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minds.”
    “But that was back East,” Uncle Arjan countered. “Texas isn’t exactly known for doin’ things like the rest of the country. I’ve seen the book of rules get thrown out more’n once.”
    “And that might very well work to your benefit.” Mr. Decker paused and picked up his fork once more. “The most Mr. Albright could do is demand you begin log distribution to him again. That, of course, will mean he’ll have to pay for those logs, and you will have the money you need. I do not see a problem with the situation.”
    “We’ve got good friends to the north who own mills and would probably agree to the arrangement,” Mother said. “They go way back with this family.”
    “Why don’t I go with G.W. and Arjan, and we’ll visit these folks,” Mr. Decker suggested. “I could assure them of the legalities and put to rest any concerns.”
    “We can use the excuse of picking up our horses in Lufkin. Jefferson Marshall was expecting us to fetch them most any day now,” Arjan said. “And if anyone asks, we won’t have to lie about why we’re there.”
    G.W. nodded. “We can also pick up a few supplies.”
    Deborah could hear a collective sigh of relief from around the table. She certainly hoped this was the answer they were looking for. If not, G.W. had made it clear serious financial problems would soon befall them. She had offered the money she’d set aside, but G.W. refused it. He told her the day might well come when they’d have no other choice, but for now, there were still alternatives. It appeared Mr. Decker had just widened the possibilities considerably. Now, if Christopher would just return or telegraph to let her know what was going on, all would be well.
    “We can leave tomorra,” G.W. declared. “We’ll start up in Lufkin. The logs won’t even have to pass through town at all; no one even needs to know what we’re doing.” He got up from the table and looked to their mother. “Could you watch the babies for a spell? I want to make sure Lizzie is all right.”
    Mother nodded. “Of course. She needs you.”
    Deborah watched her brother leave, wishing she could go with him. Lizzie was her dear friend, and she wanted to offer her comfort. But Mother was right. Lizzie needed G.W. more than anyone else.
    She let out a heavy sigh and picked at her food. If she didn’t hear soon from Christopher, she might well go mad.

     
    After sleeping a little more than two hours, Christopher arose and went quickly to work. He decided it would be best to be gone when the children came home. That way, Mrs. Maynard could let them know he was in town and that he would be back to speak with them. Christopher hoped it would allow them a little time to deal with the surprise of his presence, given that Mrs. Maynard had not mentioned to them that she’d sent a telegram. Not only that, but there was plenty to be accomplished.
    First, he needed transportation, and Mrs. Maynard assured him a livery was just a few streets away. As he walked, Christopher made a mental list of what needed to be done. He should telegraph Deborah, then make his way to the funeral home to see what kind of debt was owed. Mrs. Maynard had also informed him that the children had little more than the clothes on their backs. Something would have to be done about that.
    The livery was exactly where Mrs. Maynard had directed. A tall beanpole of a man welcomed him.
    “Name’s Rothberg. Need a saddle ride or a buggy?”
    “A horse for now,” Christopher replied. “I’m Christopher Clay . . . Kelleher. Mrs. Maynard sent me over.”
    The man nodded and sobered. “Sure was sorry about your folks.” He motioned Christopher into the stable. “I have a gelding over here. One of my best.”
    “That will be fine.” Christopher noted the sturdy-looking chestnut. He was a tall one, just like the man, and looked to have some Arabian blood.
    “Your folks was good people.” He quickly cinched the saddle. “Your brother Jimmy used