Path of Freedom Read Free Page B

but after so many months of traveling, thee needs a break. Can he not find someone else this time?” His mother wrung her hands as she followed him to the back of the wagon, where he unhitched the latch and pulled down the gate.
    “I'm not sure, but I'll be fine, Mother. Thee knows if I don't go, Father will. He's content to let me take his place, but he won't stand by and let the Millikans miss out on what he thinks is an opportunity to save a life.”
    “It's so dangerous!”
    “Which is why Father should stay here. He can't handle the outdoor elements and the vigorous running and climbing over the mountains like he once did.”
    “Holly!” His father rode his horse in a canter toward them.
    Bruce and his mother walked to meet him where he had slowed to a stop. With the sun casting him in a silhouette from behind, his gray whiskers and sideburns looked white rather than gray beneath his black hat.
    “Some of the cows escaped.” He took a deep breath. “Part of the fence must have been weak.”
    “I'll help thee round them up,” Bruce offered.
    “Thee can help after unloading.” His father nodded toward the wagon. “Where's Silas?”
    “He was in the barn working on that harvest machine that Bruce made a while back,” Mother said. “Can't get it to work right.”
    “I'll need his help. He can work on that later.” Father started to pull away, but she reached up and laid a hand on his arm.
    “Eli, Bruce has another meeting with the pastor this evening.”
    His father paused, and his hazel eyes met Bruce's. “Do I need to be there?”
    “He didn't mention it,” Bruce said.
    “Well, all right, then. Let us know if it's another mission.” His father rode away.
    “I wish thee didn't have to go.” His mother sighed, watching her husband ride toward the barn.
    “It may not even be about a new mission. Pastor John may only want a report on the last mission to Indiana.”
    She grabbed his arm and smiled with relief. “Thee is right. I hadn't even thought of that. Perhaps that's all it is.”

2
    B ruce pulled up behind another wagon in front of Pastor John's small one-story house. Who else could he have invited? After a busy afternoon of putting away supplies and helping his brother round up cattle that had escaped through the broken fence, he was glad he'd had the foresight to bathe and dress in some decent, clean clothes. While he believed in the Quaker ways of dressing plain, he also believed in cleanliness and being presentable, especially in mixed company.
    He set the brake and glanced up at the waning sun casting its pinkish glow across the evening sky. Crickets sang from nearby bushes. Fireflies glowed with blinking yellow lights.
    Jumping to his feet, John's black Lab barked from the front porch. Bruce grinned at Shadow's tail wagging in excitement. Once Bruce had hopped down and walked around the wagon, the animal ran over and leaped up on him, greeting Bruce with a long, wet tongue. Bruce managed to turn his face just in time.
    “Shadow, down!” Pastor John gave a stern warning, as he stepped out onto the gray porch and crossed his arms. The dog dropped to all four feet and whimpered, lowering his head and walking back to his master, his tail no longer wagging.
    “Sit down.” John pointed at the ground beside his feet. “That's no way to greet our guest.”
    The dog plopped down into the exact spot with a pouting sigh.
    “Sorry about that.” John grinned and slapped a hand on Bruce's shoulder when he reached the steps. “Hope I caught him before he caused any damage.”
    “He's fine. I like dogs, and he knows it. I think he remembers me from my last visit.”
    “Come on in.” John opened the door and waved him inside.
    “I didn't know thee cooked.” The smell of chicken and dumplings teased his nose, mingled with the aroma of an apple pie. His tongue watered, and he gripped his rumbling stomach. He followed John through the living room and into the hallway.
    “I don't. At least not