tiny robins hop from branch to branch, singing merrily to each other. Squirrels darted up the broad, grooved tree trunks, searching for acorns. Buttercups and dandelions dotted the forest floor.
God’s touch was evident in every insect, every petal, every leaf.
Oh, Father, I miss You so much sometimes it hurts.
Evan shook his head, wondering how much longer he could take living like this.
He scanned the forest, noting that the trees were beginning to thin and that it appeared brighter in the distance. He was headed for a clearing. Lifting his hat, he wiped his forehead with his sleeve, too lazy at this point to dig in his pocket for a hanky.
Where was she?
He took a long swallow from his canteen, screwed the lid back on, and started walking again.
Ignoring Art’s sidelong glances, Juliana stared into the fire. What now?
“Sit down.” Fitz motioned with his half-empty whiskey bottle.
Her appetite had fled at the sight of him. Now bile rose up in her throat at the thought of having to share a meal with the outlaw.
When she hesitated, he leaned over and seized her upper arm, forcing her to sit down hard. Ducking her head, Juliana swallowed an anguished groan. Surely any sign of weakness would only stir his anger.
Art was silent. Still, she sensed his frustration as he plopped down beside her.
Fitz sat opposite her. With his bare fingers, he snatched the meat from the still-sizzling skillet, tore off a big hunk and dropped it on a flat green leaf. “Enjoy it.” He leered viciously. “Might be your last.”
Juliana ignored him. She pulled off tiny bits and somehow managed to swallow without choking. Nauseous from the rush of adrenaline, her stomach protested but she managed to keep it down.
Lord Jesus, please help me think of a way out of this mess. Give me wisdom and courage. I need You desperately.
“Did you leave Harrison alive or dead?” Fitz grunted, wiping his sleeve across his greasy mouth.
She lifted her eyes to meet his and was shocked by the coldness and hatred there. This was a person with absolutely no morals, a person who wouldn’t think twice about hurting or even killing another human being.
How foolish she’d been to leave Evan Harrison’s protection! He was an outlaw, yes, but he hadn’t harmed her. He had even promised to escort her home!
With Lenny Fitzgerald calling the shots, her life could be over in the blink of an eye.
“Last I saw him, he was alive and well,” she said.
“How did you manage to steal his horse?”
“He let his guard down.”
“We won’t do that, will we, Art?” Fitzgerald shot Art a warning glare.
Juliana swallowed hard. This conversation was going nowhere fast. Her gaze darted around, looking for a weapon of some kind. If she could delay him just long enough for her to get a head start, she was sure Lucky could outrun his mount. Besides, the man was half-drunk. He’d be slower than normal.
Her gaze landed on the cast-iron skillet resting above the flames. Melted fatback popped and hissed. An idea seized her, and she acted on it before she could change her mind.
Leaning forward, she reached out a hand. “Mind if I help myself to some more meat?”
He eyed her a moment, then shrugged his beefy shoulders.
Inhaling deeply, she grabbed the handle and slung the skillet upwards, the burning hot liquid spilling out to splatter across his face and neck. He yelped in pain, his hands clawing at his face.
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