Page 87 of Devotion

He hates the idea. I can see it in the dramatic twisting of his features. But his mind has always been the sharpest one I’ve ever known, and he’s going to realize I’m right.

It takes a couple of minutes, but he does.

We have to wait three hours before the mercantile is open, and Gabriel fills the time with stern instructions about exactly what I’m supposed to do and how I’m to react to every possible situation he can imagine.

I know his mood is prompted by fear on my behalf, but it gets old eventually. I finally have to snap at him that I’m a competent adult who can handle this.

Gabriel gets the point. He stops obsessing over instructions, but he’s shuddering with nerves by the time I’m ready to get out of the motor and walk to the mercantile.

“If anyone asks, your father died,” he mutters, taking my face in one firm hand. “You’re looking for help. You’ve been living on a small farm to the east.”

I don’t bite out that we’ve been over all this a dozen times before. He’s scared for me. I know the feeling. “I’ve got it. I can do this, Gabriel.”

“I know you can.” He gives me a brief, hard kiss. “You’re so brave.”

I don’t feel brave as I climb out of the vehicle and start walking back toward the settlement. There’s still not a single person in sight, but I feel utterly exposed, vulnerable.

I’m not used to being outside of walls. One small person in the vast stretch of the landscape and the sky.

I make it through the assortment of ramshackle cottages. I see a few people doing chores outside, but I ignore them and they ignore me.

There are a few folks in the center of the community, going about their morning business. I make it to the mercantile and walk inside.

There’s a pleasant-looking older woman behind a counter. I head straight for her.

“Are you all right, dear?” she asks, straightening up and looking concerned. “Are you in trouble?”

“I need some help. I’m here to leave a message.”

Her face changes just slightly. “I see.” She pulls out a pad of paper from under the counter and hands it to me with a pen. “Just write it down. I’ll see it gets to someone who can help you.”

“Thank you.”

I write out the message as Gabriel and I rehearsed it. We prepared a lie for anyone who might try to stop me, but there’s no sense in lying to the rebels. They need to know the whole story if they’re going to avoid the guards who will be searching for us and take us across the border.

When I’ve finished writing, I fold the page and the woman slips it into an envelope and then seals it.

“I’ll get this to someone who can help you. But it will be noon at the earliest before I get a response for you. You got somewhere you can go to wait?”

“Yes. Thank you. I’ll come back at noon.”

The woman nods at me, and I give her a quick smile before I leave the mercantile and return to Gabriel.

He’s clearly been more stressed than me as he waited in the vehicle alone. He grabs me in a tight hug.

Then the only thing we can do is more waiting.

21

When I walk backto the mercantile just after noon, the same pleasant lady is behind the counter.

Unlike that morning, there are a few other people present now, and she greets me by saying, “Perfect timing. Your package just arrived.”

Smiling, I manage to reply without sounding too confused. “Oh good. Thank you.” Then I accept a parcel wrapped in brown paper.

She tilts her head toward the door with a significant look that I interpret as meaning I should leave before I open it. After thanking her again, I leave the mercantile and hurry through the settlement and to Gabriel, who’s been pacing restlessly near the motor.

Inside the package is some paper stuffing to make it look like there’s something bulky wrapped in it. And beneath the stuffing is a folded note on a torn sheet of paper with directions to a meeting place and an appointment time. An old hunting cabin about twenty miles away. Midnight tonight.

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