Olivia, after deciding that it was too late to go to Adam’s office, walked away from the church. Thankfully, the church was on the outskirts of town and closer to the orphanage, so she would get back to her abode in no time.
She passed by an inn just as a coach pulled up in front of it and a man, a woman, and their little daughter stepped out of it.
The sight brought back memories of when she used to travel with her parents as they preached in various towns. She clutched her bible tightly as tears of longing stung her eyes.
The little girl, with a skip in her steps, climbed the wooden steps of the inn, her hand in her mother’s. They disappeared into the place and Olivia stood there for a moment recounting a similar memory of her and her parents in an inn.
She recalled the aroma of beef stew with chunks of carrots and vegetables in it. She had mopped up the delicious stew with some cornbread.
A nostalgic feeling hit her.
Her parents hadn’t been wealthy as they were considered missionaries, but they had tried their best to provide for her. When they were able to save enough money to buy their land to build a church, they had been overjoyed.
And then Gabe Winters had come and taken it from them and her.
“Dear God, please help me,” she muttered as she walked on.
She was finding it hard to forgive the banker for what he did to her, her parents, and the innocent Indians. That he wasn’t even remorseful about it made it very difficult.
“He took away my parents and my family. He took everything from me,” she muttered as she felt a heaviness inside her.
How was she supposed to forgive such a person? Why was such a person walking freely and even committing such atrocities? Shouldn’t God’s judgment have been on him since?
Olivia sniffed. Even though she didn’t have any evidence, she was sure that Gabe had something to do with her parent’s demise. The fire wasn’t an accident.
For the first time in her existence as a Christian, Olivia found it hard to put away her bitterness.
“Remember, the Good Lord told us to love our enemies,” the preacher had told her when she told him how bitter she felt about Gabe.
Yes, Lord, but it’s so hard.
Olivia, not wanting to dwell on her unforgiving spirit, channeled her thoughts into something else.
Her thoughts immediately went to Adam and their time together the previous day. He saw her off to the orphanage, and they had stood outside for a while. Although she had been depressed, she hadn’t wanted to leave his presence.
Warmth spread through her body when she recalled the gentle kiss he had placed on her cheek before leaving. Being truthful to herself, she knew she had developed powerful feelings for him. Since she had never been in love, she didn’t know if she could call it that.
Her lips twisted in a frown as she recalled that Adam didn’t enjoy talking about God. He had become adept at changing the topic whenever she brought up the subject of her faith, or simply kept quiet.
Afraid that she might bring awkwardness between them if she bluntly asked him, she decided it was best if she asked Annie instead.
Although he asking her to have faith in the law and join him to bring the criminals to justice gave her a right to ask him about his faith in God, she didn’t want to.
So caught up in her thoughts as she neared the orphanage, Olivia didn’t see the three men blocking her path until it was too late.
Her eyes widened when she noticed them, their faces half-hidden by handkerchiefs. Her heart thumped rapidly inside her as she wondered if she could run away from them without being caught. The orphanage was just a few paces ahead.
Dear God, please protect me.
Olivia, trying to form bravado she didn’t feel, said, “You’re in my way.”
For an answer, one of the men reached out to take her hand, but Olivia, despite the quivering inside her, hastily took a step back. She turned around to run while opening her mouth to call for help. But she wasn’t fast enough.
A rough hand clamped around her mouth and hurled her back against a hard body. Trepidation rose inside her as the man dragged her as if she weighed nothing more than a feather.
Her back was slammed against the wall of the orphanage as the men crowded her with the hand still across her mouth. Their smell of sweat, tobacco, and liquor fanned across her face and she almost gagged.
“Stay away from the marshal if you know what is good for you,” one of the men said with a menacing threat in his voice.
