Kid had told Ruth about Lydia and how she didn't want her knowing, so she hadn't let onto the girl that she knew now about her mother and living situation. She had tried to find little, subtle ways to show her that she wouldn't condemn her, but she remained too afraid to confide in her.

Back in St. Louis, Kid and Ruth dropped Camille off first. Kid helped her down. She didn't let go of Kid right away and Carmel nipped her backside as if she'd had enough of her. She quickly backed up out of the reach of the horse's mouth.

"Sorry about that. It must be your perfume she don't like. She's generally as gentle as a lamb," Ruth said. She also thought perhaps the horse could sense Camille's dislike of her. Animals could be sensitive that way.

Camille looked at her as if she thought Ruth had put the horse up to it. Then she said to Kid, "We'll be in touch, I suppose. The baby will be coming in 7 months if I estimate right. You're sure you'll still be here in May?"

"If we have to leave and we might, we'll be back for the baby. It's a promise."

She nodded without further comment and went into the saloon.

Ruth got off of Horse and onto Carmel with Lydia. "Well, now we need to be getting you to your momma."

She deflated like a balloon. She'd been hoping after all this time Sister Ruth would insist that she just couldn't do without her. "Just let me off. I'll go from here."

"It ain't safe in this part of the city and I'd like to talk to your mother and explain things."

"There ain't nothing to explain. Besides, she probably didn't even notice I was gone." She muttered that last part to herself.

"What's that?" Ruth asked.

"Nothing. It ain't far from here and I'll tell her myself, I promise."

"I just can't allow you to do that, Lydia, so you going to tell us where you live?"

She didn't answer.

"Look at those clouds." Lydia complied and saw the sky did indeed have an ominous, dark look. "It's going to storm before too long and it ain't going to be no little drizzle. You're going to need an ark to get back in this kind of weather. We all will."

"A what?" Lydia asked.

"Noah's boat," she clarified.

"Oh," she replied. It was clear that piece of information hadn't clued her in very much.

She'd read from the Bible to Lydia during the trip, but she hadn't noticed that she was completely lacking in a biblical foundation until Kid had told her about Florine. Of course, she'd been rather distracted worrying about Kid. "Please, won't you tell me? I could ask around, but you could save me some time."

"I live here," she admitted at last when she saw that Ruth wasn't going to give up. If she snunk off, she probably would ask around until she found her anyway. What did it matter now, she told herself, but still she looked at the ground, trying to find something to focus on to keep herself from crying when she was rejected. "On this street."

"Which building?"

Sister Ruth's voice sounded gentler than before, causing Lydia to look up again. "Down there on the corner."

The building she referred to was the rattiest of them all. It looked like a stiff breeze could knock it over any moment.

Ruth and Kid turned the horses and began going in that direction.

Kid stopped his horse when he saw a discarded newspaper on the sidewalk. He got down and retrieved it. His hope was that there'd be a helpful article in there, information on a new robbery possibly, but it was something on the front page that caught his attention. He swung back on Horse and then handed her the copy of the Missouri Gazette. "Read that."

"That Tom Thumb is peculiar looking," she said, looking at the illustration that had been drawn of the locomotive, "and it says here that although it didn't win the race with a horse because of a slipped belt, it was faster. Don't sound altogether safe though and can you imagine the noise that thing would make? Still it seems like it'll be the transportation of the future if they can work out the problems with it and I certainly wouldn't be opposed to faster travel. Just imagine the opportunities it'll open up."

"The article below it," he said.

"Oh, mercy," she said softly as she read the first line. It only got worse as she read on. "Oh, heavens," she said, finishing the article. "I'd forgotten about that completely. The man that wrote this told me he was going to put my whereabouts in the paper when I ran into him down here. I didn't pay it much attention because I was so worried about you, but I expected a scathing editorial at worst, not boldfaced lies." She didn't repeat some of the shocking statements with young ears listening though likely it was nothing she hadn't heard before given the way she was raised.

"I think I'm going to pay this new friend of yours a visit," he said. "He'll be writing a retraction in the next issue."

"Now, Kid, what does it matter now? The damage is already done. It ain't going to erase the thoughts from people's heads. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened anyway. The devil's never happy when souls are being won for Christ and the truth is never as interesting as fiction. You should know that better than anyone. Besides, you should be focusing on finding your thief."

"How many you think'll be coming to your revival now with that printed trash?" he asked, knowing that was something she would care about.

"I don't know. I reckon we'll see. At least I wasn't the top story. Thank God for Tom Thumb. Maybe people barely glanced at my story."

His look said the likelihood he thought of that, but he resumed the ride, having felt a fat raindrop hit his hand.

It was more brothel than saloon though it certainly had a small room for drinking and card playing. There were only 2 drinking customers at the moment. It made Ruth want to cry to think of Lydia having had to grow up in a place like this. From the way she shrunk against her, she'd had some bad experiences in this room.

They must have looked downright comical, a family-looking unit in a place of ill repute, but no one gawked at them overly long and no one moved to stop them. The barkeeper must have given them a pass since they were with Lydia.

Lydia led them to her mother's room. It was the middle of the day, so she wasn't entertaining men, but she was obviously heavily intoxicated. Her hair was unkempt as her daughter's had been before Ruth had gotten hold of her. If she was surprised to see two strangers waltz in, she didn't say so. She barely acknowledged them in her drunken haze.

"We're bringing your daughter home," Ruth said. "She followed us to Franklin."

"I wondered where she'd gotten off to," she said in a slurred, disinterested voice, but then she glanced at Lydia sharply. "You been causing this lady trouble?"

"No, Ma," she answered softly.

When it didn't look as if her mother were buying it, Ruth said, "Not at all, she was a big help to me these past couple weeks."

"Who are you anyway?" she said, turning her irritation on her instead.

"This is Sister Ruth," Lydia answered. "She can heal people right up just by putting her hand on them and telling them about God."

She humphed and then her barely-able-to-focus eyes fell on Kid. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

"Name's Kid Cole," he answered.

"Ah, that's it. You come for my attentions?"

He turned a little red. "No, ma'am. I came to return your daughter. Sister Ruth is my wife."

"Is that right?"

"We're a little worried, Miss Florine, about her," Ruth said. "With your permission, we'd like to try and find her a home where she can receive more attention. Away from these, um, unfit conditions. Surely you know what could happen to her if she stays, especially as she begins to blossom into a young woman. I'd see to it that she had loving, Christian parents."

"Who are you to tell me what I should be doing with my own flesh and blood? I won't fill her head full of fairy tales about God. Life is hard and she might as well know that now."

Lydia walked them out to the hallway.

"There's no use talking to her now," Lydia said quietly. "Maybe when she sobers up."

Ruth could tell by her tone that those times were few and far between. "You think you want to come to church with us tomorrow?"

"Would I?" she said, her eyes lighting up. "Ma won't care cause she'll be asleep by then, but maybe you could pick me up at the other end of the street?"

"Sure we can," Kid told her.

"We've got to find a way to help that little girl," Ruth said to him once they were outside. The promised rain was now coming down hard and washing away the refuse that was rampant on this street as if God were trying to tell the residents what He could do with their sins. They dashed to the other side of the street where an overhanging would keep them dry until the storm passed.