A Shelter of Hope by Tracie Peterson Page A

whereabouts, Simone finally cleared the clouded images from her mind and replied, “Sorry. I must have dozed off.” She sighed, a foreign feeling of safety and contentment washing over her.
    Elias laughed. “You’ve been asleep for over two hours. Gladys and I just went ahead and ate without you, but I figured since you were concerned about moving on to Laramie that perhaps I should wake you. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to just spend the night? We have an extra room. Used to belong to our daughter, but she married and moved away. You’re certainly welcome to sleep in her bed and take your leave in the morning.”
    The idea sounded wonderful, but Simone knew that delay might risk the possibility of being caught. “No. I’m sorry for falling asleep on you.” She got up, casting off the quilts. “It was kind of you to take me in.”
    “Well, come on, then, and have some dinner. We’ve kept it warm for you,” Elias replied. He led the way to the back section of the house, where Gladys was just now pulling golden brown loaves of bread from the oven.
    “Oh, I told him to let you sleep, but he said you were in some allfired hurry to get to Laramie. It doesn’t hardly seem fitting that a young woman like you should travel alone. There’s all manner of wild beast out there just waiting to do you in.”
    “Yes,” Elias agreed, “and not all of them are the four-legged type.” Simone nodded. She knew full well what the Cantons were insinuating. “I’ll be careful. I have a gun.”
    “So does everybody else in the territory,” Elias countered in a somewhat amused tone. “Look, why don’t I ride with you a ways. I could make sure you stayed on the right road and—”
    “No!” Simone declared, a little more emphatically than she’d intended. Elias pulled out a chair for her, and without looking him in the eye, she sat down. “Thank you,” she murmured.
    Gladys scurried forward with a platter of fried ham and biscuits. “These ought to fill you up a sight better than jerky.” She went back to the stove and took the lid off a large kettle. Taking up a bowl, Gladys ladled a liberal portion of steaming soup. “This will finish warming your insides, if there’s any chill left in you.” She laughed and brought the soup to the table. “At least the color has returned to your cheeks.”
    Simone put a hand to her face absentmindedly. Both Elias and Gladys were looking at her as if they expected her to do or say something, but Simone wasn’t sure what it was they expected. Nervously she thanked them for their generosity, then dug into the food.
    It tasted like nothing she’d ever had before. The ham steak cut easily with her fork, the succulent juices running out across her plate. Simone tried not to show too much delight in the meal, but in truth, she felt as though she had stumbled upon a kingly feast. She tried the soup next and found it seasoned in a way that she couldn’t recognize. Had she felt more comfortable, she might have asked Gladys for the recipe.
    “So you have kin in Laramie?” Elias asked again.
    Simone only nodded and continued eating. She didn’t want to have to answer Elias Canton’s questions. She didn’t want to lie to this kindly man with his generous, chatty wife. These folks had been mighty good to her, and while that had never been a privilege Simone could remember, she didn’t want to just out-and-out lie to them. Thinking like this startled Simone. She understood how to handle harsh, angry people. People with grudges or vendettas. Men who approached her with suggestive thoughts that Simone would just as soon never be a part of. But to have someone care about her needs, see to it that she was warm and fed … well, that was another story. It chiseled away at her defenses, and while Simone had always considered herself capable of facing most anything, she felt helpless in dealing with these people. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to return their openness.
    Still, she reminded