In Josh’s experience, mockers came from two camps. Some had chips on their shoulders. They knew their Bible but had been hurt and wanted to fight. Josh gladly took them on. The second group made his blood run cold. They were hard men who bullied others. Before arriving at Swan’s Nest, he’d spent time with the Johnson gang. He’d seen Clay Johnson shoot a dog for wagging its tail at him. Josh didn’t know where the fellow with the bad teeth stood, but his instincts told him to be careful. Before he went back to Swan’s Nest, he intended to speak with the man. First, though, he had a sermon to give.
The words came to him easily. He told whatever Bible stories came to mind and trusted the Holy Ghost to make them real. Today he told the story about the prodigal son. By the time he finished, Brick and the cowboys were sitting tall and Miss Elsa’s girl looked alive with hope. The fourth man yawned.
“We’ll close with a hymn,” Josh said. “Who knows ‘Rock of Ages’?”
Four hands went up.
Josh got ready to embarrass himself. As Wes Daniels once said, he couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. In Boston, he’d had a choir to fill the gap and he had refused to try. Here he had only himself. With no room for pride, he made a joyful noise to the Lord. Noise, he knew, was being charitable.
As the group sang the last verse, the man with the yellow teeth left the saloon. After the final note, Bessie greeted the girl from Miss Elsa’s. As Caroline served cookies, Brick filled mugs with strong coffee. The small group lingered, chatting in the awkward way of strangers.
Josh motioned for Brick to step to the side. “Do you know the fellow who left?”
“Sure do. His name’s Horace.”
“Is he a regular?”
“On and off,” Brick answered. “He’s Franklin Dean’s driver. Dean owns—”
“The Denver National Bank,” Josh said dryly.
“That’s him.”
Josh thought of the man he’d chased out of the garden. They had similar builds.
“He doesn’t say much,” Brick added.
In Josh’s experience, snakes lay in wait. One had spoken to Eve, but most of them struck without warning.
“Hey, Reverend.”
Josh turned and saw the two cowboys. The younger raised his voice. “Thanks for the story.”
“You’re welcome.”
Caroline approached him with a smile. “Are you ready to go back to Swan’s Nest?”
Yes, but not with Caroline at his side. Josh had never been in this position. In Boston Emily had run interference for him. If she were here now, she would have spoken to Caroline without embarrassing her.
Bessie approached. “Wonderful sermon, Reverend.”
“Thank you.”
After giving Josh a knowing look, she turned to Caroline. “It’s time for us to go.”
Caroline frowned. “I thought Josh might like some company.”
Until now he’d been Reverend Blue.
“He doesn’t need us,” Bessie said lightly. “Do you, Reverend?”
Josh didn’t want to hurt Caroline’s feelings, but he had to discourage her. “Go on ahead. I’ll see everyone at supper.”
Caroline looked dismayed, but she followed Bessie out the door.
Josh looked in the basket he’d set on the counter. He hadn’t taken an offering, but he knew people would give. He saw a surprising amount of money, including two silver dollars. He didn’t care about the amount. What blessed him was knowing people valued the message. He picked up the basket, approached Brick and put some coins on the counter. “For the coffee.”
The barkeep shook his head. “You don’t have to pay me, Reverend. It’s my pleasure.”
“I’m not paying you. The congregation is.”
“I guess they did.” Brick smiled. “Will you be back next Sunday?”
“Definitely.”
No way could he leave Adie alone in Denver. Dean had sent a spy. Josh took it as a warning of trouble to come.
He put the rest of the offering in his pocket, then headed for Swan’s Nest. He knew exactly what to do with the remaining money. He’d give it away to people in need. Right now, Adie and her mortgage payment were at the top of the list. He had a hunch she’d argue with him. Her cheeks would turn pink and her eyes would flash. She’d act tough, but she didn’t stand a chance against Josh’s good intentions. Just for the joy of it, he added a gold coin of his own.
For the third time that morning, Adie lifted the sugar bowl from the cupboard and counted the money she’d set aside for the mortgage. She needed twenty-two dollars. She had sixteen and some change. Josh had already paid his rent. Without it, she would have been impossibly short. Both Caroline and Bessie owed for the week, but yesterday Caroline had said she’d be short. Adie had fumed. If the woman hadn’t been buying sugar for pies, she could have paid her rent. Bessie worked for Dr. Nichols. Sometimes he paid her a wage. Other times he shared what his clients gave him. A chicken, even a plump one, wouldn’t pay the mortgage.
Pearl paid nothing. Mary would contribute, but she’d missed two days of work because of a fever.
Barring a miracle, Adie would have to sell a piece of jewelry to meet her obligation. A single brooch would pay the mortgage for months, but Josh checked the jewelry stores every day. She knew his habits because of Caroline. Every night at supper, she asked if he’d learned anything about his sister. Every night, he gave the same answer.
“Not yet,” he’d reply. “But I won’t give up.”
Adie believed him.
With her stomach churning, she put away the money and looked at Stephen, asleep in the wicker basket she’d lined with cotton. He’d gone three days without colic. Every day Adie looked at his eyes for signs they’d turn brown like Maggie’s. They were still blue…like Josh’s.
Sighing, she stirred the soup. It looked thin, but she didn’t want to sacrifice another chicken. She needed the eggs. She’d saved some carrots from her trampled garden, but they didn’t make up for meat. Even if she scraped together the mortgage money, she needed feed for Buttons, shingles for the roof and food for six adults.
Footsteps padded down the hall. She looked up and saw Mary, dressed in faded calico with a shawl on her shoulders.
“You should be in bed,” Adie scolded.
“I’m better.”
“The fever could come back.”
If Mary’s illness returned, she wouldn’t be able to work. If she couldn’t work, she couldn’t pay her rent. Adie instantly felt selfish for the thought. What had happened to her goodwill? She wanted Swan’s Nest to be a haven for women in need, not a place of disgrace.
Mary reached into the side pocket of her dress. “The mortgage is due in a few days, isn’t it?”
“On Tuesday.”
“Here.” She set a handful of coins on the table. “It’s all I’ve got, almost three dollars. I know things are tight.”
Adie did some quick arithmetic. She needed another three dollars for the mortgage and spending money for the week. Maybe she could sell some of the linens stored in Josh’s room, though she’d tried before and had gotten pennies.
“Will we make it?” Mary asked.
“I think so.” Adie stirred the soup. Her boarders knew she struggled to make ends meet, but no one knew about the jewelry.
Mary glanced at the pot on the stove. “It smells good.”
“Would you like some?”
“Just a little.”
As she sat, the back door opened and Josh walked into the kitchen. “Good morning, ladies,” he said as he hung his hat on a hook.
“Hello, Reverend,” Mary answered.
Adie focused on the soup. Since the night on the porch, she hadn’t been able to look Josh in the eye. Good manners demanded that she offer him a bowl, but she didn’t want him to stay in the kitchen. She mumbled a greeting as thin as the broth.
“How was the service?” Mary asked.
“Good.”
“I hear Bessie and Caroline enjoyed it.”
&
nbsp; Josh chuckled. “Maybe the preaching, but we need someone who can sing.”
Mary gave a wistful sigh. “I used to sing every Saturday night. People came to the Ridgemont Canary just to hear me.”
As Adie ladled soup for Mary, she heard chairs scraping against the floor, then the rustle of cotton as Mary sat first, then Josh. She didn’t dare look up. If she kept her eyes down, she stood a better chance of avoiding conversation. Feeling invisible, she listened as Mary revealed to Josh that she’d sung in a fancy music hall in Texas and had come close to joining a traveling revue. Adie wondered what had stopped her.
If Josh wondered, he kept the question to himself. “If you’re free next Sunday, I hope you’ll sing for us.”
Adie had filled the bowl to the brim. She didn’t want to look Josh in the eye, but she had to bring the soup to Mary. As she turned, she heard a tremor in Mary’s voice.
“Are you sure, Reverend? I’m not exactly…you know.”
“I know, all right.” He focused solely on Mary. “I’m not ‘exactly,’ either.”
Neither was Adie.
The bowl dipped in her hand. Josh, tall and dark in his black coat, pushed up from the chair and steadied her grip with his long fingers. The sight of him should have filled her with resentment. Instead she saw his clear eyes and felt as if he truly understood the shame of her deception. His hair, slightly mussed from the hat he’d hung by the door, wisped over his ears and collar. The coat matched the raven color and made his features even sharper.
He lifted the bowl from her hands. “I’ve got it.”
As he served Mary, Adie felt shaken to the core. Surely Maggie’s brother wouldn’t sit in a kitchen with a saloon girl and an unwed mother. He’d been a Boston muck-a-muck, not a man who’d hold church in a saloon. Oh, how she wanted to believe that lie….
Mary took a sip of soup, then gave Adie a pointed look. “The reverend might be hungry.”
“I’m fine,” he answered.
“Don’t be silly,” Mary said. “Please, join us.”
Josh had gained weight, but he looked thin today. He’d had milk and bread for breakfast, but not a midday meal that she knew about. She feared his company, but she couldn’t let him go hungry. “Mary’s right. You need to eat.”
“Thank you.”
As she filled another bowl, she listened to Josh taking to Mary about her choice of hymns. She knew dozens, including a few Adie had liked as a little girl.
“I’ll sing, but only if you’re sure,” she said.
“I’m positive,” he replied.
Adie set the bowl in front of him. He looked up and smiled. “Thank you.”
Mary ate quickly, then carried her bowl to the counter. “Thank you, Adie. I’m going back upstairs.”
“Wait—”
Mary stopped. “Do you want me to take Stephen?”
“No, I just—” She didn’t want to be alone with Josh but couldn’t say it. She felt foolish. She also knew Stephen would be happier in his cradle. “Yes, take him. That would be nice.”
Mary lifted the basket and the baby, then shot Adie a look. “The reverend might enjoy the bread you baked.”
Adie wanted Josh to finish his soup and leave, not linger over bread and butter. She frowned but went to the bread box and removed the fresh loaf. As Mary left the kitchen, Adie sliced the bread, put it on a plate and fetched the butter crock. She set everything on the table. Before she could turn, Josh caught her eye.
“I’d like to speak to you,” he said quietly.
“What is it?”
“I have something to give you.” He stood and indicated Mary’s chair. “Please, sit down.”
His Boston manners made her nervous, but she couldn’t avoid him. She sat and folded her hands. Josh reached into his coat pocket and extracted a handful of coins. As they plinked on the table, she spotted two silver dollars and a golden half eagle. As she looked up with shock, Josh sat back on the chair.
“I know money’s tight.” He slid the pile in her direction. “You have a need and I believe God wants to meet it. This is for you. It’s today’s offering from church.”
She desperately needed the money, but she felt dishonest taking it from Josh. His generosity would protect her secret. The irony shamed her. “I can’t accept.”
“Sure you can.”
She looked at her lap.
Josh made his voice light. “Don’t be shy, Adie. I know your secret.”
Startled, she raised her head. “What secret?”
“You’re as prideful as I am.”
She couldn’t swallow. “Is that all?”
“I don’t know. Is there more?” He touched her hand. “Whatever’s in your heart, it’s between you and God. When I look at you, I see an honest, hardworking woman. I’m proud to know you.”
Could she feel any lower than she did right now? Adie didn’t think so.
Still holding her hand, he kept his voice low. “This gift is between you and God, too. You can toss it in the air if you want, but I hope you’ll use it for the mortgage.”
He released her hand and picked up his spoon. Unable to speak, she watched as he finished his soup, savoring every bite as if it were worth more than the pile of coins. When he finished, he carried the bowl to the counter, lifted his hat from the hook and went to his room without another word.
Adie looked at his retreating back, then touched the coins with a single thought. Joshua Blue was the kindest, most honorable man she’d ever know. She pushed to her feet and called down the hall. “Josh?”
He stopped but didn’t turn. “Yes?”
“Thank you.”
As if he wasn’t sure he should look, he faced her. As a cloud passed away from the sun, light shot through the window, warming her face and making her squint. Josh faded to a shadow, but she heard his voice.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “But it’s not from me.”
The door to his room closed with a soft click. Adie should have been relieved, but she wanted to run down the hall and pound on the wood. Her heart ached with the need to confess.
I had a friend named Maggie Butler. Stephen could be your nephew.
The thought choked her. She simply couldn’t do it.
She wouldn’t.
She swept the coins into her palm and added them to the sugar bowl. On Tuesday she’d make the payment, but using Josh’s money—or God’s money—left her bitter. Her soul, already ragged, raveled to a frayed edge. Even worse, her heart ached for Josh. She wanted to ease his burden almost as much as she wanted to protect Stephen from Maggie’s brother.
Shaking inside, she closed the cupboard and turned back to the soup. As she gave it a stir, steam dampened her face. She heard footsteps in the hall, looked up and saw Caroline still wearing her Sunday best. The woman said hello, then helped herself to a glass of water. “Church was wonderful.”
Adie didn’t want to hear it.
“Josh is the best preacher I’ve ever heard.”
When had Josh invited Caroline to use his given name? Adie used it, but they’d become friends. Her conscience lurched with another half-truth. Her feelings for Josh ran far deeper than friendship. The admission made her head spin. She didn’t want to love Josh or any man. She couldn’t. Not with a life built on secrets, half-truths and bald-faced lies.
Caroline headed for the pantry. “Seven people came to Brick’s.”
Adie thought of the offering. Someone had given generously, a sign that Josh’s words had mattered.
“That’s nice,” she replied.
“I bet more people come next week.”
Adie’s felt a stab of fear. He’d asked Mary to sing. Adie had heard her friend’s soprano and knew she’d attract visitors. Josh’s preaching had filled a Boston cathedral. What if his little church grew each week? If he stayed in Denver, Adie would be afraid forever.
Caroline opened the pantry and removed the pie she’d baked for dessert. Adie had had enough. Looking over her shoulder, she fr
owned. “We don’t need dessert every night.”
“Josh likes apple pie.”
“He’s being polite.” Adie knew for a fact he preferred pound cake with strawberries. She thought of the squashed berry plants and felt angry all over again.
Caroline eyed her thoughtfully. “You like him, don’t you?”
“Of course not!”
She’d answered too quickly. A smile curved on Caroline’s lips. “That’s what I thought.”
“I like him,” Adie admitted. “But not in that way.”
“I like him, too.” Caroline’s eyes turned wistful. “I was married once, you know.”
To a man of color in the South…Caroline had seen him lynched. Adie felt stricken. Who was she to criticize Caroline’s feelings for Josh? Or his feelings for Caroline? If he’d invited her to use his given name, perhaps he had an interest in her. Why not? Caroline had wavy dark hair, green eyes and a bow-shaped mouth. Any man would find her pretty and she had a sharp mind.
Caroline set the pie on the counter. “I know I’ve overdone it with the baking, but it feels good to want to do it.”
Adie stirred the soup. “I wouldn’t know.”
“You’ve never been in love?”
“No.”
Caroline made a humming sound. “It’s the best feeling in the world. I remember how it was with Samuel. It was dangerous, but I don’t regret a minute.”
Adie didn’t know what to think. All her life she’d been afraid. She’d worried that her father wouldn’t come home and one day he hadn’t. She’d fretted over her mother’s health and she’d died. She’d feared Timothy Long and Reverend Honeycutt and they’d both harmed her. She understood fear far better than love, yet with Josh she wondered…What would it be like to live with confidence? To feel safe and be free of secrets?
She put the lid on the soup. It would simmer until supper. So would her problems and there was nothing she could do. Until Josh left Denver, she’d be a nervous wreck. Seeing no escape, she went upstairs to hold her son.
The Maverick Preacher Page 11
