Why were the girls so ready to accept Blue as their friend and helper? So ready to trust him?
“I know it isn’t him because this isn’t where we’re going.”
Libby crossed her arms over her chest. “Then where are we going?”
“You’ll have to wait and see. Now let’s get ourselves organized.”
They pushed the table and chairs into one corner and shifted some boxes so they could put their bags on them. There was room enough for them to stretch out on the floor at night. She thought of poking through the boxes for a pot, but it seemed intrusive and she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“Do you want me to read to you?” she asked the girls when they grew restless.
She pulled her Bible from her bag, trailed her fingers over the cover. This book had been her comfort for many years. A kindly servant girl had given it to her just prior to her marriage. “Let’s read Exodus.”
She explained that it was the story of the Israelites fleeing Egypt.
“Just like we’re fleeing Grandfather,” Eleanor said with more insight than Clara expected.
She read about how the pharaoh wanted to kill the boy babies but let the girl babies live.
“Good thing we’re girls,” Libby said. “Pharaoh would have let us live.”
“Mama?”
Clara turned to Eleanor.
“Did our father wish we were boys?”
“Of course not. He thought you were precious.” Though he gave them barely a passing glance, she admitted to herself. He seemed to share her father’s opinion that girls were useless objects.
She returned to the story, her daughters listening intently.
After a bit, Libby interrupted her. “Mama, are we going to a land flowing with milk and honey?”
Eleanor sighed. “I miss having milk.”
“Remember the sweet cakes the cook made? Mmm.” Libby rubbed her tummy. “Wouldn’t I like one right now.”
Eleanor licked her lips. “I’d like a dozen of them.”
“Girls, we aren’t going back to your grandfather’s.” She should have never gone back in the first place, but after Rolland had died a year ago, she had been too shocked to resist her father’s insistence that she must move home. For a year she’d turned a blind eye to how her father treated her like a brainless, helpless female. But when she’d heard him telling the girls they didn’t need to attend their lessons because all they needed was to learn how to smile and be pretty, she’d confronted Father. He administered the money left to her by Rolland, and when she’d asked for funds to get her own place, Father had flatly refused. He’d made it clear that she couldn’t manage on her own. Told her he was arranging another marriage for her.
She shuddered at the thought. She had no desire for another husband handpicked by her father. He must have read the resistance and rebellion in her expression for he’d bent closer at that moment.
“And if you think you can take the girls and leave, or perhaps think you might throw yourself on the mercy of one of your friends, you best reconsider. I would not hesitate a minute to gain custody and forbid you to ever see them again.”
That’s when she’d made up her mind to slip away without his notice. Not that she thought he would simply let her go. He would follow her to the ends of the earth if only to prove himself right. Tension snaked across her shoulders, and she glanced around, half expecting to see him poke his head through the door. But of course he wasn’t there. He’d expect her to go to a city and find comfortable lodging. It was why she had chosen the opposite. The move might have bought her some time, but sooner or later he would realize she’d gone west, and he’d find her. She could only pray by then she would have proven she could manage on her own.
She settled her nerves. God had led them this far. She’d trust Him for the rest of the journey. “We’ll have a home again soon,” she said. “I promise. I trust He’ll provide us with good things, too.”
“Like this little house?” Libby asked.
Clara nodded. “It suits us just fine for now, but it isn’t where we’ll be staying.”
“Will we have a new home in time for Christmas?” Eleanor asked. The girls studied each other a moment as if sharing a secret, then regarded Clara.