Dakota Cowboy. Linda Ford

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      Even though he’d prayed. Guess a man couldn’t expect God to jump to do his bidding. Being rescued by prayer once was more than most ever experienced and he would never forget the occasion, nor how it had made his faith in God grow like desert flowers after rain.

      It was an experience that meant a lot to him. He might have shared the details with Lucy in the hopes it would convince her to visit Scout.

      God, I know I ain’t got the right to ask for more than what You’ve already given, but if You could do something to prod Lucy to consider allowing Scout to see her once more before he dies…

      He returned to his campsite and settled back against one of the puny trees. He’d wait until morning to leave. Give Lucy a chance to reconsider. Give God a chance to do something to persuade her.

      Dusk turned the street gray and darkened the shadows along the buildings to indigo. Grasshoppers and crickets sought to outdo each other in their creaky nightly chorus. Birds settled in for the night, calling to each other one last time.

      Lucy and Roy leaned against the livery stable wall. The worn wood hoarded the heat of the day and baked their backs, but they were too content to move. She’d been reluctant to return to her solitary room after the way Wade had stalked off, anger evident in every step. Her heart clenched. Seems Wade had found friendship, perhaps belonging, maybe even a home with her father—something she had wanted most of her life. But her wanting had brought her nothing but disappointment and pain. She would not let Wade’s insistence and pleading trick her into walking headlong into a repeat of those emotions.

      She should return to her room. If Harry and Hettie knew she was out alone after dark they would both scold her. But she wasn’t exactly alone. Roy had no place to go but the corner of the loft where he slept, so he willingly kept her company.

      They had no need to talk but sat in companionable silence listening to the night and bits of conversation floating on the still air.

      A harsher, louder sound caused them both to jolt upright.

      “It’s just the door into the barn,” Lucy said.

      Angry voices rose and fell. She made out a few words. “Cheat.” “Pay back.”

      Curious as to what it was about, Lucy looked around, saw a tiny circle of yellow light and pressed her eye to the hole in the wall. Roy found another spot. From her spy hole Lucy got a clear view of Smitty. She resisted the urge to spit. Smitty was a scoundrel and the town could well do without him. He bullied and threatened his way around, acting like he owned the town and its inhabitants. He spent time in jail on a semiregular basis for minor offenses. Too bad someone couldn’t prove one of the many bigger things they suspected him of.

      Another man faced Smitty, someone Lucy had seen only a time or two. She’d noticed the man had eyes that seemed to see everything, yet reveal nothing. But he sure looked scared right now. He held his hands out toward Smitty.

      “I got no gun.”

      That’s when Lucy saw that Smitty held a pistol aimed straight at the other man’s heart.

      Her breath stalled halfway to her lungs and she clawed for Roy’s hand but found nothing but raw, slivered boards. She should leave. Run as far and fast as she could but she seemed tacked to the wall watching the two men, their forms wavering uncertainly in the flickering lamplight.

      Smitty’s teeth gleamed in a sneer. “Dead men tell no tales.” Light flared from the end of his pistol and the noise of a gunshot rattled against the walls.

      The second man clutched at his chest. He stared at his blood-covered hands, then gave Smitty a look of surprise before he pitched to the ground.

      “Is he dead?” Roy whispered.

      Smitty, who had leaned over to put a second gun in the fallen man’s hand, glanced toward them.

      “Shh.” Lucy didn’t dare move for fear of giving away their presence.

      Smitty stepped back, turned to a third man that Lucy hadn’t seen until this point. She recognized him, too. Smitty’s half-brained sidekick, Louie. The man wore a perpetual smile that revealed a whole lot more meanness than humor.

      Smitty spoke to the man and nodded toward Lucy and Roy’s position. Louie jerked his head in compliance and strode for the door.

      Lucy’s blood burned through her body. “They know we’re here.” She turned, grabbed Roy’s hand in a death grip, held her skirts with her other hand and ran like her life depended on it, which she was quite sure it did. They didn’t stop until they crossed behind the blacksmith shop where they pressed to the wall. Lucy held her breath hoping they hadn’t been spotted. She hoped they were invisible. She prayed the men might think they’d been mistaken in thinking someone had seen them.

      “Who’s there?” Louie called.

      Lucy clutched at Roy’s hand knowing he was as scared as she.

      “Maybe I seen a kid and maybe someone else. Thought it was a woman.”

      Lucy’s heart rattled against her ribs. Please, God, let them think they made a mistake.

      “It’s that kid who sleeps here,” Smitty grumbled. “And I know who the girl is. Only one person spends any time with the kid. Never mind them now. We know where to find them. We’ll get you later,” he called.

      Lucy knew he meant the words for them just as surely as she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to do to them the same thing he’d done to that man in the barn.

      Other voices called. She recognized the sheriff’s voice asking what happened.

      She leaned over her knees and tried to catch her breath.

      “What we gonna do?”

      “Let me think.” They had a few minutes while the sheriff investigated, but she knew Smitty had set it up to look like self-defense when it was clear and simple murder. Only Roy and Lucy knew the truth. And Louie, who would never tell. He’d probably been cheering in the background when Smitty shot the unarmed man.

      Her heart rate spiked again. Smitty wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of anyone who could testify against him.

      How long would it take for everyone to accept Smitty’s version of what transpired? How long did it give her to come up with a plan of escape?

      “Come on.” She practically dragged Roy toward the dining room. They couldn’t stay there. It would be the first place Smitty would look. All he had to do was wait for her to…

      Her heart climbed up her throat and clawed at the back of her mouth.

      “Hurry. We have to find someplace to hide.” She burst into her room and grabbed up her Bible, which held her meager life savings in an envelope. She grabbed a battered valise Hettie had given her and randomly threw some articles of clothing on top of her Bible having no idea where she would go. She only knew that it wasn’t safe here.

      She headed for the door, paused. She didn’t want Hettie and Harry to worry so she scribbled a note and left it on her pillow. “Went to visit my father. Will contact you later.”

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