what if she vowed to pay back all the money someday? Considering recent events, surely God would understand.
On the chance that money waited in that silver plate, Honor crept to the window. Even at a distance, she could see several coins and a number of bills. Her throat tightened. Her fingers shook as she reached her hands forward and scooped up all of the money they could hold. As she turned back to the wooden bench, she heard someone coming.
Trembling, she slipped into the nearest pew and stretched out to hide. The faint tap, tap of footsteps on the brick floor drifted up from the entry of the church. Honor dared not move.
Chapter Two
A man and woman whispered to each other as they moved down the aisle of the church. Honor held her breath. Now what? The squeak of old wood told her that they had selected a pew not far behind her. The scent of lilacs filled the air.
“Annie,” Honor heard the man say. “I know your poor old bones are tired, because mine are, too. But, honey, do you really think it’s all right for us to sit in here ’til the stage leaves? Why, we ain’t even members of this church.”
“A church is God’s house, Simon, no matter where it is,” the woman answered. “Besides, I reckon if you put something in the plate—under that there winder—it should take care of everything.”
Honor froze. If the man named Simon came over to the window to put money in the plate, he might be able to see her crouched on the pew. Slowly, not making a sound, she inched along the pew, out of the light coming in from the window and into the shadows.
“Well, Simon. Are you gonna put something in or ain’t you?”
Simon groaned. “Oh, all right. I’ll put in a coin or two if that will satisfy you.”
“Thank you, dear.”
“So now I’m ‘dear,’ huh?”
Another squeak of the wooden bench indicated that the man had left the pew and was headed for the window. Honor shut her eyes. A minute later, the bench creaked again. She didn’t feel safe, but at least she hadn’t been discovered yet.
For the next hour, Honor learned more about Annie and Simon than she cared to know. Their conversation held no interest for her, but it assured her that they were harmless. The elderly couple planned to visit their daughter in Pine Falls. Honor wondered if she had enough money to travel that far. She still hadn’t counted her loot.
Loot? Why, I’m nothing more than a common thief, she thought.
A lump lodged in her throat when she contemplated what she’d become. Not in her worst nightmare had she ever envisioned that she would stoop so low.
Simon’s offering in the silver plate couldn’t possibly add up to the amount of money Honor had taken. A feeling of shame swept over her. She wanted to tell God she was sorry for what she’d done, but she didn’t know how. The only prayer that Honor knew was one Harriet had taught her before they stopped going to church, and years had passed since she’d recited that one.
But she remembered how it began. Our Father, who art in Heaven.
The sun had risen over the horizon now and was beaming through the east window. Inching back along the pew, closer to the light, Honor reached for a hymnal. When Lucas wasn’t around, sometimes her aunt had enjoyed singing hymns as she did her daily chores. She said that church music gave her strength.
Strength. Honor could use some of that.
Flipping through the songbook, she didn’t find any of the hymns her aunt had once sung, but she noticed some blank sheets of paper near the back of the book, titled “Note Pages.”
She considered using one of the sheets to compose a note, a letter to members of the church. And what better place to write it than the back of a hymnal? She reached for the pencil that was in a slot on the bookshelf, and began to write.
Dear Church People,
I hated to steal the money from the collection plate, and I wrote in the hymnal, too. I know I did wrong, but I was once told that the collection money went to the minister and to the poor and needy. Well, I’m poor and might need money more than the preacher does.
You see, I have to leave town today. If I don’t, my uncle will beat me and force me to marry him. He might even kill me.
Thank you for leaving the money in that plate so I could find it when I needed it the most. If I knew how to pray, I would tell God I am sorry for what I did. Since I don’t, would you folks please pray for me?
As soon as I can find a job, I promise to pay back everything I took, a little at a time.
Yours truly,
H.
Honor placed the songbook back on the shelf. She was wondering if there was a way for her to count her money without making a sound, when the bell in the tower suddenly pealed six times. Honor flinched each time. Somebody had to be pulling the rope to ring that bell, but she hadn’t heard a sound above her all night long. Yet, someone other than Annie and Simon was nearby. The minister? If he came down and saw her in the church or the churchyard, might he stop her from leaving?
The bench behind her squeaked, cutting off her racing thoughts. Honor didn’t move a muscle.
“Wake up, Simon,” Annie said. “It’s time to go.”
“What? Oh. Well, I wasn’t asleep no-how.”
“You were, too.”
“No, I was just resting my eyes,” Simon insisted.
“You can rest your eyes when we get on the stage.” There was fond exasperation in the woman’s voice. “Get up now, Simon. We have to get out of here. It’s six o’clock. The stage leaves at six-thirty, and we still have to buy our tickets.”
The bench creaked several times. Then Honor heard the tap, tap of their shoes as they moved back up the aisle. When the heavy front door of the church closed, Honor cautiously sat up and began to quietly count her money.
She had ten dollars and fifty-one cents, more than she had dreamed of finding. She could go to Pine Falls, for sure. That much money might take her all the way to Denver.
She’d almost reached the entry of the church when she saw the shape of a man in the shadows to the left of the door. Though she couldn’t actually see him, she felt him—and there was something in the air between them, a kind of regret. Was it coming from him? Or was it her distress?
Guilt engulfed her. Did he know what she’d done? Would the man try to stop her to recover the money? She hesitated by the door, waiting to see what he might do. But he never said a word.
“I’m sorry,” Honor whispered.
Without saying more, she raced out the door and down the path toward the livery stable where stagecoach tickets were sold. Once the stage pulled out, she would never have to see Lucas or Falling Rock, Colorado, again.
Honor waited in the carriage with Annie and Simon for the fourth passenger to arrive. The silver-haired couple looked older than she had expected, and she learned
