These Tangled Threads by Sarah Loudin Thomas

Author:Sarah Loudin Thomas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Fiction;Christian Fiction;Novels;FIC042030;FIC074000;FIC014000
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2024-02-09T00:00:00+00:00

They hadn’t bothered to get a room. Once they made it back to Wheeling, it was just a few hours until their train was due. They made the best of the hard benches at the station to catch a few winks. Now they were settled on the train heading south, and as tired as he was, Arthur still couldn’t sleep.

For a while, he just watched Boyd sleep. The boy was sprawled in his seat, arms and legs flung wide. It was a pose of absolute abandon and gave Arthur hope that his brother trusted him. Of course, they both still had plenty to learn about each other.

Or maybe the deep sleep had something to do with the smell of liquor that Arthur had thought they’d left behind in the shack on the far side of the Ohio River. But no. The smell was clearly part of Boyd. In his clothes, in his pores, in each peaceful exhalation. What fifteen-year-old drank enough to smell like that? He hadn’t seemed drunk the night before, so maybe it was just a symptom of his circumstances. Once they got to Asheville, he’d get Boyd cleaned up and that should take care of it.

Arthur finally dozed, jerking awake as they slid into the Asheville station. He sat up to find Boyd fully awake, nose pressed to the window, trying to see everything at once.

“You live near here?” the boy asked.

“Not far.”

“You got a car?”

Arthur chuckled. “No, but I might one day. Once my business takes off.”

Boyd turned and narrowed his eyes. “What sorta business?”

“Woodworking.”

Boyd’s hand shot out and snatched one of Arthur’s before he could even think. The young man examined his palm like he was assessing a diamond for its cut and clarity. Finally, he pushed the hand away. “I guess you do real work. Is it timbering you mean? Woodcutting?”

“No, more like crafting and carving. I make furniture—bowls, frames, even some toys. That sort of thing.”

“No lie?”

“No lie. We’re headed to my shop. I’ll be glad to show you.” Arthur breathed in and breathed out. “I could even teach you a few things if you want to learn.”

Boyd looked at him sideways but didn’t say anything.

“Come on. It’s less than a mile. Think you can walk that?” Arthur had agonized over hiring a cart to take them. He wanted to help his brother, but he didn’t want to insult him. He figured if the boy could make it out to the place where he’d found him, he could do some traveling on that bum foot of his.

“I can walk it.”

Arthur wanted to ask Boyd a hundred questions as they walked out of Biltmore Village and headed south. But he pressed his lips together. He needed to let his brother settle in and get his bearings. There’d be time enough for questions later.

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