Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

I n the swelter of the afternoon sun, Patience swayed with the movement of the wagon, the same steady rhythm she'd felt for just over two weeks now. Jonah said they should see Fort Benton any minute. At last. Already, they were starting to pass a few small houses.

Beside her on the wagon bed, Anna's head rested on a blanket. No wonder she napped during the day, considering she'd cried herself to sleep every night on this journey east, then often been awakened by nightmares. They were what truly exhausted the poor girl. Patience had grown accustomed to waking in the darkness to Anna's crying out, pleading for her parents not to die before succumbing to horrible, horrible sobs. Patience could only wake her, hold her, and cry along with her.

It wasn't fair. No child should have to experience so much loss. Certainly not such a sweet, innocent girl.

Was Patience doing the right thing, taking her away from the Coulters? This new uprooting was clearly pulling up painful memories. Was this giving Anna the chance to truly grieve her grandma? Or was Patience simply forcing her to endure yet another round of grief, this one unnecessary ?

How in the world could she ever know the right thing? She wanted to scream with the weight of responsibility. She'd thought she was prepared for this, but how could anybody be?

Jonah called a command to the horses, drawing her attention to the landscape ahead. They'd reached the edge of Fort Benton.

Patience took a deep breath to settle the turmoil inside her as Jonah guided the wagon through the bustling streets. The fort was a hive of activity, people hurrying about their business, horses neighing, and the distant whistle of a steamboat on the Missouri River. It was a world away from the quiet solitude of the trail.

Jonah pulled the wagon up in front of a white-washed respectable-looking hotel, so different from the one she'd stayed in the last time she came through Fort Benton during her trip west. He set the brake and hopped down, then came to the bed where Patience sat beside Anna's sleeping form.

His gaze lingered on Anna. "I'll get us rooms." Then he looked up to Patience. "You'll stay with her?"

Patience nodded, but her mouth felt too dry to speak. Jonah seemed to sense her inner turmoil and gave her a reassuring smile before striding into the hotel.

She brushed a strand of hair from Anna's face. The child still slept, and considering all the noise and hubbub going on around them, that she did so was a testament to how exhausted she must be. So young. So vulnerable. Patience's heart clenched with a fierce protectiveness. No matter how difficult this journey became, she had to believe she was doing the right thing for Anna. She had to.

A few minutes later, Jonah emerged from the hotel and returned to the wagon. "I got us a couple rooms." He kept his voice low. "I'll carry Anna up and unload the bags before I take the animals to the livery."

Patience gathered the bags she could carry, then climbed out of the wagon .

Jonah lifted Anna into his arms. She stirred and whimpered, but he adjusted his hold and pulled her close. "Shh, it's all right," Jonah murmured as he started toward the front door. "I've got you."

I've got you.

To be held, to know somebody had her.

It was silly how desperately Patience wished somebody would whisper those words into her ear. Silly and futile.

Brushing the foolish thought away, Patience hurried to open the door for Jonah and his precious load, then followed them inside and up to the second floor.

The room he stepped into was plain but clean with a two-person bed in the center and the usual appointments along the walls—dresser, mirror, chair, and small table.

Jonah laid Anna on the bed, and she stirred. A whimper sounded, then her eyes fluttered open. They flicked around the room and widened. She sprang upright, grabbing for Jonah before he could step back. "Don't leave." She gripped his arm. "Please don't leave me."

He crouched beside her, wrapping a hand behind her little back. "Shh, it's all right. I'm not going anywhere. And Aunt Patsy's right here."

Pain pressed so hard on Patience's chest that she could barely breathe. How had she brought such a brave, strong girl to this condition of terror and exhaustion?

Patience dropped the bags she'd carried and sank onto the other side of the bed, scooting beside Anna so she could rub slow circles on her back, something she'd begun doing every night since this journey had begun. "I'm here, sweetheart. You're safe." It wasn't quite time for the evening meal, so if Anna could sleep a little longer, she would feel better.

Anna's clutch on Jonah gradually loosened, and Patience pulled her niece onto her lap, wrapping her tightly in a hold that should feel secure. Hopefully.

Jonah met Patience's gaze over the girl's head and spoke quietly. "I'll get the rest of our things from the wagon and put the horses up. Then I'll come sit with Anna so you can send those wires you need to."

"Thank you." For everything . Her list of indebtedness to this man would fill a book if she were to write it all down. How had she ever thought she could manage this on her own? Where would she be if Jonah hadn't made the journey with her?

He squeezed her shoulder gently before slipping out of the room, leaving Patience alone with her tumultuous thoughts and an overwrought, exhausted child.

Of all the people who could have searched for her after her mother's death, it had been this man. Had God sent him? Was it possible that what Jonah had said the other night was true—that God loved her?

Her mind snagged on that thought and mulled through it. Jonah had said to receive God's love, she only had to ask for His forgiveness for everything she'd done wrong. Then he'd said something else… She worked to find the exact words. Ask to be His daughter so you don't have to fight through life on your own.

She knew what it meant to be her father's daughter. It meant rejection. It meant knowing you were never good enough.

If Patience could be forgiven for her faults, for everything she'd done wrong, maybe she could be good enough.

Maybe her Heavenly Father would see the injured kitten instead of the bloody rug. Maybe a Heavenly Father could see past the dirty hands and the dirty dress to the heart of a little girl who only wanted to help.

Maybe she'd finally hear that whisper in her ear that she craved— I've got you .

Was it really possible to become a daughter of God?

What would that be like? A true daughter of a powerful God certainly wouldn't have to fight and scrape through life. She wouldn't have to look over her shoulder in fear or worry that every kindness might be a manipulation, a bid for control.

Anna shifted in Patience's arms, reminding her of all the ways she'd messed up her life. Not only hers, but now Anna's. This child, who needed to be loved but was afraid, even terrified, because Patience hadn't been a good enough sister or a good enough daughter or a good enough aunt. How could she ever be good enough to be a daughter of God?

She allowed a sigh as she dragged her thoughts back to reality.

She had to keep herself grounded in this world, in the troubles she would face in the next few hours. And days. And weeks. She had to try very hard and do her best to be…to be better than she'd ever been. Maybe this time, this one time, she could be good enough. She had to be, for Anna.

Which meant there was no time for useless fantasies.

T he afternoon passed too quickly, as Jonah sat with Anna while Patsy sent her telegram. He needed to check at the mercantile to make sure they had his stove ready, so he settled the girls at the hotel's café while he accomplished that errand.

Now, evening had turned to night, and the three of them trudged up the narrow staircase toward their rooms. Johnson had said he would have men available to load the stove tomorrow morning. Which meant Jonah could head back to the ranch tomorrow if he wanted.

Should he? Part of him wanted to stay in Fort Benton every moment he could with Patsy and Anna. Maybe he could still convince Patsy to come back with him.

But just this afternoon she'd been talking about how they would travel to Indiana. She had all the details planned in her mind. This was what she wanted.

She'd made her choice, and his lingering here would only make it harder on him in the end. She and Anna were safe here in Fort Benton. He would leave money at the hotel so their room would be covered as long as they could possibly need to stay here. Then he'd leave instructions that the remaining money not used be returned to Patsy. That would help a little with their travels.

He swallowed. If only he could do so much more. But she'd made her choice. And he'd not been chosen. Again.

When they reached the second-floor hallway, the dim glow of the lamps attached to the walls flickered against the faded wallpaper, casting elongated shadows that seemed to mirror the heaviness in his heart. At Patsy's door, he turned to face them.

A knot clogged his throat, so he had to clear it before he could speak. "I guess this is goodnight." His chest ached, making the words he needed to say even harder. "I guess I'll be heading back in the morning." The thought of leaving them here twisted like a knife in his gut. He had to change the subject before he said something he'd regret. He dropped his gaze to Anna. Did she realize it was also goodbye? That he might not ever see her again? Was it good for her to know?

She moved to him and wrapped an arm around his waist. "Goodnight, Uncle Jonah."

He wrapped her close and forced out words. "G'night, Anna-bug. I love you." And he did. So much, his heart was splitting.

She pulled back and turned to slip into the room she shared with Patsy. Just like that, she was gone.

He took in air, then let it ease out of him. He needed to focus on the other goodbye now.

Forcing himself to look up, he met Patsy's gaze. He couldn't tell for sure in the dim light, but her eyes looked to be rimmed in red. Her jaw had set firmly in place though .

He studied her face, committing every detail to memory—the graceful slope of her cheekbones, the soft curve of her lips, the way her eyes caught the lamplight and sparkled like stars. "Did you hear back from the solicitor?" He'd forgotten to ask her when he returned from the mercantile.

"I received a wire with his condolences earlier today. He said he'd pull Mama's will and contact me tomorrow with the details." Her voice wavered slightly, and Jonah fought the urge to take her hand, to offer some small measure of comfort.

Instead, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "That's good. I'm sure he'll get everything sorted out quick enough." The words felt hollow, so trivial in the face of how his life—both their lives—were about to change. When he rode away in the wagon tomorrow morning, he'd be leaving his heart here in this hotel room. He might never see Patsy again.

He forced himself to meet her gaze once more, doing his best to convey everything he couldn't say aloud. The respect, the admiration…the longing.

Her green eyes glistened, tears welling there but not falling. She would fight every sign of weakness. That stubborn streak was one of the things he loved most about her.

Love .

The word echoed in his mind, taunting him with everything he couldn't have. Everything he was about to lose.

He couldn't lose her. Not without trying one final time. Lord, help me. Turn her heart.

He cleared his throat. "You know, you and Anna could ride back with me. If you want to. We could wait another day or two until things are settled with the solicitor." He'd wait here in Fort Benton a year with her, if that was what it took for her to come home with him.

Pain flashed in her eyes, but she shook her head. "I need to see this through." Her voice came out barely above a whisper. "For Anna, and for myself."

Something cracked deep in his chest, a fissure creeping through his heart like a spider's web. His throat burned like desert sand. He swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he fought to maintain his composure.

With a nod, he forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. "I understand. You and Anna are always welcome. If you ever change your mind, we'll be waiting for you." I'll be waiting for you.

Patsy's smile wavered, a single tear escaping down her pale cheek. "Thank you, Jonah. For everything."

He wanted to reach out, to brush away that tear and pull her into his arms. But he couldn't.

Not trusting himself to speak past the lump in his throat, he turned and walked away, his boots echoing hollowly on the wooden floorboards.

He didn't look back. If he did, he might not have the strength to let her go.

As he reached his room, he paused, his hand on the doorknob. The temptation to turn around, to run back to her and beg her to reconsider, was almost overwhelming. But he had to let her go, to let her find her own way.

He pushed open the door and stepped inside. The click of the latch behind him sounded like a death nell.

He leaned back against the door, his eyes closing. God, I need Your strength to follow through with this. Now more than ever before.