A Heart's Blessing - Linda Ford Page 0,20

touched the preacher’s brow. “Who would rob and beat up a man of God?” He slowly brought his gaze to Delcie’s. She saw there a wealth of sorrow. As if the man had known pain.

He touched her shoulder. So briefly, his hand was gone before she had time to register the touch, but warmth lingered. Touched her heart in a way that startled her.

“Losing your cousin like that seems so meaningless. Children shouldn’t lose their parents.” His voice deepened, almost disappeared in the depths of his lungs. “Parents should not lose children.” He cleared his throat. “Sometimes it’s hard to trust God.”

She nodded, caught up in the web of pain his words brought to the forefront. “There was a time I wondered if I could trust Him.”

His gaze held hers. Deep blue, like the sky toward evening on a clear day. “Do you?”

She blinked.

“Do you trust Him?” he asked.

She nodded. “I decided I didn’t have a choice. It seemed that not trusting Him was far too dangerous.”

He grinned. “Talking to Sally today made me realize that if I believed He is always good, always loves us, takes care of the whole world, and never does wrong—lessons I learned at my mother’s knee—I could trust Him even when horrible things happen.” His attention returned to the preacher but Delcie wondered if he had his own reasons for doubts.

Laura came to the door. “Supper is ready.” The children peeked in around her, but she gently restrained them with a touch to their shoulders.

“Is it that time already?” Delcie looked from Preacher Peabody to Mr. Remington. Should she leave them? Could they both slip out to eat? Would the patient need them? He seemed very quiet. “He hasn’t regained consciousness.” She made up her mind. “Mr. Remington, you go and eat. I’ll stay here in case…”

Mr. Remington seemed to consider her suggestion. Then he pressed both hands to his thighs. “I wouldn’t feel right doing that. Why don’t we both go eat? If the door is open, we’ll hear if he stirs.”

Delcie could see no reason to object and understood that Laura would be uncomfortable if Mr. Remington sat at the table without Delcie to bolster her courage. She was about to hobble unassisted from the room when Mr. Remington rose and offered his arm. She hesitated for a heartbeat.

He grinned. “Don’t let stubbornness make you choose foolishly.”

“I’m not stubborn.” She clamped her hand to his arm and leaned heavily his direction. “I’m determined.”

He chuckled.

They made it to the table, and she sat. The children were already in place, eyes watchful.

She understood their anxiety. There’d been so many changes in their lives. They didn’t understand all the reasons, but they knew the fear of wondering if worse would come their way.

“Sally, Kent, the preacher has been hurt and we are going to take care of him until he’s better.”

Kent nodded. “I know. Auntie Laura told us.”

Sally’s eyes remained wide and fearful. “Is Mr. Remington going to help?”

Before Delcie could answer, the man himself did. “I will be here as long as I am needed.”

“Forever?” Hope filled Sally’s voice.

“I’ll be as close as next door.” He pointed toward his shop.

That seemed to satisfy the child.

His wise answer surprised Delcie and pleased her. Thank you, she mouthed.

He dipped his head in acknowledgment.

“Would you ask the blessing?”

His head bowed, he said the same words as yesterday. Left off the last phrase even as he did yesterday. Only now it made her curious. What had happened to her neighbor that made him struggle to trust God? Made him unable to thank God for those he loved?

4

Ryder was doubly thankful for the meal of thick soup and golden brown biscuits after his meager dinner. Hard to believe that was only a few hours ago. So much had happened it seemed weeks should have passed. Not the eating part, but the listening to the children, hearing what Miss Morton said, and caring for the preacher part.

His heart went out to the two children. Orphaned. But fortunate to have Miss Morton. It couldn’t be easy to take on the task. This was a time her stubbornness might have proven to be a good thing.

He was almost done eating when a groan came from the sick room. He hurried back to the preacher. The man’s eyes were open but unfocused and he thrashed about, his arms raised as if to ward off an attack. Poor man.

Ryder sat at his bedside and spoke softly. Thinking it would help the preacher to hear