Echoes of Mercy: A Novel (44 page)

Caroline curled her hand over his forearm. Beneath her palm his muscles
were taut, tense. She pressed gently. “Don’t confront Hightower. If he knows you’re aware that he’s changing the books, he’ll run. He has money hidden away somewhere, and if he collects it, we might not be able to bring him to justice. Tell your father, but don’t let Hightower know you’re aware of his duplicity. Not yet.”

He looked at her for a moment, but then he sighed and relaxed. “All right, Carrie. You’re the investigator. I’ll trust your wisdom in the matter.”

His faith in her pleased her more than she could say. She smiled her thanks, and he responded with a weak grin of his own. She dropped her hand from his arm. “Go now. I’ll catch a quick nap and then visit the police department to see if there’s an update on Letta, Lank, and Lesley before I report to Noble. He’ll be very interested in what we discovered.” She turned to leave, but he captured her hand, holding her in place.

“Carrie?”

She looked into his gold-flecked eyes of palest green, and something at her very center melted. Oh, how she loved gazing into his eyes. “Yes?”

For long seconds he simply smiled down at her, his expression warm and admiring. Finally he spoke, his words drifting forth on a sigh. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For helping prove my father’s innocence. After the way he spoke to you—even seeming to threaten you.”

She held up a hand to silence him. She’d only been doing her job. But he went on.

“Thank you for trusting me enough to go out on that ledge.” Teasing put a sparkle in his eyes, and she laughed softly, briefly ducking her head. He caught her chin and lifted her face to his again. “But mostly, thank you for telling me about God and prayer.”

Her heart caught.

“I prayed today. I prayed, and each time God answered. He kept us from being discovered.” Awareness bloomed across his face, his eyes glowing with some inner joy that defied description. “He listened, and He answered. He rescued us.”

Although later she might regret it, she couldn’t stop herself. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him hard. His arms closed around her, and for several seconds they clung to each other, sharing a moment of discovery.

Then she pulled loose, catching his hands to remain connected with him. “He answered because He cares, Ollie. He loves you. And, yes, He is our Rescuer. He rescued us from sin and eternal separation from Him when He sent Jesus into the world to bear the penalty for our wrongdoings. The Bible says, ‘Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.’ Saved, Ollie. Rescued. Saved to do His will and to walk with Him eternally.”

Tears stung, and she sniffed. Her eyes shut as she poured her secret thoughts to her Father.
Lord, if You brought me to this man to help him find his way to You, then I accept Your will. But please comfort my selfish heart. I want to be so much more than the one who introduces him to his Savior
.

Ollie’s fingers tightened on her hands, and she gazed at him. His sweet face was distorted by her veil of tears, but she still glimpsed his smile. “Thank you. I’m saved, Carrie—for all eternity.”

She fell into his embrace again, tears of joy flowing down her cheeks. Even if she’d failed in the mission Noble had sent her to do, she’d witnessed a beautiful rebirth in Ollie’s spirit. No mission, no matter how successful or satisfying, could ever be better than knowing Ollie’s soul was redeemed.

With a self-conscious giggle, she tugged free of his arms. “You’d better go if you intend to get to Wichita and back before tomorrow evening.”

He nodded, a hint of regret on his face. “You’re right.” Tenderness crept across his features. He took one step backward but kept his hand extended toward her. “I’ll be praying for the Holcomb children to be found.”

She planted her feet firmly to prevent them from dashing after him. Oh, how appealing she found this man. But her missions here—her Noble-given mission and her God-given mission—were nearing completion, and she’d soon have to tell him good-bye. She’d only make it harder for herself if she gave in to these desires. She forced a smile. “Safe travels, Ollie.”

“Thank you. Enjoy your rest, Carrie.”

She remained on the hotel stoop, watching him until he reached the corner.
He paused, turned back, and waved again. Lifting her hand, she returned the farewell, her heart doing cartwheels. He rounded the corner, and with his departure she was free to see to her own errands.

With a determined stride, she retraced the path they’d taken to escape. She’d rest, but first she needed to regain the proof of Hightower’s fraudulence. She would either find those dropped pages, or she’d discover a way to take the entire books. Either way, she’d bring the truth to light.

Letta hunched over her Bible, underlining the words with her fingers as she painstakingly read aloud to Lank and Lesley. Mrs. Annamarie had read the story of Daniel in the lions’ den to them one night in the hotel, and Letta had decided to share it again in the hope the thoughts of lions would frighten the boys enough to keep them close at hand. But some of the words were harder than she’d realized. They’d nearly nodded off during her slow reciting of the tale.

She finished, “ ‘He delivereth and rescueth, and he worketh signs and wonders in heaven and in earth, who hath delivered Daniel from the power of the lions.’ ” She closed the Bible and found Lesley staring at her.

“Who’s ‘He’?”

Letta blinked twice. Hadn’t he been listening at all? “ ‘He’ is God.”

“What’s ‘deliveruff’?”

Letta sighed. “That’s just a fancy way of sayin’
delivered
—means the same as rescued.”

“Ohhh.” Lesley nodded. He sat upright, perky as a prairie dog hopping out of its hole. “Can we go bee huntin’ now?”

“We’re not bee huntin’,” Letta said, shaking her finger at her brother. “We’re honey gatherin’. It’s not the same thing.”

Lesley shrugged, grinning. “But can we go?”

“Soon as Lank gets together everything we need.”

Lank unfolded his legs and rose, his smile bright. “Aw-aw-already got it. Luh-let’s go.”

Letta, her arms loaded with the empty tin cans and lunch bucket, trailed behind Lank and Lesley as they led her along the creek. Lank bent forward, burdened by the bundle of sticks on his back and the lumpy wad of cloth in his arms. But he didn’t voice a word of complaint. He talked, though—jabbering away with Lesley as if they were all going on some merry journey. Letta marveled at the changes she’d seen in Lank over the past days. He held his head high instead of cowering. His confidence grew hour by hour, and she was so glad she’d brought the boys out here away from town and everybody else. This was where they belonged.

Lesley pointed ahead. “See up there, Letta? See that old busted-up wagon and the plum bushes growing around it? The bee nest is just beyond it.”

Letta shook her head, battling the urge to scold. They’d sure ventured off too far for good sense. But she was with them this time, so they’d be all right.

As they neared the hive, the bees’ drone drifted to their ears. A few plump insects swirled outside the opening to their hive, which they’d built in the belly of an overturned piece of rusty farm equipment. The sight of that machine—either something meant to spread seeds or manure—brought Letta up short. If there was equipment lying around, then farmers had to be nearby. The reminder hacked away at the feeling of safety she’d built over the past couple of days.

She grabbed the sleeve of Lank’s jacket, making him stop. “You sure there’s no people around here?”

“Wuh-wuh-we looked,” Lank said, his eyes wide. “Nuh-nuh-nobody around.”

“It’s all right, Letta,” Lesley chimed in, shifting from foot to foot. “Don’t be scared. Lank an’ me’ll take care of ya.”

Letta swallowed a chuckle. Lesley wasn’t big enough to fight off a bee, but she wouldn’t tell him so. “You come on over here with me,” she said. “Lank can get that fire started on his own. He don’t need us in the way.”

Lesley made a sour face, but he followed her toward the creek. Letta called over her shoulder, “We’re gonna go to the other side, Lank. Soon as you get that fire goin’, you come, too, you hear?”

“I huh-hear.”

Letta caught Lesley’s hand. “C’mon.”

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’.” Lesley splashed alongside Letta, his lower lip poked out in a pout. Halfway across the creek, he suddenly stopped, and his body arched as if somebody had speared him. He screamed.

Letta clapped her hand over his mouth. “Lesley, what ails you? You wanna let the whole county know we’re here?”

He knocked her hand loose and screeched again, the piercing sound filled with both fear and pain. He bent over and tugged at his leg. And finally Letta saw what was wrong. A steel trap lay beneath the surface of the water. And Lesley’s ankle was clamped in its jaws.

Letta crouched in the cold water and clawed at the jagged steel jaws holding Lesley’s foot. His wails pierced her ears. Blood painted a line of red in the stream. She cried out, “God, God, please help me …”

Lank splashed into the creek, splattering her arms and Lesley’s pants. “Wuh-wuh-what happened?”

“Trap.” Her heart beat so hard it hurt. Her lungs lost their ability to hold air. Her chest pumped with the effort of breathing.

“Luh-let’s guh-guh-get him out!”

Letta’s shaking hands refused to cooperate, but Lank scooped Lesley into his arms. His face red, grunting with exertion, he lifted Lesley a few inches. A chain rattled. Lesley threw back his head and screamed again—the most agonizing cry yet.

Letta grabbed at him. “Let ’im go, Lank! You’re hurtin’ him worse!”

Lank released his hold, and Lesley fell against Letta, sobbing.

“Chain’s holdin’ the trap down somehow. We gotta get it off his foot.” Letta wrenched Lesley’s hands loose and crouched down again. The icy water lapped at her, sending shivers across her body and making her tremble. But she ignored the cold and closed her fingers around the trap’s jaws arching away from the front of Lesley’s foot.

Lank dropped to his knees and took hold of the inches of steel behind Lesley’s heel. He met Letta’s gaze, his eyes fierce with determination, and nodded. Together, they yanked on the trap. Again and again they repeated the jerky motion, their muscles straining against the powerful clamp. But the metal didn’t budge.

With every movement Lesley’s screams become more piercing. He clutched at their shoulders, their heads, his icy fingers frantically seeking rescue. Letta rose and left Lank prying at the trap on his own. She wrapped Lesley in her arms. He sobbed harshly, bucking against her grip. She nudged Lank with her foot and snapped, “Hurry up!”

“Tuh-too tuh-tuh-tight. Cuh-cuh-can’t get it.” Lank leaped up and splashed his way to the bundle of sticks he’d dropped. He lifted one, then another, seeming to examine them by turn. Letta’d seen that same look of concentration on his face while trying to start a fire and holding a handmade spear in his hands. He had a plan.

Rubbing Lesley’s shuddering back, she said, “Hold on, Lesley. Lank’ll get you loose.”

Lank returned, holding one stick in his hands. He dropped into the water and jammed the stick in behind Lesley’s heel. Lesley screamed, and Letta muffled the sound by pressing his face to her chest. Lank, his lips crunched tightly together, pressed the stick sideways. The twig snapped, throwing Lank into the water. He came up spluttering, the shattered stick in his fist.

Hopelessness swept through Letta, making her legs weak. She trembled from head to toe as she held tight to her sobbing little brother and stared into Lank’s pale face. She was the oldest. She was supposed to take care of them all. But she couldn’t do anything for Lesley.

Water dripped from Lank’s clothes and hair. He shivered so hard his body went into spasms. “Guh-guh-gotta get huh-huh-help.”

Panic chased away the feeling of hopelessness. “We can’t! Nobody can know where we are!”

Lank shook his head, his expression turning stubborn. “Guh-guh-gotta!” He struggled toward the bank, his feet slogging through the water. He staggered free of the creek and shot a look of apology at Letta. “Uh-uh-I’ll be buhback soon as uh-uh-I cuh-cuh-can!” And then he took off running across the uneven ground.