River of Mercy by BJ Hoff Page B

trouble upon them all when he arrived in Riverhaven and that he would bring even more if he stayed around.
    Gant had to go. Unfortunately, from the looks of things, he had no intention of leaving. He was of no mind to leave Rachel. For sure, he wasn’t the type to be scared off. No, the People needed to realize that having him around was only making their problems worse, that he was unable or unwilling to help them.
    It was taking longer than he’d expected though. He hadn’t counted on the People taking up with the man. He had thought that because Gant was a stranger from the outside world, they would distrust him and keep him a good distance away. Instead, some seemed to have taken a liking to him, even to the point of making friends with him.
    Including Rachel and her family.
    For the second time he heard a wildcat cry from somewhere on the mountain. He shuddered at the sound. He hated those creatures and their sly, sneaky ways.
    There had been no movement from the other side of the road for several minutes now, no sign that Gant had seen him. He decided he’d waited long enough.
    Clutching his coat more tightly around him against the rain, he started off for home, moving quietly and slowly until he had passed far enough away from the house that Gant couldn’t spot him. As he slogged through the wet leaves, he began to recognize some of the mistakes he had made. At the same time, a solution gradually began to unravel.
    What he needed now was a whole new strategy.
    That was it—a new strategy. He liked that word. It meant he had a smart and well-thought-out plan to accomplish his goal. Maybe he had taken a few wrong turns, but that didn’t mean he ought to give up. There were other ways. Already, ideas were beginning to form.
    After all, the goal all along had been to get rid of Gant. With him gone, Rachel would be free. Her mind would no longer be clouded by confusion and wrong choices. She would be able to make the decisions that were best for her.
    And eventually that would make things a whole lot better for him.

12
N EW A RRIVALS
    Nobody else can do the work
That God marked out for you.
    P AUL L AURENCE D UNBAR
    T he next Monday Gant reluctantly admitted to himself that he wasn’t as young as he liked to think he was.
    After putting in several hours at the shop each day during the past week, except for Sunday, he’d spent almost as much time working at Rachel’s house alongside Gideon and Doc. By bedtime every night he was more tired than he should have been and newly convicted that he needed to get more exercise from now on. Or at least not to spend so much time sitting on the shop bench while he worked.
    The bright side was that he slept so deeply each night that a buffalo stampede wouldn’t have roused him. The not-so-bright side had to do with the spasms that seized his bad leg when he least expected them. Like well-placed hammer blows, the pain ricocheted from his hip down to his ankle, threatening to take him to his knees.
    Tonight he was working late again, but he’d finished up what needed doing at Rachel’s that morning, so maybe from now on his days would be a little shorter and less tiring.
    Besides cleaning up the workroom and repairing the damage, he’d replaced the glass in the broken window and repaired the frame. He also installed a new, sturdier lock and a sliding metal bar to the front and back doors and repainted them. Some of the shelves that held supplies for the birdhouses had never been properly sanded or painted, so he took time to finish them and set everything back in place after they dried.
    He was bent over the lathe, plying the treadle as he finished the last leg for Mylon Baker’s dining room table when someone knocked at the back door. Mac, dozing nearby, shot to his feet and gave a short bark.
    Gant stopped and listened. When the knock came again, he wiped his hands and started for the rear of the shop with Mac following