“I ain’t prayed in a long time,” Rachel admitted, feeling tears prickling at her eyes.
“Then maybe it’s time you started again,” she replied.
When Mrs. Albright rose, she lit another candle and set it by the window. The flame flickered, casting gold across the walls.
“You can stay in the loft tonight,” she said. “No one goes up there but the pigeons.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Rachel replied. “I’ll be quiet.”
“You can talk if you need,” the woman said. “Sometimes it’s the only way to keep the dark from getting inside.”
Rachel smiled faintly. “Maybe later.”
***
She climbed the narrow stairs, the boards creaking beneath her weight. The loft was small, just enough room for a cot, some old hymnals, and a dusty Bible. Through the cracked slats of the high window, she could see Red Rock sleeping beneath the moon.
Rachel sank down, wrapping the shawl Mrs. Albright had given her tight. Her heart still raced from the terror she hadexperienced, but now that she was still, exhaustion hit her like a wave.
Down below, she heard Mrs. Albright humming softly. It was an old hymn—one Rachel’s mother used to sing before she died. The sound reached her through the rafters, and for the first time in days, Rachel let herself breathe.
“Mrs. Albright?” she called softly.
“Yes, dear?”
“Do you think angels really watch over folks like us?”
The woman’s voice was calm when it came. “I think they do, though not always with wings. Sometimes they walk beside us in dust and boots.”
That made her smile.
“Blaze used to say Ma was an angel,” she replied.
Mrs. Albright chuckled. “Then I reckon she’s been busy lately.”
That drew a laugh from Rachel. She lay back on the cot, the wooden beams above her catching the faint glow of candlelight below.
“Do you think my brother’s alright?” she asked quietly.
She didn’t know why she needed reassurance. It wasn’t like Mrs. Albright’s opinion was going to change anything.
There was a pause long enough for Rachel to think the woman hadn’t heard.
“A heart as fierce as his doesn’t fall easy,” the older woman replied. “You’ll see him again.”
Rachel wanted to believe that. She closed her eyes, but her mind wouldn’t rest. The last look on Kane’s face haunted her—the smug grin, the flash of his hand near his gun belt.
He’d wanted to own her life like a ledger entry. The thought made her stomach turn.
“Mrs. Albright?” she whispered again.
“Yes, child?”
“If something happens to me, will you tell Blaze I tried to be brave?”
There was silence for a long moment before she spoke again. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. Not while you’re under this roof.”
Rachel nodded and turned her face toward the window. Outside, the desert was endless. She could almost imagine Blaze somewhere out there, sitting by a campfire, eyes fixed on the same stars.
