forlorn look on her face. “You’re right, sweetheart, I can’t tell you what to do. But I will say this: I think you’re doing your father a great injustice. Part of the hurt you’re feeling is because you want to talk to him. I know he’ll listen and help you, and you know it too. Even with a broken leg he’s still the father who loves you with all his heart. He’ll not let you down.”
Amy sat and stared at Silas as the truth of his words came through to her. How many times had she asked God for help while possibly missing how close it had been all the time? “Thank you, Silas.” Amy spoke the words softly and moved to her bedroom. Silas blew out the lanterns and headed for his own room.
Grant lay quietly in his bed listening as Silas climbed the stairs to the attic. He stared at the ceiling, feeling old beyond his years and helpless. He wanted to pray but didn’t even know where to begin. After all he’d overheard tonight from the living room, the pain in his heart overpowered the pain in his leg. He felt a single tear slide down his temple, his heart cryingout to God as it had so many times past, “Please God, let Your will for Amy be as special as she is.”
“You got the note?”
“I got it.” The voice answering was sharp with anxiety.
“What’s it say? We got another job to do?”
“Patience man, this barn’s been standing alone for years. A light burning in here and we’re as good as found out.”
The testy man’s companion peered out into the ebony night. There didn’t appear to be anyone about, but one couldn’t be too careful. Suddenly the attention of both men was drawn upward by the sound of fluttering wings—bats, no doubt. Each man reacted in his own way—one suppressed a shiver, the other pulled his hat a bit closer about his ears, and whispered, “Well, if we can’t read it here, let’s get back to town.” The man was not about to admit his fear, but he nearly sagged with relief when his partner moved toward the horses.
As always the two were plagued by the identity of their employer, or rather the lack thereof. When at first their services had been employed, the jobs were nondescript and, even though the margin was narrow, within the confines of the law. But all this had changed a number of weeks back when they were asked to rob a farmhouse. The amount taken was very small, but it became obvious that they were being tested when the next farm robbery had yielded a substantially larger amount.
Even as the men climbed stairs at the back of the largest saloon in town and entered their room, each harbored a small hope within his breast that this note would give some clue as to the identity of the mysterious, darkly cloaked figure with whom they were doing business.
14
The letter began “Dear Silas” and it was from his grandmother. She wrote of herself and the family, along with asking many questions as to the welfare of the Nolan household. Silas had had precious few moments with his Grandma Em in the last month, what with his trip to Chicago and then leaving almost immediately for Neillsville. He missed her more than he thought possible. The letter was the next best thing to talking with her, but it made him feel the void of her missing presence all the more.
Unbidden, the fact came to Silas’ mind that his grandmother was not getting any younger. He couldn’t imagine life without her, and he immediately pushed the thought aside. She was with them now and he could see no reason to torture himself with images of a future without her.
An unfamiliar man’s voice drifted up through Silas’ open bedroom door to interrupt his musing. He listened for a moment from his place on the bed and caught sounds of Amy’s voice before setting his letter aside and descending the stairs to appease his curiosity.
“Oh Silas, I’m glad you came down,” Amy spoke the minute she spotted him. “This is Doc Schaefer. He’s here to check on Dad.”
The men shook
Amy sat and stared at Silas as the truth of his words came through to her. How many times had she asked God for help while possibly missing how close it had been all the time? “Thank you, Silas.” Amy spoke the words softly and moved to her bedroom. Silas blew out the lanterns and headed for his own room.
Grant lay quietly in his bed listening as Silas climbed the stairs to the attic. He stared at the ceiling, feeling old beyond his years and helpless. He wanted to pray but didn’t even know where to begin. After all he’d overheard tonight from the living room, the pain in his heart overpowered the pain in his leg. He felt a single tear slide down his temple, his heart cryingout to God as it had so many times past, “Please God, let Your will for Amy be as special as she is.”
“You got the note?”
“I got it.” The voice answering was sharp with anxiety.
“What’s it say? We got another job to do?”
“Patience man, this barn’s been standing alone for years. A light burning in here and we’re as good as found out.”
The testy man’s companion peered out into the ebony night. There didn’t appear to be anyone about, but one couldn’t be too careful. Suddenly the attention of both men was drawn upward by the sound of fluttering wings—bats, no doubt. Each man reacted in his own way—one suppressed a shiver, the other pulled his hat a bit closer about his ears, and whispered, “Well, if we can’t read it here, let’s get back to town.” The man was not about to admit his fear, but he nearly sagged with relief when his partner moved toward the horses.
As always the two were plagued by the identity of their employer, or rather the lack thereof. When at first their services had been employed, the jobs were nondescript and, even though the margin was narrow, within the confines of the law. But all this had changed a number of weeks back when they were asked to rob a farmhouse. The amount taken was very small, but it became obvious that they were being tested when the next farm robbery had yielded a substantially larger amount.
Even as the men climbed stairs at the back of the largest saloon in town and entered their room, each harbored a small hope within his breast that this note would give some clue as to the identity of the mysterious, darkly cloaked figure with whom they were doing business.
14
The letter began “Dear Silas” and it was from his grandmother. She wrote of herself and the family, along with asking many questions as to the welfare of the Nolan household. Silas had had precious few moments with his Grandma Em in the last month, what with his trip to Chicago and then leaving almost immediately for Neillsville. He missed her more than he thought possible. The letter was the next best thing to talking with her, but it made him feel the void of her missing presence all the more.
Unbidden, the fact came to Silas’ mind that his grandmother was not getting any younger. He couldn’t imagine life without her, and he immediately pushed the thought aside. She was with them now and he could see no reason to torture himself with images of a future without her.
An unfamiliar man’s voice drifted up through Silas’ open bedroom door to interrupt his musing. He listened for a moment from his place on the bed and caught sounds of Amy’s voice before setting his letter aside and descending the stairs to appease his curiosity.
“Oh Silas, I’m glad you came down,” Amy spoke the minute she spotted him. “This is Doc Schaefer. He’s here to check on Dad.”
The men shook
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