Journey to Love (Angels of Mercy) by Hubbard Charlotte

Author:Hubbard, Charlotte [Hubbard, Charlotte]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781477831199
Published: 2012-10-09T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

She looked so pale, seated beside him as they drove through the morning mist, that Tucker didn’t know what to say. Had her letter contained bad news?

Or was she still smarting because those ladies in North Platte had mistaken her for her cold-blooded mother? He’d cringed at every detail Sheriff Carson shared with him last night while Polly and Mrs. Padgett washed the dishes. That incident would’ve sent any other girl back to Kansas, yet Christine seemed to ponder these things in her heart . . . a heart filled with longing he wasn’t sure he could satisfy.

He cleared his throat. “If you wish to board the train and return home—”

“No!” she said sharply.

She gathered her deep green cloak around her as though she felt cold to the core. “Please understand, Tucker, that I won’t rest—I can’t stop searching—until I’ve found Mama. If she’s desperate enough to deceive widows with cheap Bibles, what else might Wyndham convince her to do?”

She paused, blinking bravely, so he slipped his arm around her.

“You’re right, chérie,” he murmured. “No matter what Mrs. Padgett said, I can’t believe that your mother is cruel enough to fool—”

“She’s not smart enough!” Christine blurted. “Mama has the charm and manners to manipulate people, but she could never have devised such a clever, conniving way to take those ladies’ money.”

What an awful thing to say about her own mother. But it was true, wasn’t it? Mama had always gotten what she wanted—especially from Daddy—by playing the helpless, innocent victim. The rub of it was that she herself had perfected this talent. Christine gazed at the treeless prairie around them, thinking how those low-slung gray clouds signaled snow.

Perfect. They would be trapped inside the wagon again.

Tucker hated to see Christine worry. What should he suggest? Her heart was set on finding her mother . . . Denver would mean another detour that would take him away from his work—but wasn’t finding Mrs. Bristol the reason her daughter was along? Should he mention Virgilia had been there? Conducting séances?

Or should he save Christine from further humiliation and pain? He wasn’t sure he trusted Harley Carson’s information, anyway—and by now, Wyndham and his woman had probably moved on.

“The family—everyone there is doing well, oui?” he asked, hoping to draw her out of her sorrow.

Everyone did a fine job of ripping my heart out, yes, she wanted to say. Good thing she’d never considered them family.

Christine inched closer to his body’s warmth. “It was a very nice letter,” she answered in a detached voice. “Mercy says Reuben and Sedalia Gates are living in her little log house now, and Temple is minding the . . . children.”

Tucker felt the drop in temperature that preceded a storm, painted in swirling, muddy grays ahead. But the tempest brewing beside him was potentially more devastating. Christine wouldn’t be avoiding his gaze with a quivering lip simply from reading about the hired help.

Should he press for details, or leave her to her private misery?

He smiled, with the best intentions.

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