Sharon Poppen Read Free Page A

turned her attention back to her stew without acknowledging them.
    She finished her meal with a sigh of satisfaction, then set her spoon down and reached for a sip of her coffee. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the couple leave. For some reason, this made her relax. Having taken care of her hunger and thirst, she eased back into her chair and stared out into the busy street. Her sense of purpose began nagging at her to make some plans. Should she start her search here, in this town?
    It was certainly busy , she thought, and would draw unsavory men like Drake to fleece any naïve Indians, newly arrived greenhorns or God fearing ranchers who sought some fun during their rare nights away from the routine loneliness of life on the sparsely populated range. Yes, she decided. This was a place that would attract a taker like Drake.
    “Ma’am? More?” The portly waiter was back and clearing away her dirty dishes.
    “Oh, no, thank you,” Hannah said as she stood up and handed him the money for her meal and an extra ten cents for the service.
    “Thanks. Come again,” he called to her back as she headed outside.
    “Hello,” said the nervous woman who was standing just outside the eatery door. She touched Hannah’s arm. “My name is Sister Bertha Hoskins. My husband, Reverend Noah Hoskins, is the preacher here in town.”
    Hannah’s eyes darted about, but there was no sign of the stern man.
    “My husband was concerned about you,” continued the woman. “You look like maybe you’ve had some trouble. He felt that perhaps he, that is, we could help you.”
    “My brother is coming…”
    “My husband says that you’re too tanned and too roughly dressed to have just arrived from back east.”
    Hannah wanted to deny the woman’s assessment, but knew it was true. She’d never pass for a new arrival. She also remembered that she had only $1.40 left. To stay in this town, she’d need a place to sleep and money to pay for food.
    What could be safer than to accept help from a preacher? Despite a nagging, uneasy feeling, Hannah nodded. “I guess I could use some help, at least for awhile.”
    Hannah thought she detected a fleeting look of dismay cross Sister Bertha’s face before a pinched smile preceded a slight nod. “Come.” She turned and began to walk. “I’ll take you to our home.”
    Hannah fell in step alongside Bertha. “Where’s your husband?”
    “Oh, he’s always busy with one thing or another trying to bring people into God’s spiritual fold. He’ll be along shortly.”
    Bertha settled Hannah into a small room just off the kitchen area and then started some laundry. Although Hannah attempted to talk to Bertha about the arrangements and what would be expected of her to pay the Hoskins for their kindness, Bertha said they’d discuss that when Noah got home.
    The women spent the afternoon heating water, filling washtubs and scrubbing clothes. Once the clothes were rinsed and hung to dry, Bertha began making supper. Noah arrived home at dusk, just as Bertha set the food on the table.
    After dinner was finished, Bertha poured two cups of coffee and began to clean up the kitchen. Noah asked Hannah how she came to be in Nacogdoches dressed so poorly and with little money. Hannah took a sip of coffee, and then looked at Noah. She was about to tell her story when Bertha dropped a cup and broke it.
    “I’m so sorry. Oh, Noah. I’m so sorry.” The terrified woman apologized in a voice filled with more fear, than the loss of any cup should engender.
    “Clean it up, woman.” Noah did not even look at Bertha, but his flash of disgust was not lost on Hannah. “Now, child, tell me how you came to be here.” His attempt at concern fell flat on Hannah’s ears and she made a decision to lie.
    “I ran away from home back east. I’ve been moving west as best I can for more than a year now.”
    “You must have some interesting stories to tell.” His eyebrows raised in interest.
    “Not really. Just lots of