Edge of the Wilderness - By Stephanie Grace Whitson Page 0,26

rather unto the furtherance of the gospel.” Simon hoped to use Philippians to encourage the prisoners at Davenport.

A commentator had mentioned the Roman guards who heard the gospel because of being assigned to the apostle Paul. Simon hadn’t thought of it before, but now he wondered how many U.S. soldiers had heard the gospel because of their assignment in Mankato, where the prisoners held prayer meetings twice daily and heard preaching at least once a day. It was interesting food for thought, and it resulted in Simon’s looking forward to his ministry in the prison camp at Davenport. Perhaps God would do something through him down there, after all.

For the moment, though, Simon was content to sit alone in the dark thinking back over the previous day’s events. He had done his best to “walk in a manner worthy to his calling,” and he felt strangely content with whatever reaction Genevieve LaCroix displayed when she learned what he had done. He had already cross-examined himself innumerable times in that regard. As much as he could tell, he had taken action as much for himself as for her. No, he thought with a new sense of joy, he wasn’t trying to manipulate her feelings at all. He had simply done what he thought best for everyone concerned. He certainly had no doubt that he had accomplished what was best for Hope.

Footsteps sounded on the narrow staircase that connected the kitchen with the back upstairs hall. Snatching up his Bible, Simon made for the back porch, but before he could get there Gen called his name. He turned back into the room just as she lit the gaslight over the table. She apparently had dressed in haste, for her hair hung in one thick braid across her shoulder. She pulled the note he had slid under her door the night before out of her pocket. Looking down at it she stuttered, “I— How—” She sat down at the table and pushed the note across the table toward him. “How can this be true?” She reached up trying to smooth a dozen tendrils of dark hair back from her face.

Simon smiled. “It’s true. Samuel Whitney witnessed the signing of the papers yesterday evening in the offices of Marshall & Dodd. The Pottses were booked passage on the Abigail and settled into their room last night in preparation for the trip back downriver.” He tucked his Bible under his arm.

“And Hope stays with us?” Gen asked.

He nodded. “All the Pottses wanted was five hundred dollars.”

“But Simon,” Gen asked, frowning slightly, “where did you get five hundred dollars?”

He winked. “You didn’t know I was independently wealthy, did you?” He turned to go. “It’s been taken care of. That’s the important thing. I’ll be back in time for breakfast.”

Gen called out, “I’ll only ask Samuel if you won’t tell me. But I’d rather hear it from you.”

He turned back around and leaned against the door frame. “I had some money saved,” he said vaguely.

“Just last week we were wondering how to pay for Aaron’s schoolbooks,” Gen said in disbelief.

Simon walked to where she sat and patted her hand. “The only thing you need to know is that Hope is securely with us. The Pottses agreed to appoint me her legal guardian and they gave up all rights to her, which, according to the attorney, means if we ever so desire we can adopt her.” He turned to go. “I hope you don’t mind that I gave her my last name. I thought it would be easier for her in the future if she shared Meg and Aaron’s family name.

Gen snatched his hand up. “Your wedding ring—” She touched the white band of exposed flesh where the ring had been, then looked up at him, her eyes filling with tears. “Oh, Simon—you sold your wedding ring?”

He pulled his hand away and shoved it in his pocket.

She moved his coat open a little and peeked at his vest pocket. “And your gold watch—and that gorgeous fob Mrs. Leighton sent out for Christmas—” She stood up, clutching his coat lapel. “What else? What else did you sell, Simon?” When he looked away nervously, her eyes widened and she half whispered, “Not Ellen’s wedding ring? Not the diamond—oh, Simon—that was her grandmother’s—it was for Meg—”

“Both Ellen and Meg would have granted permission had they known the situation,” he said firmly. “What is important is that Hope is secure in a new life where she is loved far more than gold