Free Ruth by Lori Copeland Page A

direction she might go, chances were she wouldn’t find a settlement. Hadn’t someone said that was the reason outlaws went north, to avoid people and the law? The observation made sense now.
    “We’ll stay here,” Ruth told the horse. She flicked an ear. “Maybe someone will come along. After all, Dylan was traveling this way. Surely it’s a known path to somewhere.” She wasn’t sure that was a logical thought, but she wanted to believe it.
    The mare was staked where Dylan had left her, foraging for what grass she could find. They had plenty of water—they wouldn’t die of dehydration.
    Ruth sat waiting, hoping, until her stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten since last night. The bread was dry and the cheese virtually tasteless, but she managed to force down the bland fare.
    In late fall the evening grows dark early and quickly. At dusk a deer came out to forage and stopped to stare at her from a thicket. Ruth was grateful for that small acknowledgment of life besides herself. The animal eventually wandered off and she was alone again.
    She ate the last of her bread, then drew one of the blankets about her shoulders to ward off chill. No one had come today. No one would come tomorrow. She was a fool to even hope so. If anyone had business that would bring him in this direction, he wouldn’t travel this late in the year. Not unless he had to, and even an emergency would give the average man pause. The whimsical notion that another soul might pass this way held no merit.
    She should have stayed in Denver City and put up with the humiliation of Oscar’s public proposal and his following her around like a moon-eyed calf. The truth was a bitter pill to swallow. Marrying Oscar Fleming would have been better than this. Compromise would have been better than death, and right now death seemed likely, since she had no idea of how to get back to Denver City.
    She sniffed. “Horse? Why did Dylan McCall have to be the first man I was attracted to and the man who obviously couldn’t care less what happened to me?”
    Ruth decided it was time to face the truth. This was just another incident in a long string of misfortunes. She kept hoping things would change, but they never did. Even if she could have located Milford, there was no guarantee he’d have helped her.
    She lay back, staring at the sky—one she hadn’t seen in days. “I was only four when my parents died of cholera, horse. For some reason God spared my life. Mrs. Galeen, the orphanage mother, told me God had spared me for a reason, that he had a plan for my life.”
    Ruth glanced at the mare, who appeared to be listening. She smiled and continued. “I tried my best to believe that, but sometimes, particularly right now, the kindly woman’s words are hard to accept. Still, God did spare me when the circumstances seemed hopeless. Mrs. Galeen told me that two Sioux braves found me crying in the wagon, my parents and two brothers dead of cholera. Instead of killing me, they took me to the orphanage. Mrs. Galeen saw them early one morning when she had risen to take care of Mary. One of the braves got off his horse, carefully cradling a wide-eyed, dirty-faced toddler, and set me, big as you please, on the orphanage steps. Then he pounded on the door and waited for Mrs. Galeen to recover from her initial fright and summon enough nerve to see what they wanted.
    “Anyway, with limited vocabulary and using sign language, the young man informed Mrs. Galeen of the deaths of my whole family. Then he quickly mounted his horse and the two braves disappeared before Mrs. Galeen could ask any questions.
    “Mrs. Galeen named me Ruth—” Ruth peered at the mare. “Did you know that?” She lay back. Of course the horse couldn’t have known that. Mrs. Galeen had named her after her favorite Bible character. Ruth had been adopted by Edgar and Beatrice Norris, a schoolteacher and his wife. She lived with them for several years, and they taught her to read, write, and