It was good country.

After a couple of miles, he settled back in the saddle and let his mind examine the bothersome thoughts he’d been avoiding.

He didn’t want to go to Fort Calgary. He knew no one there. He wanted to settle down among people he’d grown to love and trust.

All the weeks and months he’d been trying not to think past the moment in which he lived, his brain had been hoping and planning, and now a fully developed dream made itself known.

Often, as he had been taking care of Eddie’s cows, he’d come across a pretty little valley. A small stream ran through it. Lush grass covered the rolling hills.

He’d gone out of his way to pass the same valley.

In his mind he pictured the place, a house on the plain next to the stream, a barn and other outbuildings to one side, cattle grazing contentedly on the hills.

That’s what he wanted. What he’d always wanted.

A place of his own. A home of his own and a family.

Now those pictures in his mind sharpened, grew more detailed. A woman stepped from the house and waved, her golden hair bright in the sunshine. Two girls stood by her side. Clara, Eleanor and Libby.

That’s what he wanted.

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Not just to make sure they were safe but to make them part of his life. To love and cherish them as long as he was alive. The words of the psalm filled his heart. He restoreth my soul.

It might be possible if they grew to love him, too.

But would Clara ever stop running? Ever settle down and forget her past?

What would it take? Assurance that she was safe. That her father wouldn’t send someone after her. That he wouldn’t—couldn’t—take the girls away.

He reined to his left. If that dark stranger was still camping in the same spot, he’d reach the place in a few miles.

And he’d demand to know the man’s purpose. Perhaps he could eliminate one fear from Clara’s life.

As he neared the area, he slowed down, alert to any sign of the stranger. Blue did not want to ride into a trap or startle the man and get himself shot.

“Hello?” he called as he drew closer. “Anyone about?” He slowed as he saw evidence of a recent campfire and a pot nearby.

He peered into the shadows. “Could a man get a drink of coffee?” he shouted. He stopped but stayed in his saddle lest he need to ride away in a hurry.

In a moment his persistence paid off. The man stepped into view. “You again?”

“Yup. Had such a nice welcome last time, I didn’t think you’d object.”

The man grunted and threw a piece of wood on the coals. “Coffee’s cold.” He set the pot over the flames.

Blue swung to the ground but kept the reins of the horse in his fist. His only defense, should the man turn ugly, was escape.

“You’ve been hanging around a few days,” he observed as if it didn’t matter and he only made idle observation.

The man straightened and faced him. “It’s a free country last time I checked.”

Blue nodded. “Was last time I checked, too.”

They stared at the coffeepot until coffee sputtered through the spout.

The man grabbed a glove and pulled aside the pot, poured the dark liquid into two tin mugs and handed one to Blue.

“Thanks,” Blue said. “Don’t think I caught your name.”

“Don’t think I threw it.”

“You looking for someone?” Like a woman and two little girls.

The stranger turned to face him, eyes dark and challenging. “You planning to write a book?”

“Hadn’t thought to.” He took a gulp of the scalding coffee. Then he decided to get direct. “But here’s my problem. I care about some people who think you might be looking for them. It has them upset and worried. I’d like to fix that.”

“Them?”

“That’s right.” He sent a swift prayer that he hadn’t revealed more than was safe for Clara and the girls.

The man drained his cup without flinching though the drink steamed, convincing Blue he had a throat of iron.

“I can see you’re curious.” The stranger dropped his cup to the ground, crossed his arms over his chest and balanced on the balls of his feet. “You going to keep bothering me until you learn my business?”

Blue shrugged. “Wouldn’t bother you at all if I knew you didn’t pose a threat to people I care about.”




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