A Cowboy's Promise By: Linda Ford

Chapter 9

It took the better part of a day to go to the coal mine and return. This was his third trip. Holt welcomed the reprieve. Almost as much as he minded it.

In spite of himself, he'd been drawn back to the cozy little room for breakfast with Lizzie, Emma and Mr. Tate. It was sweet agony, reminding him of the kind of life he would never enjoy. 

Now, as he huddled on the wagon seat, shrugged up inside his coat against the cold wind, he decided to focus on things he was happy about rather than the things he couldn't have.

Mr. Tate was still too weak to get out of bed on his own but decidedly stronger than the first day, when he'd collapsed on the floor. This morning he had sat up in bed and fed himself. 

Lizzie hadn't been able to stop smiling. "He's made a turn for the better," she'd remarked. 

"I 'spect it will take a few days for him to regain his strength." 

"I know, but it's been so long since he fed himself." 

Holt had allowed himself to squeeze her shoulder briefly. "I'm glad. For all of you." 

She'd leaned into his touch. Or had he only wished that? Dreamt it? He comforted himself with the assurance that there had been no mistaking the flash of gratitude in her eyes. Whether for his encouragement or her father's improvement he couldn't guess. But he could hope it was partly the former. Yes, it was definitely a good thing he had several all-day trips to make. 

Yet every day meant those who hunted him were that much closer. They should have overtaken him by now. He pretended he didn't feel the fear boiling through his insides. God must have intervened in some way in order to allow Holt this respite. 

Dark shadows already filled the hollows as he headed down the lone street of Buffalo Hollow toward the store. The wind had increased in intensity, bringing with it the smell of snow. 

He studied each doorway, each lamp-lit window carefully, letting his breath whistle past his teeth when he saw no one that made him think he should leave in a hurry. 

God in heaven, You see how this family needs help. I'm more than prepared to lend it, but I'm trusting You to hold the bad weather and my pursuers off until I can cross the forty-ninth.

He pulled up to the coal shed, backed the wagon as close as he could and began to shovel the coal inside. Once he finished, he returned the horse and wagon to the livery barn. The man on duty seemed bored, and Holt saw an opportunity to get some information. "Anyone coming and going today?" He kept the tension from his voice and hoped the man would think his question only idle conversation. 

"Nope. Most people got the good sense to stay home with snow threatening."

"'Spect that's so." His mind somewhat at ease, Holt hurried to the store, entering through the rear door that he had repaired. 

He smiled as Emma ran to him. "You're back." 

"Yup." His gaze shifted to Lizzie and his heart soared at her smile of welcome.

"Feels like snow. Glad you got here before it comes." 

"Me, too." Except...he should be riding north ahead of the snow. He dare not get trapped here for the winter—they'd find him for sure. Holt could practically feel the noose around his neck. But he had given his word to Mr. Tate that he'd make sure this family was prepared for the cold weather, and not even the fear of hanging would make him leave before he'd done that.