Saul to try to kill him? All David could do was trust God to bring an end to the bloodshed.”
“It’s hard, Mama.” Davis wiped the wetness from his cheeks.
“I know,” she whispered. Almost impossible.
She heard horse hooves pounding against the ground and whirled around to see riders headed their way. She released Davis and grabbed her rifle, but then she saw a familiar painted horse. Drawing in a breath, she saw only three men. What had happened? She hurried back down the steps to await them. Wirt arrived first.
“Where’s John?”
Lines etched into his face. “Leah, we thought he might be here.”
“What do you mean? And where’s Bob?”
Wirt dismounted. His face held the lines of worry—and trouble. “Bob had a heart attack. He’s at the High Plains, and Doc Slader is with him.”
She glanced about and attempted to gain her senses. Davis was watching, listening. “Will he live?”
“Doc thinks so. But he doesn’t want him moved for a few days.”
“But John … Why don’t you know where he is?”
“When Bob had the heart attack, Evan went back to town to get the doc. John rode on to the next ridge to see if he could spot the cattle. He didn’t show up at the High Plains. We hoped he was here.”
“Well, he’s not!” She lifted her shoulders and slowly let them fall. “I’m sorry. I simply need to know if he’s all right.”
“We’ll find him.” Wirt pulled her into his arms, and she laid her head against his chest. “He probably took shelter from the storm.”
“It didn’t rain here. Just got black.” Her own words mocked her. Was the devil himself trailing her son? “When can we leave to find him?”
Wirt breathed in deeply. “Parker and I have decided to round up a posse in the morning. Not sure where he went, but we’ll pick up his trail.”
Fear twisted through her. “But you have an idea where to begin. You saw where he rode.”
When Wirt didn’t answer, she drew back away from him. “You think he’s dead, don’t you?”
“Of course not, we—”
“Don’t lie to me, Wirt Zimmerman.