He turned his focus to Steps Right, then spat on the ground at her feet. “Your son watch you suffer as I watch my father. He see your body when spirit no more.” His jaw flexed. “Then I kill him. I will bring honor on the lodge of my father once more.”
He spat again, this time on the hem of Steps Right’s dress.
Faith had to work to keep from venting her anger on the man. How dare he insult a woman, especially an elder, in such a way? But she made herself sit still. Any movement, any fight against her ropes or his goading would only please him.
He wouldn’t win. She couldn’t let him.
Finally, the man turned and strode to the far corner of the camp to stare through the pine trunks at the valley below. Watching for White Horse and Grant, no doubt.
She slid a look at Steps Right. They still hadn’t dared to speak to each other, but she needed to know if Steps Right was injured more than before. If at all possible, she had to find a way of escape before White Horse and Grant arrived. Maybe now, while there were only two men and they weren’t fully focused on her and Steps Right.
She kept her voice in her quietest whisper. “Can you walk?”
Steps Right didn’t look at her, just let her unfocused gaze wander beyond the camp. But she gave a tiny dip of her chin.
Good.
Now she had to figure out how to get them untied.
Did they have anything sharp? She certainly didn’t. IfSteps Right possessed such a tool, she would have already used it, or at least mentioned she had something.
The tree Faith was tied to had smooth bark, so it might take a day to scrape through her binding by rubbing the cord against the trunk. She would be willing to try it, though.
She slid her wrists up and down behind her. Pain shot through her upper arms at the awkward angle. Worse than that, she had to lean forward with each movement, making her actions far too obvious. Moving her wrists side to side was nearly as bad.
If she could get near fire, she could burn the rope. But that was impossible with her hands tied behind the tree.
She would have to find a person to set them free. She glanced at the second brave, Crooked Knife, the one who’d first spoken to them behind the waterfall. He hadn’t come over to them but once, when he brought a cup of water for them each to take a sip from.
He was a little shorter than Flies Ahead but had thicker shoulders. That was probably how he’d managed to carry Steps Right’s heavier body. Hopefully hehadcarried her, not made her walk on her bad ankle. How much worse had the struggle injured her?
If she helped him understand how injured Steps Right was, would he take pity on them and help them escape? Not likely. Especially since he was the one who took them captive in the first place. At Flies Ahead’s orders, of course. They would find no ally in either man.
Could Flies Ahead be reasoned with? Did he possess a scrap of mercy? Maybe if she helped him see how killing them in cold blood would be so much worse than his father dying of an illness.
A look at the man’s hard profile—jaw set and fists clenched at his sides as he stood watch—made it seem so unlikely.
God, what can I do?She’d been praying all day, but she couldn’t tell if the Lord heard her.Please, show me what to do.
Not you but Me.
The idea slipped in so quietly, yet it staked a solid claim in her mind.Is that you, Lord?For so long, she’d wanted a real answer from God when she prayed. Something that she could see or feel and know for certain was Him communicating.
She’d never expected His voice to come as such a quiet thought. How many times before had He answered her in this way but she’d missed it?
Not you but Me.
So she shouldn’t try for an escape? She should just sit here, tied to this tree in the hot sun, and wait? Thirst was already making her head ache, even more than the low pounding from her injury.
She slid a glance at Steps Right. It was one thing to risk her own life on whether these quiet words were from God, and if they were, whether He would actually carry out the answer He promised.
Steps Right must have felt her gaze, for she turned her head just enough for their gazes to meet. Her aged voice quavered in a half whisper as she spoke. “Pray. We pray.”
It sounded like Steps Right was willing to wait on God for deliverance too. Faith dipped a nod. Interesting that the woman would say those words—the only thing she’d spoken since their capture—at that very moment Faith had been questioning God.
How many other times in her life had she received direction from God, and simply hadn’t recognized it? And thenshe’d blamed Him in her heart for not answering—every time.
Guilt pressed through her, and she squeezed her eyes shut against it.I’m sorry, Lord. Forgive me for being headstrong and untrusting. I’m leaving this to you now,as you said. I pray my obedience hasn’t come too late.
