The Outlaw's Second Chance

Chapter Five

The whipping breeze was no less torrid than the curtains of sunshine that fell from the cloudless sky. Aubrey guided Cort’s horse at a steady pace and waved to her new neighbors. The man gestured with his hat in his hand, and the woman just lifted her chin. Sunlight glinted off their plow, which sat amid piles of sod cut for building. Her stomach churned with anxiety. She had never used a plow before, and the thought of using a hand plow rather than a horse-drawn one seemed tedious and difficult. But a plow of some sort would be necessary for her home, even if she couldn’t afford a plow or a horse. Borrowing from her neighbors might be the only option. Were they friendly? How long would their house take before she could start on hers? Aubrey couldn’t make out their features. From the corner of her eye, someone else caught her attention.

Cort.

He covered the land with long brisk strides, heading away from the neighbors toward her land. He’d set out earlier while Aubrey was giving Ben his breakfast. Cort had said he was helping the neighbors after she’d asked to ride his horse to Alva. They had carefully avoided each other this morning, speaking only as needed. But why was he headed back so early? Hopefully he wouldn’t get Ben all riled up.

Their conversation last night was not what she’d expected. Instead of upheaving his secret past, she’d unveiled his dependence on God’s grace. And for some reason, that was enough. He was a faithful man. With that came respect and admiration. Faith had been hard to come by living under Ed Huxley’s roof. Most days, her inability to forgive him only pushed her to a corner of guilt, not toward God at all.

Another reason why she needed to leave Kansas. She didn’t like herself while living with him. Maybe Pa would be easier to forgive at a distance?

She looked back one more time. Her breath caught.

Cort began to hesitantly wave his arm in her direction. Before she could get her hand up to wave back, the horse let out a loud whinny and jerked to a stop. Aubrey gasped, tightening her grip and facing forward again.

A toppled-over wagon stood in their path a few yards ahead. It hadn’t been there on her last ride to town. The ribs of the covered wagon lay crushed on one side while the canvas flapped in the breeze.

“Come on, boy.” Aubrey gently stroked the horse, but he stuck his hooves into the ground and refused to budge. “Are you spooked?” A rustle from the wreckage sent a shiver down Aubrey’s spine. It’d been a couple of days since the race. What if someone was trapped in the wagon? Or what if it was a ploy to get her off the horse and rob her? She’d lived her whole life with a thief, and this seemed to be an excellent opportunity for one.

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