Blue again looked as if he had no idea how to respond to Eleanor. Then a slow, teasing smile brightened his face. “Every day? Really? I think you’d get plenty tired of that especially if I dragged the service on for three or four hours.”

Eleanor looked shocked. “Would you do that?”

Blue knelt to her eye level. He smiled gently and cupped his hand over the back of her head. “No, Miss Big Eyes. Because I’m not a preacher.”

Libby went to her sister’s side. “He’s a cowboy, not a preacher. Right, Mr. Blue?”

He cupped his other hand over the back of Libby’s head. “That’s right, little one.”

Libby grinned, pleased at her observation and likely just as pleased at Blue’s attention.

Clara hurried to a window that gave her a view of town. She’d heard no wagon or horse, but she needed to get away from the scene of Blue with her daughters. It hurt too much to think of all they missed. They’d never had a father who showed interest in them, let alone affection. Her own father had treated them with about the same regard he gave to the dog that lived with the gardener. Blue alone had shown them affection and it was only temporary.

Sometimes it was hard to trust that God knew best, but like she’d said to Blue, anything other than trust didn’t make sense. So she’d take these days—however long they’d last—as a gift. God’s way of teaching her girls that not all men saw them as useless.

That evening, as she tucked the girls into bed, she again reminded them they weren’t staying there.

“But why not?” Libby demanded.

“Does Grandfather know we’re here?” Eleanor asked, her face wrinkled with worry.

Clara considered how to respond. She didn’t want to make the girls afraid of their grandfather, but perhaps they shouldn’t trust him wholeheartedly, either.

“Will he steal us from you?” Libby’s lips quivered, and her eyes glistened with tears.

Clara contained her shock and surprise and answered calmly. “Why would you think such a thing?”

“Mary said her father heard Grandfather saying that. Isn’t that why we left without saying goodbye?”

It shocked her clear to the core that they’d known, or at least suspected, all the time that her fear was more than Father forcing them to go back. “Girls, I intend to keep you with me. That’s why we can’t stay here.”

Libby nodded.

Eleanor did not. “Then where are we going?”

“I think it’s best if no one knows. Not even you.”

Eleanor persisted. “I heard you talking to the stagecoach man.”

Clara had tried to be discreet but perhaps hadn’t succeeded as well as she hoped. “Whatever you heard, pretend you didn’t.”

Eleanor flopped back on the bedding. “I suppose we will run forever.”

“Of course not.”

“If we can’t stay here, I don’t care where we go.” Eleanor turned her back to Clara.

“I don’t know why you don’t like Mr. Blue.” Libby’s look accused Clara of having something wrong with her. Then she, too, turned away from Clara.

Clara sighed. What was the point in explaining to them that she liked Blue just fine? He had many admirable qualities. A quiet strength, a tenderness with the girls that made her eyes sting, a depth of emotion that she longed to explore further.

Liking him or not wasn’t the problem. So what was? The answers were clear.

First, the only way she was safe here was with Blue as her protector. She didn’t want a protector. What was the point in trading one man’s control for another, even if, in the trade, she found a man who didn’t use his control unkindly?

There was an even bigger reason she couldn’t stay. Blue wasn’t prepared to step into the future.

The next morning, she again reminded the girls to keep in mind they would only be there a few more days.

Eleanor and Libby nodded but refused to meet her eyes.

She told herself she must do what was best for all of them.

As she joined Blue in the church to work, she settled her mind into the measuring, cutting and many details of the work.

There was little need to talk as they knew what each needed to do next and neither of them seemed inclined to make conversation. The girls played quietly in one corner.




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