Rebekah was afraid Peter was going to grab Father Plant by his cloak.
“Yes,” Peter said. “Where is she?”
“I left her in the church there, the one you obviously just came from.”
Peter’s mouth fell open.
“Katie, a girl so ready to get out of her English clothes she literally donned one of our habits of poverty.” He gestured to his dress. “So look for a girl dressed like me.”
Rebekah’s heart slapped against the inside of her chest. “She must have walked out right after you, right as we sat in the pew!”
“Then she shan’t be far,” Father Plant said, his face gentle. “I heard Katie say the name, Augusta Victoria, to the famous, or infamous, Nellie Bly.”
Joseph grabbed Peter by the braces. “Augusta Victoria! We saw that ship last night!”
“Thank you, sir,” Peter said. Then, he turned and took off at a run toward the docks. “Come on you two! She’s here somewhere!”
Rebekah smiled at the man, then looked up to the sky. “Thank you, Father, and thank you, God.”
“Go, child,” he urged. “Go with God.”
Rebekah clutched her bag close and turned to run. “Amen,” she cried. “A-men!”
Chapter Fourteen
On the Docks
Rebekah ran as fast as she could, but it was useless to try and catch her brother. Peter ran ahead, like lightning zipping down from a cloud. Fast. Hot. Angry. Determined. He was going to find Katie and he was going to find her today.
No, not today.
Now.
She kept him in her vision, though, her bag clutched to her chest and her breath shrieking into her lungs with sharp stabs. Joseph, too, wasn’t incredibly far ahead of her. Peter was moving as though a divine force was propelling him forward, at inhuman speeds.
Running all the way back to Indiana? The thought swirled breathlessly in her mind. Her footfalls pounded the ground, and running blindly, she didn’t see the dip. Her foot came down hard and her ankle, one that had given her fits since the barn fire where she risked her life to save Buttermilk, her calf, rolled like a ball.
She chirped and went down slow and hard. She saw Joseph skid to a halt and turn back, but he was too late and powerless to catch her. Her bag flew from her grasp and she hit the ground so hard it took what little breath she had left.
“Umph,” she grunted as she bounced on the unforgiving ground.
“Rebekah!”
Joseph was there in an instant, pulling her to her feet. Peter never looked back. “Come on, I’ll look you over once we catch up with your brother.”
“Yes, of course,” she whispered. “Please, my bag...”
Joseph steadied her then leaned to get it. “Here, I’ll carry it and help you along. Don’t use that foot, that ankle looks mighty bad. Oh God help us, please.”
Joseph hurried them along as fast as he could. Rebekah helped too, hopping sadly.
Finally, the ocean came into view. Peter was already there, chest heaving. His grasp on the railing that separated them from the ocean was a white knuckled one. His green eyes, wild. “She’s close. She’s here somewhere.” When he caught sight of them, his mouth fell open. “Rebekah, what—”
“She’s all right,” Joseph interrupted. “Come on, let me look her over, then we’ll find Katie.”
He nodded. “Rebekah, your lip.”
She reached and touched her tender lip with a grimace. Sure enough, blood dotted her fingertips. “I’m so sorry.”
His eyes spoke volumes. There was no need for her to be sorry, none of this was Rebekah’s doing. He steeled his jaw. “Tend to my sister, Joseph. Then, you and I will split up and scour the docks. Augusta Victoria or Katie, whichever comes first.”
Joseph nodded. “You go ahead. Go that way, yonder. I’ll go back this way, once I get her settled. If you don’t find anything, come find me and I’ll do the same. Won’t leave the docks, though, till we are back together.”
“Sounds good.” Peter looked at Rebekah again. An unreadable emotion clouded his eyes. Without so much as a word, he took off down the docks in search of the woman he loved.
“Ouch,” Rebekah jerked as Joseph poked and prodded her ankle. “That smarts.”
“I’m so sorry,” Joseph said. She knew he was sincere. “I don’t think it’s broken. But you certainly can’t keep up with me to look for Katie, and I don’t much like the idea of leaving you here unattended.” He glanced down at the docks. Stringy haired men flung curses and swears back and forth as easily as they threw the boxes they unloaded from the rocking decks onto the docks.
Rebekah glanced around. Tar-paper shacks, no doubt the ones Patty spoke of, lined the docks. “Well, there’s always there?”
Joseph followed Rebekah’s gaze. A giant sign, like a beacon on a hill, sat behind a slight, old woman in a rocking chair.
“‘Sewing,’” Rebekah read. “‘All your needs met.’”
As though she heard, the woman in the chair, with eyes closed by the sun, looked their way and smiled brightly. She raised one arm in greeting.
“I’d say that’s a sign if ever I’ve seen one,” Joseph said. “Here, let me help you over.”
