ONE

oooooooo

The wind wafted in the open church window, blowing a stray lock of blonde hair into Caroline Ingalls' face. She caught it and tucked it behind her ear, and then scooted her chair back and headed for the source of the cold air. It was well past time to close it. Since she was working alone, she'd left it open to enjoy the chatter on the main street of Walnut Grove; listening to the comings and goings of the men, women, and children outside. Still, it was late November and it wouldn't do to take a chill.

There was far too much to do with the holidays coming up!

On the way to the window Caroline stopped to check her daughter, Laura, who had volunteered to help make the decorations for the upcoming Thanksgiving service and then promptly fallen asleep on one of the church pews. Catching hold of the warm woolen shawl she'd placed over her child, the slender blonde woman bent and pulled it up over the little girl's shoulders. As she straightened up, Caroline let out a little sigh. It had been a long Saturday in town. Charles was working late at Hanson's Mill on a rush order and she had thought it the perfect time to come to the sanctuary and finish up a few things before the Sunday service. Laura had chosen to stay with her and Mary had gone to Miss Beadle's to help Eva grade papers. Grace Edwards had seen them come into town and kindly volunteered to watch Carrie at her place so they could get their work done uninterrupted. The Reverend Alden had been working in the church as well, but had just left. Their minister insisted on going to the parsonage to fix sandwiches and tea, declaring – when she maintained she could wait until she got home to eat – that Moses didn't part the Red Sea on an empty stomach.

Caroline chuckled. Robert Alden was such a dear man. They were so blessed to have him as the shepherd of their small flock.

As she arrived at the window, the blonde woman paused and looked out. The light was fast fading. Here and there oil lamps were springing to life in the houses located along Walnut Grove's main avenue. Charles was planning on working until eight and that meant she had a little over two hours to accomplish her self-imposed task. The week before the children had gathered autumn leaves and dipped them in paraffin, preserving their fragile beauty for a time. She was arranging them into wreaths to hang on the church windows and doors. Caroline's gaze went to the now-barren trees. Autumn was such a wonder; displaying God's majesty in a brilliant burst of color that heralded not only the end of the yearly cycle of life, but the resurrection and renewal of it. She loved the season, though she had to admit at times it made her melancholy. As the days grew shorter and the wind colder, as dry leaves and bare branches – brown and brittle – blew across the yard and rattled the windows, one could not help but reflect on how brief a man's days were to walk the earth.

Or a woman's.

A little shiver brought Caroline back to the present and the open window. She placed her hands on the sill and shoved down hard, closing it and shutting out the wind. Then she laughed. Such morbid thoughts! Usually it was Charles who was prone to be contemplative. She chided her handsome husband often enough about thinking too long and too deeply about things. And here she was, preparing for the day when they would give thanks to the Lord for the bounty of their harvest and the blessings of their lives, and she'd allowed gloomy thoughts to carry her away! Wrapping her arms around her slender frame, Caroline turned back to face the altar. As her gaze went to the wooden cross that stood there, she considered their source. Perhaps it was the events of this last year – the tornado, Charles being forced to work in another town, the loss of their crops. Their struggle to get by...

Freddie.

"Caroline Ingalls," she said out loud. "You should be ashamed! Idle hands are the Devil's tool! It's time you got back to work."

A soft murmur made her look toward her daughter. Laura was stirring.

"Ma?" she asked, her little eyes blinking with sleep. "Is it time to go home?"

Crossing over to her child, Caroline brushed the hair out of her eyes and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Not quite. Pa's still at the mill. You just go back to sleep."

"Shouldn't I ought to be helping you?" Laura asked, her words slurring as slumber called.

"I'm not doing much right now other than waiting on the reverend to return. He went to fix some sandwiches," she replied as the little girl snuggled in. "How about I wake you when he gets back?"

"Mm-hm," her daughter murmured and was fast asleep.

Caroline smiled and shook her head. Just like her father. Laura could have fallen asleep on a brick!

Turning from her child, the blonde woman headed for her work table. She hadn't taken five steps when she stopped. She'd heard something – a muffled sound, like a cough hidden behind a hand or a word spoken through a handkerchief. It was followed by a scraping noise. A drawer opening perhaps, or a chair being moved? The noise had come from the room behind the altar where they kept supplies and off-season goods. There was a rear entrance there, but it was seldom used. For the life of her she couldn't imagine why Robert would have chosen to return that way instead of coming in through the front door.

"Reverend Alden? Is that you?" Caroline called out.

The noise stopped. She heard a word, spoken low, and then the door to the store room opened and a total stranger stepped into the sanctuary.

It was a young man, probably in his late teens or early twenties. He was obviously down on his luck. Though his coat, shirt, and pants looked store-bought they were well-worn and, in places, threadbare. His coat was muddy as well and littered with debris as if he had slept outside the night before. He was nice-looking, but unkempt. His hollow cheeks were stubbled with the beginning of a beard and his wavy brown hair – which hung nearly to his shoulders – needed a wash.

The eyes he turned on her were wild as any captive animal's.

Taking a step back, Caroline placed herself between him and her sleeping child before asking, "Can I help you?"

She winced. She hadn't meant to sound afraid.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then, "This is a church, isn't it?"

The blonde woman resisted looking at the altar and other obvious trappings. "Yes," she answered, thinking it through. "Are you looking for the Reverend Alden? He'll be back soon – "

The man's eyes darted to the front of the church and then back to her. "When?"

"Any minute," she replied, her tone more sure than she was. "I'm certain he can help you with whatever it is you need – "

"You don't know anything about what I need!" the young man snarled as he moved past her and headed for the vestibule. "Don't pretend you know anything about me!"

Caroline stammered. "I'm...I'm sorry. I assumed – "

"Don't," he said as he disappeared around the corner. She followed and was just in time to watch him open one of the church doors a few inches. Caroline noticed how he stayed to one side of it, as if afraid to be seen.

It was out of her mouth before she could stop it. "Is someone following you? Are you in trouble?"

The young man's head went down and stayed down for a moment. When he looked up, his brown eyes shone in the dusky light that filled the church. There might have been tears in them. He stared at her for a few seconds and then turned and took hold of the wooden pole leaning up against the wall – the one they used to light candles. Closing the door, he threaded the pole through the handles, barring entry. When he'd done that, her captor indicated with a nod that they should return to the sanctuary.

As she walked up the aisle, he called out to her, "What's your name?"

Caroline gripped the closest pew. As they'd entered the sanctuary, she'd heard Laura murmur. She prayed her child was simply shifting and not waking up.

So far the man hadn't noticed her.

"Caroline," she answered with a forced smile as she turned to look at him where he'd stopped near the rear wall. "What's yours?"

The young man hesitated a moment before replying. "You can call me Lucas. My ma always called me Lucas." He took a step toward her. "You remind me of her."

"Oh?" She backed up a matching step. "Does she know where you are? I bet she's missing you."

Lucas shook his head. "No. She can't. She's... Ma's dead." He drew in a great gasp of air, like he was a drowning man just breaking the surface. "There was a fire. I –"

A noise made him whirl toward the door; his ill-fed body taut as a bowstring. Lucas reached into his coat as he returned to it and then pressed his ear against the wood and listened. After a moment, he seemed to relax as whoever it was moved away.

Caroline's gaze was locked on his hand, which was still inside his coat.

"Lucas, why are you here?" she asked, keeping her voice as calm as she could. "What is it you want?"

As he turned toward her, he pulled his hand out.

"Sanctuary," he said.

Lucas was holding a gun.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Charles, what are you still doing in town?"

The question caused him to turn. In doing so Charles came face to face with Nels Oleson. The long-faced man had the same hangdog look he usually wore – probably due to the fact that his battleaxe of a wife was hastening across the street to join them. Harriet was wearing her Sunday best, which was a sure sign she meant to lord her wealth and position over some poor soul. Charles lifted his hat out of politeness as she came to Nels' side and then dropped it back on his head .

"Nels. Harriet. Where are you two off to?"

"I asked first," the shopkeeper answered with a smile

The curly-haired man inclined his head toward the mill. "Working late on the Griffins contract. You know those big city fellows. Have to have what they want when they want it, no matter what."

"I see nothing wrong with a man expecting to get what he paid for on time!" Harriet sniffed.

"I don't either," Charles replied patiently, "unless that man expects the impossible. Griffins is a business man, not a lumber man. He doesn't seem to understand that a tree can only be felled and processed in a certain amount of time."

"Then Lars should hire more men," she stated flatly.

"Harriet," Nels interjected, "You have to remember that there's such a thing as a pay to profit ratio."

"Well, of course, I know that!" she snapped. "What do you think I am? An idiot?"

The shopkeeper's ' eyes met his and rolled.

It was hard not to snicker.

"Of course I don't think you're an idiot, dear. It just seemed that, perhaps, you were suggesting it was all right to operate at a loss. In that case, perhaps we should start extending credit to more customers..."

Harriet glared at Nels and then threw her hands up in the air.

"If you're going to talk nonsense, I want no part of it. I'll be in the buggy!" the haughty woman declared as her glare moved from her husband to him. "Maybe I can get some intelligent conversation out of the horses!"

As Harriet stormed away, Nels let out a sigh. "One jackass to another..."

Charles couldn't help it. Laughter bubbled up in him and burst out in a giggle.

Nels' lips curled up on one end.

"Good evening, gentleman. And what joy has the good Lord visited upon you to bring about such merriment?"

They both turned at the sound of the Reverend Alden's voice. The older man had halted a few feet away from them. He was carrying a tray laden with sandwiches that also held a steaming pot of tea and two cups.

"Good evening, Reverend," the shopkeeper said. "We were just discussing my wife."

Robert Alden's pale eyebrows popped. For obvious reasons, that subject wasone which was not usually accompanied by laughter.

"Indeed. Good thoughts, I hope?"

Nels nodded. "Of course, my wife –"

Harriet's shrill voice cut him short. "Nels Oleson! For Heaven's sake, you're worse than a woman! You stop talking and get over here! We're going to be late to supper and we wouldn't want to keep the Cassidys waiting!"

The shopkeeper's shoulders drooped. "Oh, wouldn't we?" he muttered.

"The Cassidys out of Mankato?" Charles' gaze went to the setting sun and then returned to his friend. "You got some camping out clothes hidden under that fancy suit of yours?"

"We're meeting them this side of Sleepy Eye and staying overnight. Harriet has it in her head that we need to carry this new line of hats out of London that the Cassidy's are pushing." The tall thin man stifled another sigh. "Of course, the only reason she wants us to carry them is so she can buy them all and show off –"

"Nels!"

"Hell hath no fury..." the reverend said.

"Is that in the Bible?" Nels asked.

Robert Alden laughed. "No. But it should be."

"You got Willy and Nellie stuffed in a suitcase?" Charles asked, noticing that the Olesons' children were missing.

"We'll be picking them up along the way." Nels shook his head. "There's also a new line of toys...God help me."

"I'm sure He will," Robert interjected.

The shopkeeper gave them both a tepid little smile and then walked off to the tune of his wife yelling his name again. They both watched for a moment before the reverend spoke.

"That man has the patience of a saint," he said.

Charles' snorted. "He'd have to!"

Robert tried his best to appear unamused. He wasn't very good at it. "And what are you doing here, Charles? Caroline said you were working late at the mill."

He lifted his hand to show the minister the tool he held. "Had to make a trip to the blacksmith shop. I'm headed back to Hanson's now to finish up." Charles nodded at the tray. "Those for Caroline and Laura?"

The reverend chuckled. "Yes. Even though Laura gave out shortly before I went to the parsonage, I'm sure she'll help eat them." He paused. "Caroline has to be hungry. She's been working hard all day. That's one dedicated woman you have there, Charles."

"Dedicated and determined," he agreed. "Once Caroline's made her mind up, it would take the angels descending on Jacob's ladder from Heaven itself to change it."

"Hmm," Robert said. "It seems to me that Caroline has said the very same thing about you!"

Charles pretended to consider it. "Seems about right." He grinned. "I am an angel after all!"

This time the reverend laughed out loud. Once he had collected himself, he held out the tray. "Please, take a sandwich. Even angels get hungry." When he shook his head, the older man insisted. "Really, Charles. There's more than enough. Take two. One for you and one for Lars."

He eyed the sandwiches, thick with meat and cheese. As he did his stomach growled.

Robert laughed. "I take it that's a 'yes'?"

Charles shook his head and grinned. "I've been outvoted!" As he took two of the sandwiches in hand, he said, "Thank you."

"You are most welcome and now," Robert turned toward the church, "the Good Lord giveth and the Good Lord taketh away!"

His grin broadened into a smile. "Tell Caroline I should be about another hour and a half, and then I'll come get her and Laura."

"I'll do that. You take care, Charles."

"It's a quiet dusky evening in Walnut Grove," he shrugged. "What could possibly go wrong?"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Everything was wrong.

She was alone in the church with a man with a gun. Her innocent child was asleep on the pew behind her. The Reverend Alden was due back any minute and – Heaven forfend! – Charles could be on his way to pick them up. Caroline watched Lucas pace the area at the back of the sanctuary like a caged animal. He was a taut wire waiting to snap. As he moved, the young man tapped the barrel of the gun against his head and muttered under his breath. She was too far away to catch what he said, but it was obvious he was distraught. Each time she shifted Lucas started as if surprised and the gun moved in her direction. She didn't think he would shoot her – not really – but she was afraid that the weapon might accidentally discharge or worse, be turned on the first person to come through the door.

Drawing a breath against her fear, Caroline called out to him. "Lucas?"

The young man turned to look at her. "What?"

"You said you wanted 'sanctuary'." She hesitated. "Why? Have you done something wrong?"

"No!" Lucas scowled. His jaw grew tight. "No," he said more softly, and then added, "At least, I didn't mean to..."

So he had done something. The blonde woman thought through what little she knew about him. "You mentioned your mother. Does it have to do with her?"

"Don't you mention her! Don't you ever...!" Tears flooded his eyes. "Please, don't..." Lucas paused. He looked startled.

Good Lord! Laura was waking up.

"Ma?"

"Laura, stay still!"

"Laura?" Lucas looked wild. "What? Who else is here?"

"It's my daughter. She's just a child." Caroline positioned herself between them. "She's been sleeping on the pew."

If possible, the young man looked even more nervous. "A kid?"

"I ain't a kid," Laura corrected as she sat up.

She pivoted sharply. Her whisper was just as sharp. "Laura. Hush! Not another word!"

Her daughter looked properly quashed. She nodded her head. "Yes, Ma'am.'

"Great. A kid." Lucas swore under his breath and then winced. With a glance at Laura he said, "Sorry."

So, he had a conscience.

That or he was apologizing for what he was about to do.

"Let Laura go." The words were out of her mouth before Caroline knew they were coming. "Please, let her go."

"Ma, no! I ain't goin' without you!"

"Hush!" she warned even as Laura came to her side.

"Ma..."

Lucas was shaking his head. "I...don't...know..."

"I do," the blonde woman said. "You claim you came here to find sanctuary. Is that true, or are you holding us hostage?"

He blinked, unsure. "I gotta do what I gotta do."

"Does that include threatening a child?" she snapped. "Let her go. Her father's in town –"

"Your man's in town? Oh, that's great. Just great!" The young man's hand began to shake as his fear ratcheted up. "Is he coming here?"

Caroline closed her eyes. She prayed to God that Charles would stay far away, even though she knew that prayer was in vain.

"Eventually." Caroline took a step toward him. "The Reverend Alden will be back soon as well. Lucas, why don't you give me that gun and –"

"No!" he shouted as his knuckles went white on the weapon. "I ain't goin' back! I ain't ever goin' back! I don't want to hurt you, Ma'am, but I'm gonna do whatever I have to do to be sure I don't!"

Laura tugged at her skirt. "Ma, you think he escaped from one of those prison wagons?" she asked quietly.

That was exactly what she thought.

Which meant the men who hunted Lucas could not be far behind.

Using her best 'ma' tone, she said, "Lucas. Listen to me. If you're caught..." The blonde woman hesitated as he bristled and shook his head. "If you're caught and you are holding a child hostage, things will go bad for you."

"Worse than holding a woman hostage?" he scoffed.

"Yes. I'm a grown woman. I can make my own choice to stay." Caroline glanced at her daughter who was vehemently shaking her head and mouthing 'no'. Then she looked back at him. "Laura can't make that kind of decision. She's not old enough." Tears entered her eyes as she pleaded, "Lucas, as a mother, I'm asking that you to do the right thing and let my daughter go."

The young man stared at her hard. He sniffed, ran the hand that held the gun under his nose, and then nodded.

Steeling herself, Caroline turned to her child. "Laura, I want you to walk out that door and go find your father. Tell him I'm all right and that he isn't to come charging in here. You tell the Reverend Alden the same thing as well." She paused to collect herself and then knelt so she was on the same level as the little girl. "I love you, Laura. You be sure to tell your Pa I love him too and I'll see him soon."

"Ma..."

Tears were streaming down Laura's face. She reached up to wipe them away with the end of her apron. "We're in God's house. God will take care of me. Now you go! That's an order!"

Laura's jaw was nearly as tight as Lucas'. She could read defiance in her eyes, but then Laura was obedient. She nodded, once.

"I'll go find, Pa," she said as she started to move.

Caroline caught her arm. "And tell him not to charge in here."

Laura sighed, found out. "And tell Pa not to charge in. Yes, Ma'am."

"Promise?"

Laura was hurting. She wished she could have done something to make this easier, but there was nothing.

"Promise," she whispered.

"Hurry it up!" Lucas growled.

Caroline glanced at him and then she took her daughter's hand and walked her to the door. As they approached the young man removed the pole and opened it about a foot wide – just enough for Laura to slip through. As he did, the blonde woman caught a glimpse of the Reverend Alden – tray and all – headed their way. For a second, she considered trying to dash through with her child, but then, decided against it.

The threat to Laura and Robert was all too real.

As Laura's foot hit the first step, the reverend looked up. Their eyes locked for several long heartbeats. Caroline shook her head even as Lucas caught her arm and drew her back.

Just before he closed the door and barred it again from the inside.