A Question 0f Faith (Historical Christian Romance)

second. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“Turn around,” she orders.
“What?” he says. He slides his pistols back in the holsters and looks at her.
“I need to check something. Turn around or step outside for a second.” She gestures to the door.
“I’m not leaving you again, Abbs.” He turns around and rubs a hand over his eyes, wondering what he’s gotten himself into.
Abbie quickly unbuttons the top of her dress to check the paperwork slipped inside the corset of her dress. “Still there, Thank God,” she sighs, buttoning up quickly and straightens her dress.
“Everything in order?” he quips.
“Perfectly. Now let’s get out of here.”
Tucker turns and steps in front of her before she can touch the door. “Abbilene, whoever attacked you may not be working alone. I need you to trust me and do exactly as I say. Do you understand?”
“Of course.” Staring up into Tucker’s face, she is sorely tempted to touch him. “I do trust you, Tucker. More than you know.”
Humbled, he nods. “Thank you.”
A knock sounds on the door, and he pushes Abbie behind him as reaches for his pistol.
“It’s Dr. Hayden. I’m here to check on the patient,” he offers.
Tucker keeps one hand behind him, making sure Abbie doesn’t move and draws the door open slowly with his pistol raised.
Dr. Hayden’s eyes fly open wide when he’s greeted with a gun. “I can come back if it’s not a good time.”
“Step back, Doc,” he leans out and checks the hallway in both directions. Finding it clear, he holsters his pistol and steps back to let him inside.
“I’m here to check on my patient.” He smiles when he finds Abbie behind Tucker.
“That’s very kind of you, Dr. Hayden,” Abbie says and sits down to let him check her head wound.
She winces as he presses on her head and nods when he gives her directions on self-care. “I think I’ll be fine. The sling was a good idea. How’s your shoulder?”
“Growing sorer by the second,” she squeezes her eyes shut and grits her teeth when he prods the collar bone.
“Just bruised, thankfully. You can sleep in three more hours. Do you have any questions?” he asks glancing at Tucker nervously.
“No, thank you.” Abbie offers to pay him, but he shakes his head no.
“My salary is paid by the train station. Safe travels, Mrs. Gilbert.” He snaps his leather bag shut and hurries to the door, followed by Tucker.
“Do you have any news for me?” Tucker studies his response with piercing scrutiny.
“It seems there were three similar attacks on the train. I’m afraid it was a simple robbery. Nothing personal. The witnesses can’t recall his features, they said that it happened too fast.”
“I see.”
Doctor Hayden’s eyes drift around the cabin before lingering on Abbie. Tucker steps in front of her to block the view and gestures to the door.
“Thank you, Doctor Hayden. Have a nice night.”
Dr. Hayden’s eyes flick to Abbie once more, who is sitting on the couch with her head on the ice pack once more. “You too.”
Tucker watches him leave with a frown and watches until he’s out of sight. A porter steps from the cabin two doors down and Tucker waves him over.
“When is the next stop?” he asks.
“About fifteen minutes. Is there a problem?”
“No. A change of plans.” He speaks quietly, and the porter’s eyes grow large when Tucker offers him fifty dollars to help him.
“I’m all yours!”
“At the next stop, I need you to send a telegram.”
“I can do better than that, Sir. We have a telegraph on board.”
Tucker grins, “Even better.”

Chapter 20
Dr. Clint Hayden returns to the cabin an hour later with two friends. They flank the door with pistols ready while he knocks on the cabin door. He frowns when he gets no answer. A porter slides the door closed, a few doors down carrying a tray of dirty dishes.
“You there! I’m here to check on Mrs. Gilbert. Can you tell me where she is?”
“Yes, Sir. They got off not more than an hour ago.”
He curses and breaks into a run, shoving the porter into the wall and almost sending the dishes clattering to the floor. A shout has his companions following him. They leap down and run to the station just as the final whistle blows. The Porter grins and knocks on the door he’d retrieved the dishes from.
A knock sounds back, and Tucker sighs in relief. He watches from a crack in the curtain as Dr. Hayden quickly walks down the wooden platform with his two companions.
“Do you recognize them?” he asks. Abbie peers through the curtain and shakes her head no.
“That’s the doctor! I don’t know any of them. Who are they? Why would they attack me?” she asks.
“Abbie, you are set to inherit a great deal of money. It could be as simple as they don’t want you to inherit, or someone angry about the accident.”
“I see,” she sits heavily. “How did you know it was him?” Her head is aching, and she’s exhausted.
“He called you Mrs. Gilbert. I never gave him your married name.” Tucker glares out the window, and his hand grips the window frame tightly.
“Am I selfish to bring a child home to this, Tucker? It never occurred to me that he wouldn’t be safe with me.” Her hands tremble when she starts running the possibilities through her mind.
Tucker watches from the window to see if they return and when the train finally starts to move, he relaxes and turns to look at her.
“Abbie, he is the only heir to a lot of money. He could be in danger for that reason alone. I think the safest place for him is with you.”
“I hope so,” she