Beti could do nothing but nod. She’d read the verse, of course, but to think that God had a purpose even in her misdirections, well, she hadn’t thought of it quite that way before.
“We shall have to stay here this night, Alice.”
Alice nodded her agreement to her brother. “It was so pleasant to meet ye, Miss Sigridsdatter. I believe we shall see each other again.”
“I hope so,” Beti offered somewhat lamely and watched as Thomas herded his sister down the lane.
“Them Quakers is a strange lot, but friendly. Never had a rough word from any of ’em.” The tavern-keeper placed hands on his hips. “Now, what can I do for ye, Miss? I’m not going to try that surname of yorn, it’s sure to twist me tongue into knots.”
Beti grinned at the man. “I’d like to secure ye pen for my sheep.”
“Aye.”
The mood throughout the camp was cheerful. Wet hair and drying clothes were visible everywhere. Zeke could almost smell the freshness. Or it could be that what he didn’t smell was himself? His dip in the creek had been plenty cold but refreshing nonetheless.
He found Isaac leaning against Gordon’s wagon watching the boys cavort with the Curd kids. Zeke took a spot next to his old friend.
“Edwards is going to hold a meeting tonight,” Isaac informed him without taking his eyes off the boys. They’d got up a game of tag. They ran to and from each other twisting and deflecting away from getting tagged like sheets in a strong wind. Zeke laughed with them as he remembered the light in Jona’s eyes when he’d tagged his faster little brother when they were young.
“That should be interesting, to say the least,” Gordon answered saving Zeke the trouble. “Do ye suppose the man knows how to give an uplifting sermon, or are we in for a ration of hellfire?”
“Dour is he?”
“I do not think I have ever met a more miserable Christian in all my days,” Mose answered from behind. “That man is as rigid as them kids over there is bendy.”
“So maybe it would not be a better idea for Miss Beti to be closer to the front then.”
“No, it would not.” Issac’s answer was given with all the finality of command.
It was not a tone Zeke usually argued with.
“After what I saw yesterday I wouldn’ta thought ye’d want her to be too far away from ye.” Mose hopped to the ground.
“Nonsense. It is good to keep the womenfolk—all the womenfolk—in the center for their own protection,” Zeke countered.
“I thought Mose would be following around after the little Quaker.” Gordon winked at Zeke as he jabbed Mose.
Mose got real still. “No.”
“She’s a fine looking woman. Not afeard of the wilderness.”
Energy waved through Mose like someone plucked a music wire. “She ain’t my type.”
Gordon’s eyebrows rose. “Didn’t know ye had a type.”
“I like the dark haired ones like Zeke does.” Mose fluttered a finger in Zeke’s direction.
“I like the competent ones,” Gordon replied, his eyes following something behind Zeke.
“What in the world does that mean?” Mose nearly hollered.
“It means one who can stand on her own if she needs to.”
“Ye mean ye do not care if she has brown hair or fair? Just if she can wash the dishes while yer huntin’ bears? That don’t make sense.”
“Think about it, Mose. Where we’re going there is no help to be found. We have to rely on ourselves, and I just think it is more important that a woman can make it in that environment. Don’t get me wrong. I would like it if she was beautiful, but what does beautiful really mean? Is a rose prettier than a daisy?”
“There he goes again with all that deep thinking. Ye make my head hurt,” Mose complained.
“I like all the flowers, Mose,” Gordon countered.
He was silent for a minute. Then a broad grin broke out across his face. “I like all the flowers too, but I am right partial to the lily.”
Zeke leaned closer to a chuckling Issac. “About Miss—“
“She’s best where she is.” Isaac’s tone brooked no argument. So be it. Zeke unfolded himself from his leaning spot and moseyed back to his wagon.
Edwards stood on the back of his wagon bible in hand. Zeke took a spot next to Beti and the Quakers who’d taken a shine to her. Aggie took the spot on his other side.
Beti caressed the cover of a worn Bible. The cover was creased into cracks, and the pages crinkled and fanned out from the binding.
“Looks well loved.”
A soft smile lifted her lips, and a warm glow lit the depths of her mesmerizing eyes. “It was my father’s treasure.”
