All Roads Lead Home. Christine Johnson
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the line tight, the first stake came loose. With a growl of frustration, she mopped her brow with the back of her hand.
“The ground’s so hard,” she muttered. “I can’t get it in.”
Hendrick wanted to help. Perspiration ran down her forehead, and her hair curled around her face in damp little tendrils that begged to be touched. But she would only yell at him and insist that she didn’t need his help. So he watched her try and try without success.
Finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore. “I’d be glad to give it a go.”
Naturally she scowled at him. “Did I ask for your help?”
He wanted to rip the mallet from her hands and get the job done. Why did she have to be so stubborn?
Then Anna giggled. She tried to hold back, so it came out in a snort, but she couldn’t maintain control for long and a second later burst out laughing.
Mariah frowned, but apparently Anna’s laughter didn’t irk her as much as his because before long she started to giggle, too. Her prickly-porcupine attitude eased, and she handed him the mallet. “See if you can make any headway.”
They traded places, and in minutes he had the tent up and ready for their blankets and clothing.
“Which bag has the other tent?” he asked.
Mariah swiped damp hair from her brow. “I, uh, didn’t count on company.”
No second tent. He couldn’t very well sleep with the women. That left only one option.
“I’ll take the car.” He’d have to sleep sitting up or curled into a ball, but it was the only option that kept him out of the weather.
Mariah’s lips formed a perfect rosebud. Her cheeks glowed from the exertion. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to bring another tent. Thank you.” She tugged at a curl, the hat long ago discarded and her bobbed hair flying out in every direction. “We can take turns.”
But of course they couldn’t. He wouldn’t let the women get all cramped in the car.
“We’ll get another tent at the first outfitter,” she said.
“Don’t waste your money.” He was still too aware of the wad of bills in his pocket, not to mention the hole in his heart. “The car will be fine.”
After supper, Mariah conscripted Anna to help her scrub the dirty dishes in the creek while Hendrick checked the car’s tires. Camping reminded her of family trips to the Catskills. Dad would rent a cabin for a couple weeks each summer. He wanted his children to know how to survive in the wilderness, so he took them out on short expeditions, teaching them how to build a fire, how to tell which plants were edible and how to fish. Gabe loved it, but she whined about the damp and the dirt and finally talked Dad into letting her skip the trips. Now she wished she’d stuck with it.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Anna exclaimed after handing Mariah the last pan. She stretched and spun around to take it all in.
Mariah didn’t consider an Illinois roadside beautiful. High clouds streaked the sky, but the grass and corn didn’t provide much of a view. Forty feet away, Hendrick bent over the rear tire on the far side of the car. He couldn’t possibly hear what they were saying. That gave her a chance to ask Anna something that had been bothering her since they left, something that the girl’s disappearance that afternoon had highlighted.
“Anna?” Mariah touched the girl’s arm to capture her attention. “Could I ask a favor of you?”
The girl stopped spinning. “Of me?”
There was no easy way to say this. “I don’t have anything against your brother. He’s a fine and honorable man. It’s purely about propriety. As a single woman…” She let her voice trail off for emphasis. “I shouldn’t be alone with an unmarried man, especially after dark. Could you ensure we’re never alone together?”
Anna shrugged her shoulders. “If you want.”
“Thank you,” Mariah breathed, relieved that Anna had agreed so readily. There’d be no repeat of the episode at the beach, no teasing of her emotions and no chance he’d fall in love with her again.
With that worry gone, she could enjoy the sunset. Mariah stacked the dried dishes and carried them back to the campsite where Anna helped her put them back in the canvas bag. Then the three of them settled on the grass. At first they chatted about what they’d seen that day, but as the sun streaked the undersides of the clouds pink, all conversation stopped. Anna swatted at a cloud of gnats while Hendrick pulled out a stalk of wheatlike grass and nibbled on the end. Mariah remembered doing that as a child. How long had it been since she saw the world with fresh eyes? Even while caring for Luke two summers ago, she’d bustled about doing chores, never stopping to experience his world.
She plucked a stalk of grass and tasted its tender, sweet end, rich with the promise of summer. God’s golden sunlight had seeped into the earth where the plants drank it up. Tonight that light shimmered in the air and streaked the sky in hues of pink and red and violet.
“Nothing can top the Lord’s paintbrush,” she said softly.
Anna murmured agreement, but Hendrick gave her a look that swept over her like gale-driven waves. Both pain and longing and something else. Was it hope or despair?
This trip must be difficult for him. His presence certainly upset her composure. Suddenly, she had to consider his feelings. It wasn’t just what she wanted. He was there, always there, within arm’s reach. And his thoughts were so transparent. She hoped he didn’t read her so easily.
He tossed away his stalk of grass. “What are you going to do once we get to Montana?”
“Get Mr. Gillard to sign the termination-of-parental-rights papers.” The memory of Luke playing Geronimo made her voice catch. “I can’t risk Luke’s happiness.”
Anna rolled onto her stomach, chin propped on her hands. “Who is Mr. Gillard, and what does he have to do with Luke?”
Mariah realized that she’d never filled in Anna and Hendrick. They were far from Felicity and Luke now. She took a deep breath. “Frank Gillard claims he’s Luke’s father, and says he wants his son back.”
Her eyes widened, the pupils black in the declining light. “You don’t think he really is Luke’s father?”
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