A Shelter of Hope Read Online Free PDF

she could find, then dragged it back to the house. Next, she drew water and ice from the stream and spent nearly three quarters of an hour getting enough of the liquid heated over the hearth to fill the tub. It took a lot of effort, but it was definitely worth the time and trouble. Sinking into the steaming water, Simone couldn’t remember when anything had ever felt this good.
    Using hard lye soap, she did her best to wash her long black hair. Many times she had no other recourse but to use cornstarch to rid the ebony mass of oil and dirt, but most of the time her hair simply went dirty and unkempt.
    After her bath Simone tied an ancient robe around her body, stoked up the fire in the hearth, and heated another kettle of water. Her clothes were next to go into the tub. With only two outfits to her name, both having belonged to her mother, Simone had to be careful to keep them as serviceable as possible. They usually went days—sometimes weeks—without a good washing, and yet Simone often worried that if she washed them too much, the poor things might fall completely apart.
    She finished the task quickly, then spread them out in front of the fire. With this accomplished she emptied the tub, braving the cold temperatures to walk back across the yard to the pelt shed. The cold wind whipped up under the robe, stinging her legs. Picking up her pace, Simone didn’t even take the time to appreciate the beauty of the day before her. She longed only for the security and solitude that came from the closed door of her cabin. A sigh escaped her as she closed the door and sought out the warmth of the fireplace once again. She readjusted the clothes, then began to comb out her hair, drying it by the heat of the hearth.
    If only it could be like this always , she thought. If only he would stay away and leave me be. I could live quite happily without ever seeing another human being, if only my father would disappear from the face of the earth .
    Simone always found herself hopeful that her father might one day forget to come back to the little cabin. She didn’t go so far as to pray for this because she had firmly convinced herself that prayer was little more than mutterings and utterances from weaklings and cowards. But she did wish for it and often imagined her life without Louis Dumas. In fact, this became her favorite pastime.
    She pictured herself living quietly on the side of the mountain. No one coming or going. No one to even know of her existence. She also considered the idea of loading up the things that were important to her and trekking off across the rugged mountains to parts unknown. She wouldn’t go to Uniontown, however. The men made her uncomfortable there, and the women, mostly mixed race, were quiet and kept to themselves. Naniko told her that it wasn’t good to be alone so much of the time, but Simone thought it the lesser of the two evils in her world. To be alone simply meant the absence of her father, and that cherished state of living held far greater interest to Simone than his companionship.
    When her clothes and hair had dried, Simone dressed and went to work preparing a simple stew. Her father could very well spend the night in Uniontown, but it was also a possibility that he would return. And if he did so and found nothing in the way of supper, Simone knew his rage would be endless. Opening several cans of vegetables and cutting up the last of a hindquarter from a bighorn sheep, Simone had the stew simmering in a matter of minutes. She loved canned vegetables. It seemed so little would grow for her here in her mountain habitat. And why should she labor over the poor soil when someone had already gone to the trouble to package the necessary article in a can of tin? Her father, too, seemed pleased with the convenience and never balked at the purchase.
    Of course, bread was another matter. Simone didn’t really mind putting her hand to baking. In fact, of all her tasks she rather enjoyed this one. A person