Read Online A Lady Like Sarah by Margaret Brownley - Free Book Online Page B

Justin argued, then caught himself . He had no right to quarrel with a wounded man. "I'm sorry," he said, his tone beseeching. "It's just. . . not right."
    "It's not our . . . decision." Owen's voice faded away.
    Justin sighed and let his gaze travel toward the stream. The trees hid Sarah from view, but there was no hiding from the fate that awaited her.
    "What happens if you don't bring her in?"
    "A U.S. Marshal doesn't get paid until he delivers the goods." Owen's voice was barely more than a whisper, each word sounding more strained than the one before it. He coughed so hard that his whole body shook. Catching his breath, he gasped for air and closed his eyes.
    Justin laid a hand on top of Owen's and said a silent prayer. Dear heavenly Father, Almighty God, Creator of heaven and earth . . .
    He finished the prayer, but even after asking for God's help, he felt no peace. He felt. . . nothing. Here in the wilderÂness God's handiwork was everywhere, from the magnificent sky to the tiniest blade of grass beneath his feet. Yet, never had he felt more distant from God, more alone. He stared across the endless Missouri plains and thought about the Israelites wandering the desert. God had tested them as He now appeared to be testing Justin.
    He lifted his eyes to the heavens. "I sure do hope it doesn't take me forty years to pass Your test, God," he said. He sighed and reached for the cloth on Owen's forehead. The man was still burning with fever.
    Owen stirred and regarded Justin through half-shut eyes. "You . . . you promised to take her to Texas. If you can't trust a man of God—"
    "She took the bullet out of your shoulder. She saved your life."
    Owen said something, but his voice was so weak, his words were nothing more than a wisp of air. Justin leaned over until his ear was mere few inches from Owen's quivering lips. "What did you say?"
    "I said . . . There's a generous reward for her capture." He gasped before continuing. "A. . . A fire escape like you could do a lot of good with that kind of money."
    Justin shook his head. "That's blood money. I don't want any part of it."
    "Then maybe you'd be good enough"—Owen coughed— "to . . . to see that my wife gets it. Raising three young'uns by herself. . . she'll need all the help she can get."
    Justin pulled back and regarded Owen with grave concern. He wanted to say something, anything, to put the man's mind at ease, his worries to rest. He wanted to tell him he wasn't going to die, that he would see his children reach adulthood. But Justin had sat by enough deathbeds to recognize the near- end of life. To lie would deny Owen the chance to put his worldly concerns aside and prepare himself to meet his Maker.
    He squeezed the lawman's hand. "Where can I find your family?"
    "About. . ." His voice grew weaker. "Two miles outside of Rocky Creek. They sent me to Missouri to fetch the prisoner and bring her back." After a beat, he murmured, " My. . . my family. . .?"
    Justin leaned close. "You have my promise. I will do whatÂever I can to help your family." He didn't know how or even if he could help them, but he was determined to try.
    Owen stared up at the sky for several long moments before his eyelids drooped shut.
    Justin pulled out his Bible and read the Twenty-Third Psalm in a low, mellow voice. "The Lord is my shepherd . . ." He had committed the psalm to memory, of course, but he found that by reading it, he always discovered some new meanÂing, some depth of understanding that had previously escaped him.
    The words seemed to have an immediate effect. Owen's breathing slowed, and he seemed less agitated.
    One of Justin's early mentors told him to listen carefully whenever he attended a birth or death. Justin followed the older preacher's advice and was amazed to discover that a newborn babe's first breath made a yah sound and the last breath of the dying sounded like weh . Yahweh. The biblical name for God.
    No sooner had Justin finished the psalm than he