"You heard that?" Callie asked, looking crestfallen.

"I was still thinking about that man at the door. I couldn't fall asleep."

"Tell me something," Danny cut in. "Do you know these men who are approaching you?"

"Most of them, yes."

29 "And do they take no for an answer, or are some returning?" "Some return," Sabrina said with a small shrug. "I don't understand why."

At a time when thoughts and hearts had been rather sober, both Danny and Callie found themselves smiling. Sabrina Matthews did not spend time thinking about the way she looked, but she was beautiful. Her skin was creamy, a bit dark in tone, but her cheeks still managed a lovely rose color. Her hair was thick with a bit of wave, very black, and her black-lashed eyes were like blue crystals. It was a surprising but lovely combination.

It took a moment for Sabrina to see her friends' smiles, and when she did, she was completely confused.

"What?"

"You're just funny" Callie said.

Sabrina frowned, trying to remember what she'd said, but she was completely at sea. Danny took pity on her and cleared it up with one name.

"Nelson Taylor."

"Oh," Sabrina said, full understanding hitting her. Nelson Taylor was a man at church who was interested in her. She had told him that she had no desire to marry and that she was the wrong woman for him, but he had said that he would never want anyone else. Each week he spoke to her, his heart in his eyes, and Sabrina knew nothing could dissuade him.

"So what do you think?" Danny forced himself to bring them all back to the painful topic at hand. "Do you want to try Montana Territory?"

"What will I do if it doesn't work out?"

"Come back."

"Yes, Bri," Callie put in, "we'll make sure you have return fare. Short of starvation, you keep that money tucked away and come back to us if you're unhappy at all."

Sabrina looked into their faces, wondering how she could be away from them for one day and still be happy.

30 "G.o.d is in Montana Territory too," Danny said quietly, more for himself than for Sabrina.

Sabrina looked into his eyes, knowing she quite literally owed him her life, and cried for the first time in years.

31.

"MyHEART GRIEVES FOR my friend, Abi Pfister." Pastor Rylan Jarvik spoke to the group 'gathered at the cemetery. Next to him lay a plain wooden box ready for interment. "I will miss Abi's lively mind and her tender heart. She hadn't always had a tender heart, as most of you know, but just last week she told me she prayed for all of you. She believed that G.o.d had great plans for the townsfolk of Token Creek and our small church family."

Rylan looked out over the faces before him. Most were from his church, but not all. He'd already said what he wanted to say concerning Abi's beliefs, but he thought a last reminder might be a good idea.

"Please don't forget that Abi is not in this box. Just last year she made Christ her Savior and G.o.d, and all that's in this box is her frame."

Rylan closed in prayer, and then folks stood and visited for a while. All enjoyed knowing Abi at the end of her life, and to a person they had a fun story to share since she joined the church family. The last one to leave the graveside was Jeanette Fulbright, who had been 32meeting with Abi for months. The two women had become close and grown in their knowledge of G.o.d as they studied in the book of James. Jeanette stared into the grave knowing she was going to miss her rather unpredictable friend in a very real way.

One of Jeanette's nephews came to see her back to the wagons, but before she turned away, Jeanette determined in her heart to pray as Abi had, believing that Christ had died for the folks in town and that G.o.d had something special in mind for Token Creek.

The June sun was warm on the streets of Token Creek on Wednesday morning as Jeanette opened the door of her shop, Token Creek Apparel. She left the door standing open, enjoying the breeze as she slipped into the back to remove her hat and go to work.

Business had been a little quiet, but that suited Jeanette. When she had taken on the shop full-time, she had not counted on how much work it would be for one person. Her nephew's wife, Ca.s.sidy Holden, was always ready to give her a hand, but Ca.s.sidy was a new bride, and she and Trace lived a ways out of town where they ranched with Trace's brother, Brad, and his wife, Meg. Jeanette had no new orders this week, so that would allow her to catch up on the week before.

Jeanette started when she came from the back and realized she wasn't alone. A tall young woman had come in very quietly, standing just inside the door and looking hesitant.

"h.e.l.lo," Jeanette said kindly.

"h.e.l.lo," the woman greeted her. "I'm here about the sign in the window about a job."

"Please come in," Jeanette invited as she indicated a chair. No one had asked about the "Seamstress Needed" sign in the window, and Jeanette tried to tamp down her excitement. She spoke when the younger woman was seated. "I'm Jeanette Fulbright."

"I'm Bri," she began but stopped. "I mean, Sabrina Matthews."

33.

"Do you like Bri or Sabrina?"

"I usually go by Bri."

"In that case it's nice to meet you, Bri. Tell me about your sewing experience."

"I've never used a sewing machine," Sabrina said, her gaze flickering over to the one against the wall, "but I'm handy with a needle."

"Who taught you?"

"My mother."

"Do you mind showing me some of your work?"

"Yes, ma'am-I mean, no ma'am." Sabrina stopped, took a breath, and tried to calm her racing heart. "I don't mind."

Jeanette smiled with compa.s.sion into her young eyes, knowing how nervous she must be. Jeanette wanted to hire her-she wanted it in the worst way-but even though she was drawn to her sweet vulnerability, she had her business to consider.

"How about a hem? Can you hem a pant leg for me?"

Sabrina nodded, and took the things Jeanette handed to her-a needle, thread, and the men's dress slacks, which had already been pinned.

"Let me know when you're done," Jeanette said, moving to the sewing machine and hiding her smile when she heard Sabrina sigh.

Sabrina wasted no time. She was good with hems, and it helped to be left alone to work. Her hands shook a little while threading the needle, but as soon as she'd accomplished that, she made short work of the hem. She checked it over carefully and knew she'd done her best.

"Miss Fulbright?"

"It's Mrs.," Jeanette told her, "but please call me Jeanette. How did you do?"

By way of an answer, Sabrina handed her the pants. Jeanette studied the job and was pleased. Her style was different than Jeanette's but just as neat and strong.

34 "Very nice," Jeanette said honestly, but still made herself go slowly. "Tell me something, Bri. What brings you to Token Creek?"

"I'm originally from Denver," Sabrina answered. She'd had miles and hours to think of a way to answer this question. "That city holds some bad memories for me, and when I wanted to try someplace different, friends of mine from my church family suggested Montana Territory."

"Well, I think you and I would do well together," Jeanette said, having liked her answer and sensing her honesty. "But how about we give it a month's trial? If after four weeks either one of us wants things to change, we need only say."

"All right," Sabrina said, having to work not to sound as breathless as she felt. "When do you want me?"

"How about in the morning?"

Sabrina nodded, and Jeanette went on to explain when she opened and that she would need Sabrina from Wednesday through Sat.u.r.day. Sabrina had a few more questions about what she should wear and how she would be paid, but Jeanette wasn't done with her own questions.

"When did you get into town?" the older woman asked. "Late yesterday afternoon."

"Do you have a place to live?"

"Not yet."

"Why don't you plan to stay at my house? You might not find a place today, and you'll be working for the rest of the week, so staying with me will give you a chance to look around town."

Jeanette could see she'd confounded her. Sabrina looked into the older woman's eyes, inches below her own, and felt as helpless as a child. Even after life with the Barshaws and the Denver church family, such kindness from a stranger was more than Sabrina expected.

"Thank you," Sabrina managed. "I can work for you at your house if you need me to."

"As a matter of fact, I have a very fine staff that sees to everything,

35.

so you need not worry on that account. Just take your time finding a safe place to live and getting settled in."

Sabrina was given instructions on how to find the house before she thanked Jeanette again and went on her way. Barely able to breathe, she went back to the train station and stood hesitantly in the empty building. Somehow she thought it was never a place to be empty. She was on the verge of leaving when the stationmaster appeared.

"Back for your bag, Miss?" Kaleb Heydorn asked kindly.

"Yes, thank you."

Kaleb smiled at the tall woman in his midst before slipping behind the counter to fetch her heavy satchel. He wanted to ask questions but stopped himself. He was not curious by nature, but this pa.s.senger fascinatedhim. He knew where she'd spent the night but would never have let her know.

"Here you go," Kaleb said as he handed her the bag.

"What do I owe you?" she asked, reaching for the reticule that hung from her wrist.

"This one's on the house," he said.

"Thank you."

Kaleb nodded and watched her slip out the back door. He didn't follow but was fairly certain where she was headed.

Sabrina stepped out of the back of the train station, and walked across the gravel to a small copse of trees. She headed to the partially gra.s.sy area where she'd slept the night before and sank onto her knees.

I have a job, she prayed, her entire frame awash with relief. Thank You. You provided. You went before me, and Jeanette Fulbright hired me. For long moments Sabrina could not form words-her thanks to G.o.d simply filled her heart.

She had left Denver, declining a letter of introduction from the Barshaws. They had wanted to write a letter to the church family, one 36that she could deliver herself, but Sabrina had decided to do this on her own. Landing a job on her first day had simply not occurred to her. And she would sleep in a house tonight, not on the ground or in a train. Sabrina began to dig in her satchel for paper and a pencil. It was time to write a letter home.

"What are you doing?" Jessie Wheeler asked of Hannah, her older daughter, when she found her digging behind one of the counters of Wheeler's Mercantile.

"Looking for a rag."

"Why do you need it?"

"I'm going to dust that shelf over there."

Jessie, who owned and operated the mercantile, looked over at the shelf her daughter pointed to. It did need dusting, but the bottom ones always did. She had two customers in the store but ignored them in order to bend down on her daughter's level.

"I think you should go and play," Jessie said gently to the child, who tended to take life very seriously. "You just finished with school. Don't you want to enjoy your summer a little?"

"But who will dust the shelf?"

"I don't know right now, but I do know this: The dust will wait for us."

Hannah smiled a little. It was her mother's standard answer, and even though she had heard it many times before, it usually did the trick.

"All right," Hannah agreed, albeit reluctantly. Jessie watched her leave and then noticed Sabrina at the counter.

"May I help you?" Jessie offered.

"I need to mail this letter," Sabrina said. "Can I do that here?" "You certainly can." Jessie took the letter and glanced at it. "The post to Denver won't go out until tomorrow."

Sabrina nodded, knowing that Danny and Callie would never 37 expect to hear this fast. She almost smiled when she thought about their faces.

Jessie took care of the letter, including payment, and then asked Sabrina if she was new in town. It was obvious that she was, but Jessie still thought it the best start to a conversation.

"Yes, I am-just yesterday. Do you by any chance need someone to work for you?" Sabrina mustered up the courage to ask. "Not full-time. I'm sorry."