Wings of a Dove Read Online Free PDF Page B

completed her task and drew herself to her feet. She started hesitantly toward the open door of the rail car as exclamations started anew.
        "Oh, yonder! Look! What's them?"
        Squeezing herself into the excited crowd, Allie could not help echoing the gasps of those around her. Fields, great, golden fields as far as her eyes could see were coming into view, replacing the burgeoning orchards of a few minutes before. Scattered on the ground in endless rows were big, orange
        " Mushmillons ! That's what them are! Mushmillons !" And then the ecstatic question, "Mr. Smith, do they make mushmillons in Michigan?"
        The chorus of laughter that followed little Peter's shouted question did not allay the excitement in his wide eyes as Mr. Smith replied with an almost indiscernible twitch of his lips, "Pumpkins, Peter. Those are pumpkin fields, and yes, I'm certain Michigan has its share of pumpkins."
        Feeling no inclination at all to join in the laughter, Allie continued staring out through the open door. She blinked incredulously. She had often stolen into the vegetable patch that Mrs. Van Houten's gardener had maintained for the household, and she had marveled at the beautiful melons growing on creeping vines and the tall green stalks that produced juicy red tomatoes. But this she had never seen the likes of this before!
        Feeling the weight of someone's gaze, Allie turned to catch Delaney Marsh's eye. Startled at his coldness as he abruptly turned away, Allie felt the small spot of warmth within her shrivel and die. He was the old Delaney Marsh again, the one with the cruel eyes. It was as if the night before had never happened and he…
        No! Catching herself as she began to slip back into her former fears, Allie raised her chin determinedly. The night before had happened. She had held the Lady's image in her hand, and she had felt the Lady's strength and courage touch her. Her prayers had flown directly into God's ear, just as Mama had said they    would, and her fear had faded. She would not let the Lady down by allowing those fears to return. She didn't care about Delaney Marsh and his cold eyes. It was the Lady and her image on the medal she wanted and needed. She wished…
        Halting the rapid progression of her thoughts, Allie gave her head a short, determined shake. She was being stupid again. How many times must she remind herself that wishing, no matter how very hard she wished, did not make it so?
        The smell of the docks was strong and pungent in her nostrils, and Allie grimaced. Mama had once told her that ships and the sea often got into a man's blood, and when that was so, a man would sometimes abandon all he held dear to follow the sea for all of his life. Allie had seen sadness in Mama's eyes then and had accepted her statement without question. But now, in this place with the confusion of loading lake boats, the complaints of disgruntled passengers, and the ever-present odors that seemed to accompany both she was uncertain how that could be true.
        The sudden forward surge of their group brought Allie sharply back to the present, and she stumbled in an attempt to stay close behind the girl ahead of her as they made their way along the dock. Righting herself a moment later, she darted a quick glance toward the streaming throngs that threatened to overwhelm them.
        Buffalo. Somehow that name did not conjure up teeming wharves, endless confusion, and the stench of fish. How very much she preferred the countryside they had passed through only hours earlier, but those burgeoning fields and orchards had yielded only too soon to this unappealing port on this great lake that stretched out endlessly before her eyes like a huge, open sea.
        Mr. Smith had accepted the news of another delay with grace when he was informed earlier that morning that there would be a nine-hour wait for the lake boat that was to take them to the next stop in their