Musing #72 - Chapter 12

Andrea Carter Prescott and the Return of the Outlaws

CHAPTER 12. Go HERE to start this story from the beginning.

Andi groaned as she placed a heavy load of firewood down and yet still felt the sting of burns on her raw, chapped hands. They shook with cold, yet burned with pain. Her cheeks were flushed crimson, and her teeth chattered.

          So much for us staying at the camp for only a little while, Andi thought bitterly, rubbing her hands together for warmth. That “little while” had turned into four long, work-filled months that felt more like years to poor Andi. The November air seemed especially icy this year.

          And yet as bad as Andi’s hands ached, and her neck and back screamed with pain, the ache in her heart was a thousand times worse. She yearned to be with Riley again. And hold her son in her arms. And be in her house.

          And be away from every bandit she’d ever heard of.

          Here at the camp she seemed to work nonstop, and with no mercy from any of her “jefes.”  A darker tan than she’d ever worn before had settled over her skin, and her blue eyes were dark and lifeless. The Mexicans fed her well, but anxiety had its obvious toll on her. She was beginning to look thin and haggard.

          I wonder if Riley would even recognize me. Passing by Benita’s mirror one day, Andi hardly recognized herself. The sparkle and joy had totally left her. She was droopy and frightened.

          Lord, Andi prayed now as she stacked the firewood neatly, help me. Please, help me. She blinked hard to keep back the hot tears threatening to spill.

          Recently, she’d found herself praying nothing else. She tried to focus on good, happy things, but it’d been so long. It seemed that all that flooded her mind now were doubts and worries.

          Surely any posse has given up on finding me by now. I will never be found. Never!

          You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You.

          The verse, with no warning, suddenly popped into Andi’s head. She’d tried to concentrate on many others, like “Be strong and courageous,” or “The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?”

          They were all lifelines for her, and she clung to them, thinking of them day after day, night after night. Isaiah twenty-six three suddenly rooted itself in her mind right along with the rest, but for some reason it spoke to her loudly.

          Lord, help me to trust You. No matter what.

          Peace. What a wonderful word! Lord, I want peace!

          She thought of David, of his many Psalms he wrote while his soul was in turmoil within him. I feel in much the same place. But I shall trust.

          The next verse wormed its way in, Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting rock.

          An everlasting rock, Andi thought. No matter what happens, He’s always there. Always. So, I shall trust. I shall trust that He has a plan in all of this, and I shall trust that, be it His will, Riley can and will find me.

          From then on, Andi whispered, “Trust,” when her worry arose and swept over her. The more she trusted, the more peaceful she became. God has a plan in all of this. I just need to trust.

***

          Evening fell.

Andi wiped down the last dish from supper and left for her cabin, envisioning a warm cot and blanket and a moment alone with God.

She wriggled into a nightgown and flopped down onto the cot. With a soft moan, she pulled up the blanket and closed her eyes. God—

“Psst.”

Andi’s eyes flew open, and she shot up to a sitting position. What was that?

“Psst.”

Andi looked up. The glass pane on her window had been pushed back, allowing the cold air to seep in.

There was also a face covered with black linen, revealing only two gray-flecked blue eyes.

Andi’s immediate reaction was a small shriek.

“Hush!” hissed a masculine voice from behind the linens. “I’m going around to the door. Open it for me, will you?”

“Wh…who are you?”

“Never you mind. Just do as I say, and be quick about it.”

Andi gulped and scuttled across the cabin. Who is this person? Another bandit? She pulled on her skirt and blouse, shedding the nightgown onto the floor.

Then she pushed back the bolt and opened the door. The man stood there, his black attire making him look like a dark shadow against the night.

“Come, follow me, and be quick and silent,” he said, moving off.

Andi followed closely.

The man led her to a group of horses. All of them except for one was mounted by a black-clad person.

In one smooth motion, Andi’s leader hiked himself up onto the remaining horse and offered his hand. “Get up,” he ordered.

Andi took the hand and was sitting behind the man a moment later. He clucked to the horse, who immediately spurred into an easy, fast lope.

Andi looked behind her shoulder. The other men were following her. Whatever is going on?

After an hour’s ride, Andi finally dared to voice her question aloud.

The man looked back at her, his eyes expressionless, then glanced in all directions, as if looking for something. At last, he reined in his horse and motioned for the others to do the same.

“You’re Andrea Carter Prescott, correct?” he said.

“Yes, I am. How do you—”

“Be patient, Mrs. Prescott, and I’ll explain.” The man dismounted and pulled Andi down with him. Then he led his horse behind a vast thickness of shrubbery.

Finally, he returned his attention to Andi. “I am Lily’s husband.”

Andi couldn’t help it. She squealed her joy. “You’ve come for me? Oh, I knew—”

“Careful! You don’t want to be caught, do you?”

Andi clapped her hand over her mouth, knowing it’d be useless to tell this man they were no doubt way out of the bandits’ earshot.

She hadn’t felt so excited in a long, long time. Her eyes closed as she whispered a quick prayer, “Oh, God, thank you!”

“It wasn’t easy finding you,” the man went on. “We headed first to the camp where Lily said you would be. It was absolutely empty. We rode around for weeks, finally stumbling upon the correct location. I recognized Benita Rodendo immediately, and feigned my loyalty by telling her I’d robbed a bank and handing over sacks of money. She welcomed me into the camp, promising safety and a journey to Mexico. I followed you around a bit, and finally decided to make my move.”

Andi’s eyes grew wide. She hadn’t even noticed when this man and his companions had entered the camp. Does it matter? Not really. I’ve been found!

What do you think happens next? Feel free to leave your guesses in the comments below! 

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