give her a quick hug.
“I take it from your reaction, I’ve arrived ahead of your uncle’s letter?”
“There’s been no word on your coming, but I’m so glad you’re here.” Amy’s voice was sincere and childlike all at once.
“How is your dad?”
“He’s doing better, and he’ll be thrilled to see you.”
They stared at each other for a few more minutes, Amy feeling like she could hug him again but remembering she was not 14 anymore. Silas thought how grown up she was.
They worked together to stable Silas’ horse and, as they made their way across to the house, Silas had the odd sensation he was coming home.
“You would think the boss could have put this off for one night. I’m freezing.”
The man to whom he spoke only grunted in reply and continued to stare out into the rain. Within ten minutes, coming from the direction of town rode a black-cloaked figure on an equally black mount. The men stood silently as the horse and rider entered the broken-down barn that had stood abandoned for years.
Without dismounting, the rider spoke. “You have the money?” The voice was husky and low, and the two men within the barn tried to make out the face of their mysterious employer. The turned-up collar of the cloak, along with the low brimmed hat, kept the rider’s identity as dark as the night.
Wordlessly, bags were exchanged. A large sack was handed up to the rider and quickly concealed beneath the cloak.
Anticipating the next move, the two men caught small bags as they sailed from atop the horse.
The chink of coins as the bags landed in the outstretched hands was the only sound made as the two men watched the rider turn the mount and disappear into the wet gloom.
“Who do you suppose he is?”
“I don’t have a clue, but if we start asking questions the money will stop,” the other man spoke as he tucked the moneybag into his belt. “And that is a risk I’m not willing to take.”
7
Silas lay on his back in bed. The vaulted ceiling was familiar, as were the smells and sights of his attic bedroom. The room was simply furnished with a bed, washstand, and dresser. Moonlight streamed through a small, yellow-curtained window and shone on Silas’ clothes where they hung from a hook on the wall. Next to the hanging clothes was a small wooden chair. For Silas there was a strange sense of comfort in seeing everything as he remembered.
Silas had the same feeling with Grant and Amy, even though there had been changes. The three of them had taken about an hour to get reacquainted, and Silas was amazed at how welcome they had made him feel. It was as if they had never been separated.
As he lay musing, Silas remembered that Amy had said something about a robbery. He would have to ask her tomorrow. Right now he was too tired to think. He knew the morning would bring hard work—not that he had ever been afraid of work, but getting a good night’s sleep was beginning to blot out all other thought.
He knew this was where God wanted him, and it gave him a feeling of contentment as he drifted off to sleep that could only be matched by that of the two people readying for sleep downstairs.
Amy had never prepared for bed so slowly. Her mind kept going over and over the events of the last two hours when Silas had appeared in the barn, and then seeing her look of surprise mirrored on Grant’s when Silas’ large frame had filled her father’s bedroom doorway.
Silas carried with him an air of confidence that brought with it a sense that all was going to be well.
Four years ago God had given Amy a big brother, for six weeks, in the form of Silas Cameron. Silas had come to them like an armored knight in days of old, at a time when their pain and confusion over losing their wife and mother was so great, they didn’t believe their world would ever be normal and happy again.
Quiet and sensitive, Silas had offered comfort and stability in his warm, gentle way. Amy had never known a better
Wicked Delights of a Bridal Bed