Free Thrown to the Wolves (The Faith in Peril Trilogy) by Holly Newcastle Page A

helped us to find it. Please lead us to safety tomorrow. We strive to do your will in all things, Amen.”
    “Amen,” I said.
    “I’ll say the Lord’s Prayer,” offered Jacob.
    I glanced at him. “Thank you.”
    When the prayers had concluded and the water was gone, we settled in to sleep, although the ground felt hard and uncomfortable. I folded the apron beneath my head, facing Anna, who lay on her side. “Our shoulders will ache in the morning,” I whispered.
    “And our backs.”
    Molly had joined Jacob, sitting with him on his pile of leaves. “It’s just one night. We can manage for a few more hours.” I yawned, feeling tired and weary, but doubting I would be able to sleep. The fire had heated the space thoroughly; the flames remained strong, flickering vibrantly. “It’s going to be fine,” I said mostly to myself.
    “I hope so.” Anna closed her eyes, murmuring, “God will watch over us. No harm shall come to those who believe in Him. There is some security in that notion.”
    I reached out to touch her hand. “Yes. It’s a comfort to know He is here with us.”
    “He is.”
    “Good night, Anna.”
    “Good night, Rebekah.”
    “Good night, Jacob,” I said.
    “Night, girls. You sleep tight.”
    Dat frequently said those words. “Yes, we will.”
    I closed my eyes, but sleep remained illusive. I lay listening to the fire, with its crackling and snapping, the branches and pinecones burning. The constant drone of crickets resonated, but it was the noises further off that worried me. While Anna slept, her soft snores drifting around me, I listened to the creatures in the distance, shrieking and growling. A chorus of howls followed this. I sat up at one point, worried the dog would wake, but Molly slept by Jacob’s side. He had his arm around her midsection. The fire had died down marginally, and, when it came close to extinguishing completely, I added a few more branches. Then I sat with my arms over my knees, staring tiredly into the blackness, as worry and fear would not let me sleep.
    In the morning, I did succumb to exhaustion, falling to the thin bed of leaves, but the reprieve did not last long, as Molly woke me with her wet tongue.
    “Aw … stop that,” I grumbled.
    I looked at where Anna slept, finding her missing. She had left the bed of leaves. The fire smoked, having died down to almost nothing, the aroma of burnt wood clinging to my clothing. Shaking out the apron, I tied it to my waist, while getting to my feet. It became greatly important to find my brother and sister, who had gone missing. Being close to dawn, the surrounding gloom slowly came into focus, as diffused light filtered down through the branches.
    A shape weaving amongst the bushes garnered my attention, the tan fur of an animal presenting itself. Molly appeared then. “Where is everyone?” The dog approached, sniffing my hand. I petted her. “Are they at the creek?” I assumed Anna and Jacob had gone in this direction. My belly grumbled, but I ignored it. “Let’s go find them, shall we?” I said my prayers as I walked. “Oh, Lord, our Father. Thank you for seeing us through the night. Thank you for keeping us safe and warm. Please help us find our parents today. Bless Dat and Mam and Ruth and David. Bless Abe, that sweet little baby.” A sense of yearning registered, accompanied by a feeling of homesickness. “How I miss everyone. I miss Mam. Amen.” I hurried towards the creek, hearing voices. “There you are.” I found Anna and Jacob by the water’s edge, washing their hands and faces. “Good morning.”
    It became lighter with the dawn. The stream looked rather small, the water hardly bigger than a trickle in places. There were greenish, slimy-looking rocks scattered amongst gray, slickened ones, but the creek was clear, the bottom sandy.
    “Good morning, Rebekah,” said Jacob. “I slept like a baby.” He stretched his arms over his head. “I’m hungry. I wish we had food.”
    “I slept