but it didn’t take much to buy a stale loaf of bread. As she waited, she pondered the various places the boys might buy food in Chestnut. There weren’t many. She bit her lip. Maybe she’d found another way to track them down. Tomorrow, she’d ask around.
A bump came from the building behind her. Livy pressed her check against the wall and listened again. A scrape and another bump sounded from within, followed by a muffled curse. Frowning, Livy tried to remember what the building housed. Her eyes widened—it was the gunsmith shop. Surely the boys wouldn’t . . .
She almost jumped clear out of her hiding place when a window no more than six feet away screeched open. Livy shrank against the wall, hoping the stack of crates hid her from view.
Why had she thought she could do this? Hadn’t she left her past behind?
Or was that why she had to do this?
A bag lowered to the ground; metal striking metal clanked loud in the silence. Next, the intruder let himself out the window, dangled by his fingertips for a moment, then lightly dropped to the ground, crouching as he took stock of his surroundings.
She peered from the crates, eyes glued to the thief. The very lack of moonlight that hid her from view kept her from seeing his features enough to recognize him if she saw him again. But he looked a sight bigger than the boys she’d seen on the streets. He turned, and she caught a glint of a pistol tucked into his waistband.
Livy didn’t move, didn’t breathe. She’d learned to be self-sufficient and not afraid of much of anything, but she feared a man—or anybody for that matter—with a gun. When he gathered up the sack and skulked to the end of the alleyway, she breathed a sigh. Just a few more minutes, and he’d be gone.
Thank You, Jesus.
“Hey, you. Stop!”
She started at the shout. Someone had spotted the thief. Not daring to linger, she took off in the opposite direction. Footsteps echoed off the dingy walls as the thief raced back down the alley, then crashed headlong into the stacked crates where she’d been hiding.
“Sheriff Carter. That way, toward Emma’s!”
Was that Jake? If he spotted her, he’d never understand.
She gathered her skirts and lit out, hoping and praying the ruckus would allow her to get away unscathed. Shots rang out, and she kept running. The thief raced after her, followed by his pursuers. They were gaining. On her? On him? No matter.
She had to hide.
Now.
Praying for guidance, she skidded to a stop, dropped, and rolled, wedging herself in the darkness cast by the rear porch of the nearest building. She lay there, willing her pounding heart to slow, her ragged breathing to quiet.
The thief raced by, the burlap bag bouncing over his shoulder. Thirty feet away, he slipped on a patch of ice and went sprawling, so close she felt the thud as his body slammed against the ground. She heard the metallic rattle of the contents of the bag as it tumbled from the thief’s grasp.
Livy shrank into the dark shadow of the porch and lay still. Please, Lord. Please.
The thief paid her no mind but scrambled up on one knee and faced his pursuers, gun pointed in the air above their heads. He squeezed off two shots, then jumped up and sprinted down an alley, leaving the sack behind.
His pursuers’ heavy boots shook the ground as they neared her hiding place. If possible, she drew into herself even more. A tall, broad-shouldered man rushed past, followed more slowly by a stockier man gasping for breath.
Jake and Sheriff Carter.
She willed her breathing to slow so that they wouldn’t hear her or see any movement. Her gaze narrowed to slits, keeping them in her sights, hoping and praying they’d never notice the dark lump huddled beside the building. Jake kept after the thief, but Sheriff Carter slowed to a walk as he neared the bag, leaning over and propping his hands on his knees.
He stayed like that for a long time, gulping in shuddering breaths. He groaned and clutched his chest. Had he been shot in the melee? Should she help him? She started to her feet but shrank back when Jake returned. The sheriff straightened, his breathing starting to return to normal.
“I lost him.” Jake hardly sounded winded.
Livy groaned inwardly, not daring to move a muscle. What would she do if Jake and Sheriff Carter discovered her? They’d never believe she didn’t have