The Hope of Refuge by Cindy Woodsmall Page A

his arm. They came to the gate, and he waited as Deborah opened it. They went through it, and then she locked it back, her heart racing with fear.
    She held her tongue, trying to piece together what he might be talking about.
    “Even as a newly appointed preacher, I…still don’t think I was wrong.” He walked a bit faster as he mumbled. “But Pontius Pilate never thought he was either. Rueben swears she has a way about her—a deceiving, sultry, manipulative way. Who should know better than the man who’d been engaged to her? What else could I do? What else should I have done?”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “And that woman I just saw was stealing from the Swareys and drunk. She wasn’t Malinda. Couldn’t be.”
    “Who’s Malinda, Daed?”
    “You keep the children close to home. I have to warn our people.”
    He wasn’t making any sense. And even though the temperature was barely sixty and a breeze blew, he had beads of sweat across his brow. When he stumbled a bit, she tucked her arm through his, helping him keep his balance.
    “Liewi Deborah.” He patted her arm, calling her “dear.” “It’s not easy being the daughter of a preacher, is it?”
    Concerned that he still wasn’t making much sense, she tried to encourage him to turn around and head toward home. There weren’t many phones in the district, but the bishop had approved one for the cabinetry business.

    He took a few steps and then paused. “Whether I’m right or wrong in a thing, only God knows. But decisions, tough ones that have the power to help or ruin, have to be made to protect our beliefs.”
    “I understand. You’re just and caring and do your best. I’ve always believed that.”
    He nodded. “I hope you always do.”
    He staggered, and she did what she could to keep him from falling. “Daed?”
    His legs buckled, and he fell to his knees.
    “Daed!”

    Cara tried to think of a plan while Lori played in the tree. That man calling her Malinda haunted her, and she knew the memory wouldn’t fade anytime soon. The sound of horses’ hoofs striking the pavement made her jump. “Come on, sweetie. We’d better get off this property.” Or at least not look like we’re trespassing .
    “Not yet, Mom, please.” Lori wrapped her legs firmly around the branch and held on tight to the chains.
    “Lori, we need to move. Now.”
    “I am moving. Watch me.” She spurred the tree and mimicked all the motions of riding a horse.
    The sound of the real horses’ clopping grew louder. She couldn’t see a rig just yet, but it’d top that hill soon.
    “Lori.” Cara narrowed her eyes, giving another sharp look. “Now.”
    Lori huffed, but she hung on to the tree with her arms, lowering her legs as close to the ground as she could. Cara wrapped her hands around her daughter’s tiny waist. “Okay, drop.”
    Lori did.
    “Come on. We need to keep walking, like we’re just out for a stroll, okay?” They hurried to the far side of the road near the old barn.
    Her daughter tugged on her hand, stopping her. “Did you hear that?”

    What, the sound of me failing you?
    Lori’s brown eyes grew large. “I hear puppies.” She pulled at her mom’s hand, trying to hurry her. “It’s coming from that building.”
    The whole plot looked abandoned, from the empty foundation to the dilapidated barn, and Cara thought maybe it was a better idea to get off the road and totally out of sight. The two ran to the barn door. As they ducked inside, Cara spotted two horses heading their way, pulling a buck-board. That meant she and Lori might have been seen too. She closed the door and peeked through the slats, hoping the rig passed on by.
    “Mom, look!”
    Her daughter was sitting in the middle of a litter of six puppies, all excited to have her attention.
    “Shh.” Cara peered out the slit of the slightly open barn door, trying to see where the horses and rig had gone. She didn’t hear any clopping sounds.
    “Excuse me.” A male voice