Wings of a Dove Read Online Free PDF

years old and destitute and no one wanted to hire him for honest work. He had found other ways to support himself. But he was going west now, and he was going to put in a day's work for a day's pay. And he was going back to school, at least for another few years. Pa would have liked that. When he turned eighteen he would be free to go out on his own. He'd have decent clothes and a full stomach, and there would be no stopping him from there. He'd show them all.
        Delaney's handsome young face creased in a frown. He was certain of one thing. Nobody would ever take advantage of him again. He was too old, too big, and now he was on the right side of the law.
        His thoughts returning to the little girl sleeping beside him, Delaney frowned again. Small, obviously lacking in street experience, she was a prime target for those who preyed on homeless kids. He had seen what happened to her kind. She had a lot to learn, and she'd probably learn it the hard way. The truth about the medal and "the Lady" would not be the least of those hard lessons.
        Delaney's frown deepened and he shrugged away memories of countless unanswered prayers which still filled him with pain. He had stopped praying after Pa was killed, but despite what he had said to the girl, he knew he'd never sell the medal. Pa had given it to him, and he had loved his father too much to ever give it up.
        Unwilling to pursue his thoughts any further, Delaney lowered his head to the blanket. The girl's small hand twitched in sleep and he hesitated for a brief moment before curving his body toward her. He was somehow unwilling to force the sleeping child to relinquish the medal any sooner than was necessary. He could afford to give her that much, at least for a little while.
        Allie awakened to a stifling closeness, suffocating stale air, and the rattle and shaking of the floor beneath her. Momentarily disoriented, she strained to see into the unfamiliar semidarkness. She felt a warm breath on her cheek and turned her head toward the shadowed form curved toward her in sleep. Delaney Marsh. She paused, her gaze dropping to the chain hanging around his neck, only inches from her upturned hand.
        She looked up again, studying Delaney Marsh's sleeping face for long, silent moments. A smile flicked across her lips and she allowed her eyes to drift slowly closed once more. Mama had been right about the medal. One of her prayers had already been answered: She was no longer afraid.
        
    Chapter Two
        "What's all them red things out there on the trees, mister?"
        Loud squeals of laughter followed the question, succeeding in bringing Allie abruptly awake to the new day within the swiftly moving rail car.
        " Them's apples. Apples growin ' on trees, that's what!"
        Allie opened her eyes and gasped. Mr. Smith was grabbing one of his young charges as the boy leaned from the door of the rail car, arm outstretched in an attempt to snatch the apple-laden branches as they flashed past. She pulled herself erect and glanced around, momentarily disoriented. The loud, screeching whistle, the clicking of the wheels against the rails beneath her, dozing immigrants raising sleepy eyes to the commotion the boys were making, and flashing glimpses of a brilliant sunlit landscape through the open doors of the rail car brought back the reality of her situation.
        Allie looked down. Her blanket lay at her side, but Delaney was gone. She glanced up toward the open door as Mr. Smith attempted valiantly, but with little success, to move the children gathered there to a spot that posed less risk. Delaney stood behind them, exhibiting none of their excitement or enthusiasm. His expression unrevealing, his eyes were slits of blue as he stared at the passing orchards.
        Turning, Allie attempted to fold her blanket, only to find her Bible tucked safely beneath it. A spot long cold and dead inside her stirred to life as she