Hope Read Online Free PDF Page B

him.
    Getting up from his chair, Joe stretched, then scratched in places a gentleman didn’t scratch in front of a lady. Stretching out on the cot, he lifted his head off the dirty ticking and grinned at Hope. “Yore welcome to the best bed in the house, Miss Snooty Ferry, if yore a mind to sleep tonight.”
    Eyes of violet steel chilled him. “I’d sooner eat dirt.”
    “That can be arranged, too.” Joe yawned, then sank back on the pillow. “Nighty, night.”
    Grunt took up watch beside the fire, huddling deeper into his coat. “Leave her alone, Joe.”
    Arms akimbo, Hope stood in the doorway.
    Soon the only sounds were the groan of the cooling stove and Big Joe’s snores.
    Grunt sat beside the fire, his dark eyes trained on Hope. Frog kept watch from the table, blowing to warm his stiff fingers.
    Lord, Hope prayed, closing her eyes against the sight of four strangers sprawled about the filthy room. This isn’t my fault; I only wanted to get to Medford to meet my future husband. I don’t know why you’ve involved me in this horrible mistake, but please help me. She opened her eyes, then shut them again. It isn’t fair, Lord. I’ve done nothing to deserve this. Where are you? Her feet ached, and she was so hungry she could eat dirt. What would Faith and June do? They’d pray, just like Papa; they’d pray and trust the Lord to deliver them.
    Did she really believe there was a kind, benevolent heavenly Father living in a place with streets of gold, forgiving people of their sins, rescuing them from evil men who kidnapped people?
    Did she really, truly believe that?
    There’d never been a time when she wasn’t aware there was a Lord, a higher being. Papa had made sure of that. But honestly, she’d never thought much about her beliefs. Papa believed—it only stood to reason she did, too. She believed in her own way . . . but belief like Papa had? Tears stung her eyes. She was cold and hungry and alone and scared.
    If you’re there, show yourself, Lord. Papa was a righteous man. He did enough praying for both of us—have you forgotten? Deliver me from this . . . this travesty.
    She reached out to grip the edge of the doorframe to steady herself. Grunt and Frog had their eyes closed now. Boris and Big Joe were snoring loud enough to wake the dead. A chair was just three feet from her.
    Three short feet away.
    The more she looked at it, the more she longed to sit down.
    She shifted from one foot to the other. Better. Now if she could just reach that chair without making a noise. She edged one foot forward, then the other, holding her breath. She was nearly there. Carefully, slowly, she lifted the chair, then turned and silently crept back to the door.
    Sinking down, she gratefully leaned her head back, closing her eyes. Glorious. And she hadn’t compromised her position one iota. She wasn’t exactly “inside” the cabin. She was still at the door.
    Blinking hard, she fought to stay awake. She’d be on her feet when the men awoke in the morning. Hummpt. Grunt and Frog were disgraceful guards. They were dozing—sleeping on the job. They’d never know she sat for just a moment. . . .
    Her eyes flew open. Why, she could stay awake for days if necessary. Everyone knew she was a fighter. She’d stay awake until she escaped these horrible men. Tipping her chair back, she closed her eyes. Ahh. It felt so good. Just for a moment . . .
    Her eyes flew open again, and she frantically flapped her arms as the chair upended and hit the floor with a thunderous crash.
    All four men sprang to their feet. Hair standing on end, they stared at her, glassy-eyed.
    Swallowing, she stared down the barrel of Big Joe’s pistol.
    Oops. Now they’d know she’d sat down.
    Picking herself up off the floor, she righted the chair and set it back into place. Stepping back to the doorway, she recrossed her arms, blinking back tears.
    Are you there, Lord?

Chapter Three
    Somewhere toward dawn Hope heard a rooster crow. Fingers