Free Hannah Alexander by Keeping Faith Page B

a wagon wheel broke or an injured animal needed tending. Deacon and Ellen Fritz sometimes rode with McDonald and allowed their two half-grown boys—black-haired, the opposite images to the Johnstons in every way—to manage the oxen pulling their wagon.
    Victoria had marveled many times at her good fortune to end up in such a good company of folk, but she knew Joseph had handpicked these people. How she admired his astute perception of human character. She allowed her gaze to return to Joseph’s tall figure and wasn’t surprised to find him watching her with an expression of...what? Concern? Regret? Though perspiration beaded his brow, he was barely breathing hard when he stepped from the graves and crossed the recently worn pathway toward her.
    Her irritation at God slid back into its hiding place. This was where mercy existed, in the tender heart of a leader who buried his own, and who still honored God with his words. Yet another discrepancy stood between them. She could never be as faithful to the Lord as this man. How would she ever reconcile evidence of God’s power and goodness with such pain and heartbreak? She lacked the faith of Captain Joseph Rickard.
    “I have no doubt they’re in heaven, you know,” came Joseph’s deep and mellow voice as his shadow loomed over her. “I knew them. So did you.”
    She looked up at him and blinked when a beam of sunlight found its way past his shoulder. “My concern is for Heidi. She’s lost everything important in her life.”
    “Not everything. She hasn’t lost you.”
    “She needs a more solid family from which to choose.”
    “You’re saying she can’t carry on with your help in her family wagon?”
    Victoria flashed him a look of displeasure.
    “Forgive me,” he said. “It isn’t my intent to make you feel guilty.”
    “No? It sounds as if that’s exactly your intent.”
    “I merely felt that, since you had been traveling with the family and sharing space in their wagon, you would continue to do so. You’ve done nothing for which to feel guilty. We have five healthy people who would likely have been sharing those graves if not for your talents and knowledge.” There was admiration in his voice that spread warmth through her. Even Matthew had never shown such approval. But then, Matthew had been the teacher, she the student. He’d had twenty years on her in knowledge and experience. And age.
    And that thought reminded her to place some distance between Joseph and herself, because no matter how Audy might want to word it, Victoria knew her own hidden desires. Part of her wanted to renew a lost love, but a larger part wanted protection from further loss. Hadn’t she endured enough? How could she even contemplate more?
    “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, “I think it best I check on the drying roots and supplies.”
    “Would you like some help? I’ve learned much from you since the outbreak. It wouldn’t hurt me to know a little more about all those plants you’ve had Heidi and Mrs. Reich collecting.”
    Victoria hesitated. She would love to have him by her side as she sorted through the herbs her friends had brought her, but propriety gave her pause. “Joseph,” she said quietly, “not only are you the physical leader of this group, but you’re the spiritual leader, as well. No one comforts people better after a loss, and there are people upset by this tragedy.”
    She thought she heard him give a quiet sigh as she turned away from him. Frustration? Despite all, his desire to be near her gave her pleasure. Close on the heels of that pleasure came dismay. “Oh, Matthew,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
    What kind of a wife developed a wayward heart only seven months after the loss of her husband? Though she and Matthew had endured their differences, she would never be sorry for any of it; in spite of Joseph’s words to the contrary, Matthew had left her well prepared for the future. She might not have been able to make a livable