Would Adie come? He hoped so, but he didn’t think she would. Last night at supper, Caroline and Pearl had asked him to lead a Bible Study. Josh had agreed and they’d made plans for Thursday. Bessie liked the idea and even Mary said she’d attend. Adie hadn’t said a word. She’d made it clear that she didn’t think much of churches and the men who ran them. Josh wanted to know why. When the time was right, he’d ask.
Chapter Seven
Alone in the kitchen with Stephen on her hip, Adie tapped her toe as she waited for his milk to warm. Laughter filtered down the hallway from the parlor where her boarders had gathered for Josh’s Bible study. He’d stepped outside and would be back any minute. Adie wanted to be upstairs before he came through the door.
As she tested the milk, Mary walked into the kitchen. “You’re not going to hide in your room, are you?”
“I’m not hiding,” Adie replied. “I’m going to feed Stephen and put him to bed.”
“Feed him downstairs.”
“He’ll make too much noise.”
“Nonsense!”
“No, it’s not,” Adie insisted.
Mary’s eyes twinkled. “You know what I think?”
“No, but you’re going to tell me.”
“I think you like the reverend…a lot.”
“Mary!”
“See?” The saloon girl sounded wise. “Women only avoid men they care about. It can be love, hate or fear. No one hates Josh. He’s a gentleman. Even I like him. There’s no reason to fear him. That leaves—”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
The back door opened in the middle of her protest. Smiling, Josh looked from Mary to Adie. “What’s ridiculous?”
Adie turned to the stove to hide the pink stain on her cheeks.
Mary nudged her elbow as if they’d been sharing a joke. “It’s girl talk, Reverend. I’m trying to get Adie to stay for the Bible study.”
Of all the confounded choices…If she said no, Mary would think she had feelings for Josh. If she said yes, she’d have to sit through a harangue with Stephen in her lap. Adie had heard enough scripture from Old Man Long to last a lifetime. At night the family would sit in a circle while he read. Sometimes he thundered just at her.
Adie couldn’t see Josh thundering at anyone. On the other hand, she could imagine Mary teasing her for days. She needed a way out.
She looked to Josh for an excuse. “What if Stephen cries?”
“So what?”
“Babies fuss. Back in Kansas—” Adie sealed her lips. She’d slipped, badly. Emily had been in Kansas.
Mentioning it had to rouse his curiosity, but he looked disinterested. “This isn’t Kansas.”
Without a bit of hesitation, he walked out of the kitchen, leaving her alone with Mary. Without an excuse, Adie shrugged. “I’ll go, but I warned you about Stephen.”
Mary’s eyes twinkled with mischief, but she kept silent.
Adie lifted the bottle from the pot of water and followed her to the parlor. She saw Caroline and Bessie on the divan and Pearl on a hard chair from the dining room. She preferred it for her back. Josh was sitting in the armchair. Mary gave Adie the rocker next to him and squeezed onto the divan.
When the women were settled, he opened his Bible. “Ladies, shall we pray?”
Adie thought of Old Man Long. She wished she hadn’t come, but she couldn’t leave now.
The women bowed their heads. Adie followed their lead, but her neck ached with old resentments. In the Long home, she’d worked from dawn to dusk. Once she’d fallen asleep during the Bible reading and Old Man Long had slapped her for showing disrespect. As Josh asked the Lord to open their hearts, Adie’s chest ached. She’d been eight when her father went to pan gold and never returned. She’d been twelve when her mother died and sixteen when Timothy Long had trapped her in the attic. Where was God on that miserable night?
“Amen.” Josh’s voice rang with a joy Adie didn’t feel. He looked at her, then scanned the other faces. “Before we start, I have an announcement. This Sunday at ten o’clock, I’m holding a church service.”
Pearl looked pleased. “Where?”
“At Brick’s Saloon.”
“A saloon!” said Caroline.
Mary raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with that?”
“I’m just surprised,” Caroline answered.
So was Adie.
Bessie smiled. “It sounds like you’re putting down roots, Reverend.”
“No,” he said. “I’m just planting seeds. Someone else will tend them when I’m gone.” He scanned their faces, stopping when he reached Adie. “You’re all invited. In fact, I’m hoping for a little help.”
“What do you need?” Caroline asked.
“Cookies would be nice.”
“I’ll make macaroons.”
“Can anyone sing?” Josh asked.
Mary’s face lit up with interest, but just as quickly her smile sagged. “I used to.”
“Then you still can,” he said. “Any hymn would do.”
“Can I think about it?” she asked.
“Sure.”
He looked at Adie but said nothing. She hid her eyes by staring at Stephen’s nose.
Josh went back to business. “I thought we’d talk about a Psalm tonight. Any suggestions?”
Caroline, seated on Josh’s left, looked poised in a blue dress with a lace scarf draped around her neck. She’d washed her face and repinned her hair. Across from her, Adie felt like an out-of-place sparrow. Her brown dress had a spot on the bodice, and her hair had become untidy.
Caroline smiled demurely. “You pick, Reverend. I’m sure you have a favorite.”
“I do.”
Josh closed the Bible and recited words that Adie had never heard.
“O Lord, Thou hast searched me, and known me.
Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandeth my thoughts afar off.”
His voice went deep and low, slowing as the psalmist described his inability to hide himself from God, then soaring with the awareness of God’s infinite presence. He spoke about darkness and light being alike to God, how the writer had been fearfully and wonderfully made in his mother’s womb. How many times had Adie marveled at Stephen’s toes? She had no trouble believing in God, but she didn’t believe He loved His children like an earthly father. She’d lived through too much heartache.
Josh, though, spoke with power and compassion. Adie imagined him in a Boston cathedral and felt both awed and afraid. With the next verse, he focused on her.
“Search me, O God, and know my heart. Try me and know my thoughts.”
Adie didn’t want anyone to know her thoughts. She feared being found by Maggie’s brother and dreaded losing Stephen. Still focused on her face, Josh’s eyes filled with compassion, as if he were confessing his own anxious thoughts, his own worries. His voice gentled to a plea.
“See if there be any hurtful way in me, and lead me in Your way everlasting.”
Still holding her gaze, he whispered, “Amen.”
Adie didn’t want to hurt anyone, especially not Josh. Sometimes he reminded her so much of Maggie that her stomach knotted. Other times she felt certain that this good man couldn’t possibly be the ogre who’d driven Maggie from her home. The trunk held the answer, but she couldn’t bear the thought of opening it and losing her son.
Mary looked thoughtful. “Tell us, Reverend. Why is this Psalm your favorite?”
“It keeps me humble.”
Maggie’s brother didn’t know the meaning of the word. Feeling safer, Adie dared to look at his face.
His eyes glistened with the lamplight. “Back in Boston, I was an arrogant know-it-all. Deep down, I’m still that man.”
“No, you’re not!” Caroline insisted.
When Josh gave her a firm look, Adie felt oddly pleased.
“No, Caroline,” he said gently. “I am that man. Left to myself, I’m as prideful as ever. This Psalm reminds me that God knows me
inside and out. He’s with me, even when I stumble. He’s with each of you.”
Bessie looked wise and Mary seemed hopeful. Pearl was rubbing her belly as if to caress the baby, and Caroline had a worshipful expression Adie found irritating. As for herself, she didn’t believe a word Josh had said. Where was God when her mother died in the middle of the night? Adie had been alone at her bedside. She’d tried to dig the grave herself, but the task had been too great. She’d gone to Reverend Honeycutt for help and her life had turned wretched. And what about Maggie? She’d endured a hard labor and then died for her effort. Adie looked down at Stephen. She hadn’t been paying attention and he’d chugged half his bottle. He needed to be burped, so she raised him to her shoulder.
Josh watched the baby with stark longing. “God loves my sister, too.”
Adie wondered.
“Have you heard anything?” Bessie asked.
“No, but I’ve been asking around town.” He told them about his trip to the saloon and vaguely mentioned Miss Elsa’s Social Club. “At least I know where she’s not.”
“That’s a help,” Mary said.
Caroline looked concerned. “Did she have money when she left?”
“Her jewelry.”
Adie’s hand froze on Stephen’s back.
“Did you check the pawnbrokers?” Mary asked. “That’s what I do. I’d sell it and start over.”
“I hope she did,” Josh answered. “I left word around town that I’m looking for certain items.”
“Like what?” Caroline said.
Before Josh could answer, Stephen let out an angry cry. As Adie shifted him to her other shoulder, he lost the contents of his tummy. Sour milk dripped down the front of her dress.
“Ick,” said Mary.
Pearl turned green.
Bessie headed for the kitchen. “I’ll get a towel.”
Caroline stood to help her, but Josh stepped in front of her. “I’ll hold him. You go change.”
Before Adie could protest, he lifted the stinky, crying baby into his arms and held him as if he’d been given a precious gift. Still in the chair, Adie looked up at Josh, watching as he focused on Stephen and crooned. Would he see Maggie’s nose? Her heart-shaped face? Breathless, she waited for a glimmer of recognition. Instead she saw the most generous kind of love. There was Stephen, reeking of spit-up, kicking and crying. Yet in Josh’s eyes she saw nothing but joy. Compassion, too. The man knew about stomach trouble. Standing tall, he swayed with the baby in his arms, making silly talk until Stephen quieted.
He looked down at Adie. “He’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“He has your eyes.”
Icy tingles ripped down her spine, leaving her numb with fear. Her boarders knew she’d adopted Stephen. Once, during a thunderstorm, they’d each shared a secret. Stephen’s adoption had been hers. She’d never described Maggie or told her friend’s story, but they knew Stephen’s eyes would never match hers.
Mary and Pearl didn’t react, but Caroline stared at her.
“Go change,” Josh repeated. “We’ll wait for you.”
Adie wanted to grab her son and run. Instead she calmly walked to her room, where moonlight poured through the window. When she reached the trunk, she fell to her knees and wept. “Help me, Maggie. I don’t know what to do.”
She’d spoken to her friend’s memory, but Adie felt the presence of the God in Josh’s Psalm. He could see her now, on her knees and torn to pieces. Adie didn’t feel fearfully and wonderfully made. She felt wicked and deceitful for what she’d done.
She touched the lock with her fingertips, pressing until the brass felt warm. If she stood, she could fetch the key from the drawer. With a turn of her wrist, she could be free of her guilt. She’d show Josh the picture, he’d shake his head no and her worries would end. But the risk…If Maggie Butler and Emily Blue were the same woman, Josh would take his nephew home to Boston. Adie would lose her son. She’d purchased Swan’s Nest with Maggie’s money. He’d have the right to take her home. Where would Pearl go? What would happen to her friends? To her?
Her fingers slid away from the lock. The risk was too great. Determined to compose herself, she stumbled to her feet and put on fresh clothes, dawdling with the hope that Josh would give up and go to his room. She’d heard enough Bible reading for tonight…enough for the rest of her life. After several minutes, she went downstairs to fetch Stephen.
“Adie’s taking her sweet time,” Caroline said irritably.
Josh barely heard her. He was holding Stephen and couldn’t take his eyes off the boy’s face. In Boston, he’d christened babies in front of huge crowds. He’d enjoyed the moment, but his heart hadn’t stirred the way it did for Adie’s son.
Earlier Bessie had cleaned the child up. She’d wiped his face with a damp rag, then changed him into a baby gown she’d fetched from the laundry room. She’d offered to hold him, but Josh had said no. He hadn’t felt this peaceful in months, maybe never. He thought of Adie alone in her room. The Psalm had touched her, he felt sure of it. He hoped it touched everyone. Of the five women at Swan’s Nest, Bessie had the calmest disposition, but she also had an air of sorrow. Pearl was the most anxious. Caroline desperately needed someone to love and Mary needed someone to fight. That left Adie. What did she need?
A husband.
A friend.
Someone who’d protect her from Franklin Dean and pay the mortgage, a man who’d teach Stephen to fish and to read, to respect all men and fight for the people he’d come to love. Not once in Josh’s life had he wanted to be a father, but he did now. Looking at Adie’s son, he felt a connection that defied logic. The feeling stretched to Adie, too.
He’d glimpsed her face just before Stephen lost his supper. She’d gone pale. Why? He’d been talking about Emily, but he hadn’t been critical of anyone but himself. If he’d hurt Adie’s feelings, he wanted to apologize. As a man, he couldn’t stand the thought of her tears. As a minister, he wanted her to be at peace with herself and the Lord. He wanted to speak to her but not tonight. He’d had an upset of his own. She’d looked lovely in the lamplight and he’d caught himself looking twice, even a third time. Adie made him weak in the knees. Before he spent time with her, he had some praying to do.
“Let’s call it a night,” he said to the group.
Caroline frowned. “We could start without Adie.”
Josh held in a groan. Caroline had many fine traits, but he had no interest in her as a woman. Yesterday she’d offered to mend his shirts. He’d said no. He’d also imagined Adie’s fingers sewing the tear made by Buttons. Looking at her tonight, covered with the mess from Stephen, he’d imagined the joys he’d forsaken for the benefit of his calling. A wife…a child. He couldn’t go down that road, not with Emily missing and his history of pride.
“We’ll continue next week,” he said to the women.
Caroline smiled demurely. “It’s a lovely Psalm, Reverend.”
Lovely wasn’t how Josh would have described the words he’d just read. David, a gifted poet and powerful king, had known the torment of bad decisions.
Caroline said good-night and headed for the stairs. Mary and Pearl followed. Bessie watched them leave, then faced Josh. “May I speak with you, Reverend?”
“Of course.”
“It’s about Adie.”
He avoided gossip, but people often spoke to him in confidence about family members. The women at Swan’s Nest were sisters. “You sound worried.”
She lowered her voice. “Be kind to her.”
Had he been un-kind? “I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t, but you will. She and Stephen had a hard beginning. Your sister’s story hits close to home.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“She’s afraid.”
“Of what?”
“You, I think.”
Josh had seen that same fear in outlaw camps. It lived in the eyes of men who’d murdered and thought they were bey
ond mercy. Guilt wore a person to bare bones, and he feared Adie lived with that despair. He couldn’t stand the thought, especially while holding her son.
“When the time’s right, I’ll speak to her,” he said to Bessie.
“Don’t wait.”
He felt the same urgency. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“Tonight,” she insisted.
Before he could reply, Adie entered the parlor. She’d changed from the brown calico into the coppery dress that matched her hair. The color reminded him of maple leaves. Maples reminded him of home—not the mansion in Boston, but the home in his heart, the place he went when he closed his eyes and laid his humanity at God’s feet. Somehow Adie and home had become one thought. The realization shocked him to the core. He had no business thinking of Adie in that way. He had to find his sister and the search might never end.
Looking at her now, Josh knew he wasn’t the only troubled soul in the room. Her eyes had a dullness he’d never seen before, and her skin had gone from rosy to pallid. Bessie was right. He had to speak with her tonight.
Stephen had fallen asleep. Without meeting Josh’s gaze, Adie reached for her son. “It’s his bedtime. I’ll take him upstairs.”
Bessie cut in front of her. “I’ll do it.”
“No,” she insisted. “You’ve done enough.”
Josh maneuvered Stephen into the nurse’s arms. “If you don’t mind, Adie. I’d like a word with you.”
She looked ready to grab the baby and bolt, but Bessie had a firm hold. As the women locked eyes, Josh saw compassion in Bessie’s gaze and fear in Adie’s. The nurse didn’t give an inch. Defeated, Adie lowered her arms and turned to Josh with a hard look in her eyes. She was poised for a fight, which he didn’t mind at all. When it came to Adie, he welcomed the challenge.
As Bessie climbed the stairs, he turned up the lamp. He couldn’t change darkness to light, but the wick did a fair imitation. He indicated the divan. “Please, sit down.”
The Maverick Preacher Page 9
