The trip back home in the rickety, old wagon was bone jarring to say the least and each turn of the wheel seemed to tighten a vice around Charity 's heart that caused it to feel heavier and heavier. For the first few miles, she sat quietly, thinking exclusively about her life with her grandparents. She thought about how they had always been a part of her life; her earliest memories. She had no memory of her mother and father- all she really knew about them was what her grandparents told her. Her grandmother and grandfather were the only parents she’d ever known. After seeing Eli, she had a faint recollection of seeing him sometime before, maybe when she was small. And, other than Tokola, the old Indian man that came often to the cabin, they were the only people she’d ever interacted with until her grandfather took her with him to Eli’s. Charity was deep in thought when she finally realized that the wagon had stopped moving and that Henry was speaking to her.
“Hmm, I 'm sorry, Henry, I was just thinking,” she said.
“It 's alright, I understand,” Henry replied. “I was just asking, which way to go now. I see a fork in the trail up ahead and I don‘t know which way to go.”
Looking up the trail, Charity was taken aback. She did not know which trail led to the cabin. She didn’t remember the fork in the road either.
The squawk of an eagle drew her eyes to a tall pine tree. Suddenly, she remembered the dream she had the night her grandfather died. She looked to the eagle atop the…