Many Sparrows by Lori Benton

Author:Lori Benton [Benton, Lori]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WaterBrook
Published: 2017-08-28T18:30:00+00:00

It was the third night. The moon was high and bright, the sky a web of stars against the black. Though her path was well lit, it took longer than Clare planned to traverse the maze of lodges without arousing the alarm of man, woman, or dog. Wishing to kindle no suspicion by setting aside provisions, she’d brought little besides Pippa and her cradleboard, into which she now secured the sleeping baby, the noise of the procedure covered by the chatter of the creek at the wide bend where she intended to cross. She had clouts for the baby, a blanket from her bed, a wildly beating heart, and, contrarily, a weight of regret that had increased with each step taken from Jeremiah, asleep in Wolf-Alone’s lodge.

She didn’t like to dwell on what he would think when he found her gone. He’d proven himself a good man, despite his choice to live among heathens. She’d been fortunate he’d come along in her time of need. But things had taken an unexpected turn at Yellow Creek. She understood why he’d failed to keep his promise. So now that she’d taken matters in hand and would soon be reunited with her son, why did she feel as though she was failing in some way?

She would sort it out, but not tonight. Tonight only Jacob mattered. And escape for them all.

With Pippa secure in the cradleboard, she removed her moccasins and felt her way across the stones of the creek. She didn’t slip. Pippa wasn’t jarred awake. She reached the other side, donned her footwear, and made her way downstream to the spot where she was meant to meet Jacob. As she crept along the creek bank under the starry sky, stepping cautiously for fear of snakes and roots, it was all she could do not to call his name, aching to hear him call back from the riverine darkness ahead.

She would miss Jeremiah. She’d let down her guard with him these past days, much more than she’d intended to do. Without the constant strain of her need and his inaction souring the air between them, she’d felt free to simply be with him. She’d found a surprising pleasure in his tenderness with Pippa, how he’d been the one to illicit her first laugh. He could be gruff at times, aloof for no apparent reason, but he was also calm and patient and—

Ahead in the darkness a stick snapped.

A voice spoke. Another answered, sharp with surprise. Both were masculine, and they went on speaking, barreling over each other, rising with unmistakable anger and challenge until she could make out their disputing words.

“You won’t do it again!”

It took an eternity to cover the last brushy yards and emerge into the clearing where Jean-Paul Cheramy was meant to be awaiting her. He was there, with a string of laden pack mules—Clare smelled them before her eyes picked out their bulky shapes. The trader’s pale hair identified him, struggling on his knees in the grip of…was

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