Nash moved aside, giving her room.
“So you say, but what are you going to eat?” He lifted his head to study the others. “And where will you all sleep? I am not set up for that.”
“We’ll figure it out.” She patted his shoulder. “You just rest and get to feeling better.” She rose. “Do you mind if I have a look at your leg?”
“Could I stop you?”
Nash laughed. Even injured and hurting, Shorty had read the determination in Addie’s quiet demeanor.
She rolled back the blanket enough to expose the wounded leg. Touched the dressing. “I believe it’s stopped bleeding.” She brushed her fingers against the skin above and below the gray fabric she’d bound over the wound.
They moved away from the cot.
“It will be a blessing if he doesn’t get an infection.”
“He’s right about something.” Nash frowned at the cupboards. “People will need to eat.” The wood in the stack by the stove wouldn’t last the night.
Addie opened the wooden cupboard doors andstudied the contents. “He’s got supplies we can use.” She pulled out containers. “I’ll put together something.”
Mr. Bertrand slapped the table, jerking Mr. Zacharius awake with a startled cry.
“I paid for meals along the journey. I’m expecting something better than what we were given last night.” He shuddered. “Is beans all this country has to offer?”
Addie held up a sack and shook it. “Beans.” She took two cans from the shelf and showed them to the grumbling man. “More beans.” Her gaze grazed Nash’s as she turned back to the cupboard, and there shone from it amusement and something else. Determination? Yes, but perhaps also a warning that she didn’t intend to cater to Mr. Bertrand’s selfish demands.
Nash leaned closer. “I’m guessing you might be tempted to give him nothing but beans to teach him a lesson.”
The flash in her eyes said he might be right. Then her attention slipped past him to where Mrs. Stone lay on the fur rug. “I’ve been taught to show Christian charity even to the undeserving.” A weary sigh rumbled her lips. “Besides, how many of us deserve the good God has bestowed on us?”
From her flat delivery, she just repeated something she’d heard often. From her parents, no doubt.
“I don’t disagree. I guess there are times I feel like justice is also deserved.”
“I can’t argue on that matter.” Her voice hardened.
Not only had her voice hardened, but so had her expression. “Do you speak from personal experience?”
Her head lowered, her shoulders inching toward her ears, she didn’t answer his question. But her stance said something awful had happened to her in the past.
Three
Justice! The word burned a hot trail through Addie’s thoughts. Justice—nothing but an ideal. Some things couldn’t be erased by man’s determination. Only hell and God’s judgment would suffice.
She forced air into her strangled lungs. Knowing the hereafter provided retribution offered no comfort. It did nothing to ease the agony ofthislife.
Her fingers popped, and she forced her hand to uncoil. She must relax. Mother Stone had taught her to leave such affairs in God’s hands. “He is the righteous judge,” she often reminded Addie. “We need to trust Him. Rest in His love and care.”
Easy to say. Hard to feel, even though she believed every word. Believing and feeling, she’d learned, were not the same thing. Did not even dwell under the same roof.
A meal. These people needed to eat. Mr. Bertrand deserved more beans after his complaints, but Mother needed something gentler. As did Mr. Zacharius and Shorty. A soup would be better. If only shehad?—
The little storeroom. She’d seen the blankets. But there’d been other things there.
“I’ll see what else Shorty has in there.”
When she reached to pull the latch, Nash’s hand caught it and eased the door open. “I’m going to take a look too.”
She bent over and shuffled into the room.
