in Springfield where you could stay. You want to, I’ll take you to a train station an’ send you there.”
Petey glanced over his shoulder. “An’ I wouldn’t have to work for Dave no more?”
“No more.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Petey nodded, his shaggy blond hair bobbing with the movement. “I’ll go.”
Matt gently turned Petey toward the lean-to. “Wait for me in there. I’ll get my supplies, and then we’ll head out.” He waited until Petey trotted to the lean-to before heading around the building and through the front door. As promised, Dave had a bundle waiting.
“I put in salt pork, beans, coffee, cornmeal . . .” The man recited the list and named the cost.
Matt removed his money purse and plopped the coins into Dave’s waiting hand. Hefting the bag, he clumped to the door, but halfway there he stopped and turned back. “You got coats for boys?” His heart pounded. Would Dave figure out what he was up to?
“What size?”
Matt didn’t have any idea. “Need it for a boy about six or seven years old.” He hoped he’d guessed correctly.
Dave pulled a brown wool coat off of a wooden hanger and held it out. “This do?”
Matt looked it over. He suspected the coat would be too big for Petey’s slight frame, but bigger would last longer. He nodded. “That’ll do. How much?”
“Three dollars.”
Three dollars was about half of what Matt had left in his purse. He slipped the purse out and unsnapped it. “I’ll take it.”
Minutes later, astride Russ, Matt doubled back through the alley and reined in beside the lean-to. “Petey?”
The boy’s blond head poked out. Matt threw him the coat. Eagerly, Petey pulled the coat over his shirt and buttoned it to the collar. He peered up at Matt with wide, trusting eyes.
Matt leaned down, offering his hand. “Okay, partner, grab on.” With a slight tug, he swung Petey behind him. The boy weighed next to nothing. “Now hold tight,” he advised, and he felt Petey’s arms grip his waist. “C’mon, Russ, let’s go.”
Riding over the hard-packed road leading away from St. Louis, Matt was very aware of the small boy snuggled against his back. The child had to be cold and—as the afternoon wore on—tired, but he never complained. He didn’t ask questions, either—just slipped his hands into Matt’s pockets, pressed his cheek to Matt’s back, and clung in silence.
Matt asked himself plenty of questions as he guided Russ across the bleak countryside. What did he think he was doing, sneaking off with a child who didn’t belong with him? Would Dave send the law for him—accuse him of stealing his property, as Jenks had done all those years ago? Would he have enough money to buy a ticket for Petey to get to Springfield when he reached a train station? It’d been a long time since he’d been to Springfield—what if that orphanage he’d told Petey about wasn’t even there anymore?
Lord, I acted so quick, I didn’t think things through, Matt prayed, breathing in the crisp winter air. But I couldn’t leave him there to be treated bad by Dave. I did the right thing . . . didn’t I? As a young boy, suffering under Jenks’s hand, he’d wished for someone to come along and rescue him. Surely rescuing Petey couldn’t be wrong. Still, he worried about the legalities of his choice. I hope I don’t end up regrettin’ this. . . .
Behind him, Petey suddenly loosened his grip and slipped sideways.
“Whoa!” Matt drew up on Russ’s reins with one hand and caught the boy with the other. Craning his neck around, he asked, “You okay?”
Petey nodded, grinning sheepishly. “Must’ve fallen asleep. Sorry.”
“No need for apologizin’.” Matt paused, surveying the landscape. A few scrubby trees about a quarter mile off the road would provide shelter for the night. “Sun’s gettin’ heavy. Time for us to be finding us a sleepin’ spot, anyway. You ready for rest?”
A yawn provided Petey’s answer.
“All right,
Petey glanced over his shoulder. “An’ I wouldn’t have to work for Dave no more?”
“No more.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Petey nodded, his shaggy blond hair bobbing with the movement. “I’ll go.”
Matt gently turned Petey toward the lean-to. “Wait for me in there. I’ll get my supplies, and then we’ll head out.” He waited until Petey trotted to the lean-to before heading around the building and through the front door. As promised, Dave had a bundle waiting.
“I put in salt pork, beans, coffee, cornmeal . . .” The man recited the list and named the cost.
Matt removed his money purse and plopped the coins into Dave’s waiting hand. Hefting the bag, he clumped to the door, but halfway there he stopped and turned back. “You got coats for boys?” His heart pounded. Would Dave figure out what he was up to?
“What size?”
Matt didn’t have any idea. “Need it for a boy about six or seven years old.” He hoped he’d guessed correctly.
Dave pulled a brown wool coat off of a wooden hanger and held it out. “This do?”
Matt looked it over. He suspected the coat would be too big for Petey’s slight frame, but bigger would last longer. He nodded. “That’ll do. How much?”
“Three dollars.”
Three dollars was about half of what Matt had left in his purse. He slipped the purse out and unsnapped it. “I’ll take it.”
Minutes later, astride Russ, Matt doubled back through the alley and reined in beside the lean-to. “Petey?”
The boy’s blond head poked out. Matt threw him the coat. Eagerly, Petey pulled the coat over his shirt and buttoned it to the collar. He peered up at Matt with wide, trusting eyes.
Matt leaned down, offering his hand. “Okay, partner, grab on.” With a slight tug, he swung Petey behind him. The boy weighed next to nothing. “Now hold tight,” he advised, and he felt Petey’s arms grip his waist. “C’mon, Russ, let’s go.”
Riding over the hard-packed road leading away from St. Louis, Matt was very aware of the small boy snuggled against his back. The child had to be cold and—as the afternoon wore on—tired, but he never complained. He didn’t ask questions, either—just slipped his hands into Matt’s pockets, pressed his cheek to Matt’s back, and clung in silence.
Matt asked himself plenty of questions as he guided Russ across the bleak countryside. What did he think he was doing, sneaking off with a child who didn’t belong with him? Would Dave send the law for him—accuse him of stealing his property, as Jenks had done all those years ago? Would he have enough money to buy a ticket for Petey to get to Springfield when he reached a train station? It’d been a long time since he’d been to Springfield—what if that orphanage he’d told Petey about wasn’t even there anymore?
Lord, I acted so quick, I didn’t think things through, Matt prayed, breathing in the crisp winter air. But I couldn’t leave him there to be treated bad by Dave. I did the right thing . . . didn’t I? As a young boy, suffering under Jenks’s hand, he’d wished for someone to come along and rescue him. Surely rescuing Petey couldn’t be wrong. Still, he worried about the legalities of his choice. I hope I don’t end up regrettin’ this. . . .
Behind him, Petey suddenly loosened his grip and slipped sideways.
“Whoa!” Matt drew up on Russ’s reins with one hand and caught the boy with the other. Craning his neck around, he asked, “You okay?”
Petey nodded, grinning sheepishly. “Must’ve fallen asleep. Sorry.”
“No need for apologizin’.” Matt paused, surveying the landscape. A few scrubby trees about a quarter mile off the road would provide shelter for the night. “Sun’s gettin’ heavy. Time for us to be finding us a sleepin’ spot, anyway. You ready for rest?”
A yawn provided Petey’s answer.
“All right,
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