Then what do you suggest? You want to take my children? Is that it? You're working for Thomas Avery? The man frowned.
I don't know who that is. Then what do you want? Silence. The man looked at her for a long moment, then quietly. To help.
Why? Because you need it. Mara laughed. A sharp bitter sound. People don't just help.
Not without wanting something. The man's expression didn't change. I do. She searched his face, looking for the lie, the angle, the trap. She didn't find one.
I don't even know your name, she whispered. Silas Hawthorne. I'm Mara. Mara Ellington. Silas nodded once.
Then he knelt down beside the wagon, ran his hand along the broken axle, and stood. I can fix this. Won't be pretty, but it'll hold. There's a creek about 3 mi west. Good water, shade.
You and the children can rest there while I work. I can't pay you. Didn't ask you to. I don't have anything to give you. Didn't ask for anything.
Mara's throat tightened. Why are you doing this? Silas looked at her, then at the children watching from the wagon with wide, frightened eyes. Because someone should have done it for my family, he said quietly. and no one did. Before Mara could respond, he'd already turned back to his horse, pulling tools from his saddle bag.
He worked in silence, quick and efficient, reinforcing the axle with strips of leather and a piece of iron he'd had tucked away. Jonah stepped forward hesitantly. "Mister, can can I help?" Silas glanced up, studied the boy for a moment, then nodded. "Hold this steady." Jonah's face lit up. He grabbed the axle, bracing it while Silas secured the bindings.
Mara watched, her mind spinning. She didn't trust this, couldn't afford to, but Samuel was drinking from the canteen now, and the other children were watching Silas with something she hadn't seen in their eyes for weeks. Hope. It took less than an hour. When Silas stood wiping his hands on his coat, the axle was solid.
Not perfect, but functional. "That'll get you to the creek," he said. After that, we'll see. You're coming with us?" Mara asked, startled. Silas looked at her, his expression unreadable.
"You think I'd fix your wagon, and just leave you out here." "I I don't know what to think." "Then don't. Just come with me." He climbed back onto his horse, took the rope harness from Mara's shoulders before she could protest, and tied it to his saddle. The wagon lurched forward, rolling smooth and steady for the first time in days. Mara stood there stunned as Silas looked back at her. "You coming?" he asked.