Reuben clutched the receipt for his bank deposit, his heart pounding all the while. Now his money was safe in an account. He glanced about the lobby, but the other customers seemed to be minding their own business, even Mrs. Booth in the corner. Carved wood and iron bars proclaimed security. The bars also reminded him of days gone by, years lost and wasted. Not anymore if he could help it.
No, if God could, and would, help him. Reverend Mann would caution him in that singsong voice of his to take heed not to succumb to greed. God would help him pay if he truly showed repentance for his ways. Reuben hoped he had shown just that. Repentance.
He reread the piece of paper in his hand as he started for the front doors. If he kept all his new earnings for himself, the amount would have been larger. Paying back those whom he’d stolen from helped ease his conscience along the way.
Reuben collided with a short, squat man in a bowler hat. The man’s head was tucked low against the blast of cold air that followed him into the bank. A sack fell from his hands. Paper money and coins scattered, the paper floating on air before settling on the floor.
“Oh, pardon me,” Reuben said. “I wasn’t paying attention.” He bent to help gather some of the money.
“No harm done.” The man squatted and scraped some coins onto his palm. “I was in a hurry, not paying attention myself.”
“I think that’s all of it.” Reuben straightened.
The man stood, as well, and extended his right hand. “Howard Woodward, Raider’s Crossing News.”
“Oh, you run the newspaper. I’m”—Reuben shook the man’s smooth hand—“I’m Reuben Wilson. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Likewise. And next time I’ll watch my step.”
“And I will, too.” They exchanged nods, and Reuben wondered if the man’s words held a double meaning. He brushed off the idea like a pesky fly and pushed through the bank doors to come face-to-face with James, also on his way into the establishment. James gave him nothing but a glance.
Reuben tugged the collar of his coat more tightly around his neck and pocketed his receipt. The ice-tinged air bit into him, and Reuben shivered where Checkers stood tied outside the bank. He needed to hurry before the freezing rain began to fall, but he had to make one more stop first.
“Too bad we haven’t seen any of the other Wilson boys,” Pa remarked while he stabled the animals for the night after returning from town.
“It’s sad, Pa.” Charlotte paused while brushing Belle’s warm flank. “I wish we could do something to help Reuben.” The wind had already picked up outside with the promise of another ice storm. Charlotte wanted spring to come and breathe new life across the land.
“God can make something out of nothing. He knows exactly where those boys are. Even now their ma’s prayers are at heaven’s throne. Perhaps she’s visiting there awhile, too.” Pa leaned over the stall door. “I didn’t want to worry you, but I ran into Howard Woodward today at the mercantile. He was asking about Reuben.”
Charlotte’s throat constricted; then she found her voice. “Why’s that?”
“He’s missing some money from his deposit today. Claims he and Reuben were at the bank, ran into each other. Reuben helped him pick up the money.”
“You don’t think Mr. Woodward’s saying—”
Pa raised his hand. “Don’t worry. He was only asking about Reuben since he heard I hired him. I told him I’d vouch for Reuben. We haven’t had anything missing since he’s been here.”
“It’s not fair.” But Charlotte didn’t blame his distrust. She didn’t want to trust Reuben at first.
“I know, but that’s how people are. Seems like there’s a few who want to give him a fair shot. I’m going to talk to him tonight, warn him in case there’s trouble in the future.” Pa sighed uncharacteristically. “Well, you’d best finish up. Ma’s laying supper on the table.” He didn’t chide her for not being inside the warm kitchen and helping, and Charlotte wanted to hug him for it. She had not taken refuge in the barn for longer than she could remember and now realized why she’d loved its peacefulness as a child.
“I will.” She waved at Pa and watched him leave. The barn door groaned as he closed it behind him.
Charlotte started half thinking, half praying as she brushed Belle. This afternoon of solitude was meant to be a time of speaking with the Lord, away from distractions. But Reuben and his family had somehow followed her thoughts into the barn.
She could not imagine losing her brother and not knowing where he was. Last letter she had read, his first-year studies in Lincoln were going well. She knew her parents sacrificed to send him to school, and she was proud of him.
Her thoughts turned to James. Her parents neither encouraged nor discouraged the possibility of him calling. Charlotte moved to Belle’s hindquarters and started working some snarls from the mare’s tail. But what did she want?
All the prayers she’d sent heavenward so far about James had been met with a resounding silence. No yes or no, no warning sign. Or was it that she didn’t want a warning? Or was it because her former love for Reuben and his subsequent rejection made her leery about opening her heart to another? The thoughts chased themselves around her head.
Belle shifted her weight and nearly stepped on Charlotte’s foot. She moved away in time and patted her mare’s neck.
“Sorry, Belle.” She’d been brushing too vigorously, and the mare had sensitive skin.
Reuben had warned her about James. She wanted to drag the meaning out of him, but if he was as stubborn as when they were children, he wouldn’t budge. Did she trust the warning? Reuben had nothing to gain…or did he? She thought about Mr. Woodward’s questioning.
Charlotte tossed the brush onto the straw and placed both palms on her forehead. Her swirling thoughts reached a frenzied pace.
The barn door groaned open again, and a blast of air made Charlotte step closer to Belle, who snorted and moved to the edge of the stall. Another horse answered.
“Who’s there?” Please, not James inviting himself for supper.
“It’s me, Reuben.” The sound of his voice made her feel warmer. And relieved.
Charlotte picked up the castaway brush and met Reuben outside the stall. He led Checkers into the barn. The young mare’s ears twitched.
“Has she been a good horse so far?” Checkers turned at the sound of Charlotte’s voice, and Charlotte touched her velvet nose.
“So far she’s been smart and strong.” Reuben grinned, a sight Charlotte hadn’t seen in years. “She’s the first of many horses that will run cattle.”
“So you’re planning to start a ranch then?”
Reuben nodded. “I want to continue what my father started. Or tried to start.”
“Lots of opportunities here.”
“That there are.” He looped the reins over one hand and adjusted his hat.
“Where will you get the money?”
“I’ve got some put back. I’ll save and work. I can make furniture to sell. I learned how to build tables and chairs in prison.” Reuben’s face flushed. Charlotte believed him and tried to calm the flutters in her stomach.
“The Ladies’ Aid Society is having a box social.” The words came out before she could stop them. As if he would be interested.
“Oh. When is that?”
“Saturday night.” She was already fussing over her box, hoping to decorate it well. “The money is going to the children’s home in Laramie.”
“I will most definitely be there and bid high.” Reuben swallowed. “I think about children like Benjamin and what he might have lost by not being in a proper home. I think the children need some place warm and safe to live where they can get good teaching.”
Reuben turned from her and led Checkers to an empty stall. Charlotte followed.
“I hope Benjamin’s all right, wherever he is. Have you heard anything yet?” She stopped and watched Reuben close the gate to the stall.
“No, nothing.” The sigh he gave echoed the wind increasing outside.
Charlotte shivered. “Pa and I were talking earlier. If you need help…” She touched the sleeve of his coat and realized how thin it was.
He shrugged off her hand. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine.”
“Let me get you another coat then. You must be freezing in this one.” Her breath made puffs in the air.
“No!” Reuben stepped around her.
She followed again, feeling like a puppy at his heels. “Why? Let me do something.”
He whirled to face her, and she collided with him. She could scarcely breathe. He took her by the shoulders.
“I don’t deserve your help. Work on your box for the social. I’ll bid on that.”
Charlotte nodded. “I wish, back then…” He reached up to her face, then let his hand fall. “I know, Charlotte. I know.”
Charlotte sat at the table and tried to fold the thick pasteboard to make her box. Thanks to Momma’s coaching, she’d managed to cook some chicken and make biscuits that wouldn’t break off someone’s teeth. She already had a spare length of blue ribbon tied into a bow that would adorn the top of her box.
Momma came from answering the door. James followed her from the front room. Momma’s eyebrows rose so high they were nearly lost in her hairline.
“Good afternoon, Miss Charlotte.” James set his hat on the table although no one had invited him to stay.
“Hello.” She tried to smile and focused her attention back on the box. Now that James had seen her box and the ribbon, of course he would know which box was hers. At lunch Charlotte had left the materials at the end of the table, hoping Reuben would notice it when he came in from work. If he had, he said nothing. Not since their moments in the barn together had they spoken, except for the usual everyday greetings.
“You’re quiet today.”
“Ah, yes, well, I’m getting ready for tonight.”
“May I see you to the church?”
The question hung in the air while Momma lurked in the background. Charlotte looked up at James. His eyes brimmed with sincerity. She recalled Reuben’s warning. Reuben would not lie to her for his own gain. At least she hoped he wouldn’t.
“No, but thank you all the same. I’ll be riding with my parents tonight.”
James snatched his hat from the table. “I see. I’ll call again sometime.” He turned on his heel and left the kitchen. The front door banged behind him.
Charlotte released a long, slow breath.
“I’m so glad you said no.” Momma fetched a clean cloth for Charlotte to place inside her box. “Your pa and I have been talking, and we don’t think James is a man you should be spending much time with.”
“Why didn’t you say so? I would have told him ‘no’ sooner.” Charlotte arranged the cloth.
Momma touched Charlotte’s blue bow. “You were always the headstrong one. I wanted you to see for yourself. Be patient. Your time is coming.”
Charlotte tried to smile at Momma, but her eyes filling with tears surprised her. She didn’t know how much longer to wait or what exactly she was waiting for.