The Maverick Preacher

by Victoria Bylin

  Horace was still waiting for an answer. Josh stifled a groan. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “I hope you stay, sir.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  “This Sunday,” Horace said. “Will you be at Brick’s? Something happened to me tonight. I want to tell about it.”

  Josh wouldn’t miss that moment for anything. “I’ll be there.”

  As the driver went to the carriage, Josh headed to Swan’s Nest. Every step jarred his ribs, reminding him of the ulcer and the night he’d collapsed on Adie’s porch. They’d come a long way, but the journey wasn’t complete. It wouldn’t be until he saw her reaction to Dean’s passing. He didn’t expect her to mourn the man. She’d be relieved just as he was, but Josh hoped she wouldn’t dance on his grave.

  He also worried that she’d feel vindictive toward Horace and the elders. Josh’s battle with Dean had been to protect Adie from bodily harm. The next battle was for her soul. As much as he wanted to fight for her, he couldn’t. The war was between Adie and God and she had to win it for herself.

  A knock on the door jarred Adie to the marrow. Pearl had gone upstairs an hour ago. Mary had already come in from the garden, leaving Adie alone with the lamp turned low and Emily’s journal. She’d started at the beginning and had just reread Emily’s declaration of love for Dennis.

  The knock came again, louder this time. Adie stepped to the window, peeked through the curtain and saw Josh. She flung the door wide, then gasped at the sight of him. Blood oozed from an abrasion on his cheek. He had a lump on his jaw and his right eye would be swollen shut by morning. Just as startling, he wasn’t wearing his black coat. Dirt streaked his white linen shirt as if he’d been repeatedly kicked in the ribs.

  Adie grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. “You’re a wreck! What happened to you?”

  He squeezed her fingers. “Dean’s dead.”

  “Dead?”

  “Horace killed him.”

  Adie gasped. “You were there.”

  “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you everything but—” He winced.

  “You need to sit.” She hooked her arm around his waist so he could lean on her. “I want to clean your cuts. Can you make it to the kitchen?”

  “I’m all right.”

  “No, you’re not.” Adie didn’t have the facts, but the evidence spoke for itself. Dean had accosted Josh. She didn’t know if Horace was part of the beating, but she didn’t care. Both men had tried for weeks to ruin her life. “I’d like to pound whoever did this to you into the ground!”

  Josh stiffened. “Dean got pounded, all right.”

  She helped him into a chair, then filled a bowl with hot water. After taking a soft towel from a drawer, she positioned a chair across from him and went to work cleaning his cuts. As she dabbed at the blood, he told her about the fight in front of the church, Dean’s threats and how Horace had intervened. By the time he finished, Adie felt a rage so profound she couldn’t contain it.

  She shot to her feet. “I hate Franklin Dean. I’m glad he’s dead.”

  “We owe that relief to Horace.”

  Adie scowled. “I suppose.”

  “He saved my life,” Josh said gently. “He also confessed to the vandalism and the fire. He’s afraid you’ll press charges.”

  She huffed. “I’m not that hardhearted. Dean was behind it, not Horace.”

  “Will you speak with him? He wants to apologize.”

  “I guess.” But her heart wouldn’t be in it.

  Josh said nothing.

  She squeezed his hand. “Tonight’s been awful for you. I heard about the meeting, how they attacked Emily and—”

  “Adie, stop.”

  “They said terrible things about you! They—”

  He cupped her face in his palms, forcing her to look into his eyes. “I don’t hate them. I don’t hate Dean, either. I hate what he did. There’s a difference.”

  Adie didn’t see it. “He tried to kill you!”

  “Listen to me.” He spoke with an urgency that made her go still. “I forgive him for what he did to me. It’s harder to forgive him for what he did to you, but Christ died for those sins, too.”

  “I don’t care!”

  As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized how profoundly she meant them. She pushed to her feet and turned away, but she couldn’t stop seeing Josh’s bruised face. She heard the scrape of his chair, then felt his hands on her shoulders. She didn’t dare turn around. He’d see bitterness in her eyes, and she’d see pity in his. She laced her arms across her chest. “I’m glad Dean’s dead. I wish Honeycutt were dead, too. And Timothy Long!”

  “Adie—”

  She whirled to face him, tearing away from his grip. “Don’t you understand? I can’t forgive them.”

  “It’s not a feeling,” he said. “It’s a choice. Believe me, I didn’t feel particularly charitable while Frank was beating the stuffing out of me. But I knew deep down that he was just a damaged, stupid man.”

  “He’s worse than that,” Adie insisted. “He was a monster! I’ll never believe otherwise. I don’t want to!”

  His voice dropped to a hush. “Why not?”

  “I just don’t.” She didn’t tell Josh, but hating men like Dean and Honeycutt made her powerful. She felt safe behind that wall, not vulnerable as Josh had been tonight. His bruises proved her point.

  “I see.” His tone turned brusque, like the sweep of a broom, and he sat back on the chair. “I came tonight for two reasons.”

  The first had been to tell her about Dean. “What’s the second?”

  “I’m leaving Denver.”

  She gasped. “You’re what?”

  “I’m going back to Boston.”

  “But why?”

  “I think you know.” He gripped her hands in both of his. “I love you, Adie. I think you care for me, too.”

  “I do. I love you.”

  The moment called for a kiss, a claiming of forever. Instead his expression turned bleak. “I can’t marry you, Adie. We’d both suffer. You’d dread Sundays and church socials, even knocks on the door. You’d start to hate me. I can’t ask you to share that life, and I can’t give it up without hating myself.”

  He kissed her hands, then let her go. “I’m not strong enough to fight what feels so right. I have to leave. The sooner, the better.”

  She couldn’t bear the thought. “But you’re hurt!”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “But Boston’s so far.”

  “It’s settled,” Josh said. “I’m leaving Monday.”

  He’d be alone on the train. What if his ribs were broken and not just bruised? What if his ulcer flared up? Adie couldn’t stand the thought.

  He pushed to his feet. “I told Horace I’d be at Brick’s on Sunday. I’d appreciate it if you’d tell everyone here.”

  His eyes held hers; then he kissed her lips, a tender brush, another, and finally a parting that felt like skin being ripped from her own body. He touched her hair one last time, looked into her eyes and stepped back. “If you need anything, see Elliot.”

  She didn’t want to see Elliot. She wanted to marry Josh, except he was right. They couldn’t walk the same path unless they served the same God.

  His voice stayed strong. “I’ll write to you.” He kissed her one last time, then walked out the door.

  Adie collapsed on a chair and wept. She couldn’t bear to see Josh go, but he’d been right to leave. She loved him enough to marry him in spite of her wayward soul, but he wouldn’t compromise. He wanted her heart, all of it. Silently she raged at the Almighty for leaving her adrift. Why couldn’t she let go of her bitterness? Pearl had been as wounded as Adie, even more so, but she didn’t hate anyone. Mary had shrugged off the chip on her shoulder. Caroline and Bessie would never forget the havoc of war, but neither did they dwell on what they’d lost.

  “What’s wrong with me?” Adie said out loud.

  Where could she go for answers? Darkness and l
ight were alike to God but not to Adie. She was lost and alone in the dark. Where was God now? With her heart pounding, she wept until she felt hollow. As the tears cleared, she yearned to be filled with love. She thought of Josh and flashed to the journal she’d left on the divan. Desperate to feel close to him, she went to the parlor, turned up the lamp and opened the book to Emily’s final entry, the one she’d refused to hear when Josh read it for himself.

  The words were as hateful as she’d feared. He became a murderer…a lion about to eat me. Adie blinked and saw Josh’s agony as he’d taken in the depth of Emily’s feelings. Each lash of his sister’s pen had marked him.

  The words had once been true but not anymore. If Emily had tried to forgive him—if she’d just written home—she’d have discovered that Josh had changed. He would have moved heaven and earth for her. She and Dennis could have married. When the baby came, she would have had the finest doctors and she might have lived. If she hadn’t been so bitter, she—

  Adie caught her breath. How many times had she and Maggie commiserated over life’s unfairness? They’d called themselves two peas in a pod. Yet tonight, reading the journal, Adie felt nothing but pity for her friend. Emily had died throwing stones at her own brother, a man who’d given up everything to search for her.

  Looking at Emily’s final scrawl, Adie knew she’d been making a similar mistake. She didn’t know if Reverend Honeycutt had changed or if Timothy Long had been punished, but it didn’t matter. Her bitterness served no purpose except to poison her own heart. In the end, these men would have to answer to God. That was enough. So was Franklin Dean’s demise.

  In the deepest part of her heart, Adie felt free. Just as Josh had forgiven her for hiding Stephen’s identity, she could forgive the people who’d hurt her. Having been forgiven, she could forgive. She closed the journal and bowed her head. Joy welled in her chest and made her fingers tingle. She felt as spotless as snow…as light as fluffy biscuits and goose feathers and rose petals fluttering to the ground. She didn’t have to walk around with rocks in her pocket a minute longer.

  Speaking out loud, she forgave her father for loving gold more than he loved her. She forgave her mother for dying and Timothy Long for harming her. Next she prayed for the Honeycutts. They’d failed her, but they’d done their best. She even forgave Franklin Dean, a prayer that came easily because justice had been served. God hadn’t moved swiftly, but He’d been thorough.

  Last of all, she forgave herself. She’d wasted years of her life being bitter. Even worse, she’d almost lost Josh. She stood and looked out the window. Dawn was on the horizon. She wanted to run to the parsonage and tell him her news, but a thought came that made her smile. It turned into a plan that filled her with joy.

  News of Dean’s death spread through Denver like fire. On Friday, the six remaining elders came to Josh as a group. They asked him to reconsider his decision, but he’d made up his mind. No charges were filed against Horace. The driver hadn’t shared the details with Josh, but he’d visited Adie and had made amends. When Horace said he planned to leave Denver, Josh gave the man his horse and saddle. On Saturday he purchased a train ticket for Boston and left word at Brick’s that he’d be preaching one last Sunday.

  Josh didn’t trust himself to see Adie again, so he spent Saturday writing letters to Bessie, Mary, Caroline and Pearl. He figured at least one of them, probably Mary, would come to the service. He’d ask her to deliver the letters, then he’d pack his things. The train left early Monday and he’d be on it.

  Sunday dawned like any other day. Josh put on his collar and coat, picked up his Bible and walked to Brick’s Saloon. His ribs throbbed with every step, but he didn’t want to stay in Denver while he recovered. Every step away from Swan’s Nest took all the discipline he could muster.

  As he neared the saloon, he looked for horses tied to the hitching post. He didn’t see a single one. He passed the window and saw empty chairs. When he tried the door, it was locked. He’d been looking forward to seeing Gretchen and the cowboys. Horace had planned to tell his story, and Josh had wanted a final word with Brick. He didn’t know the newer folks as well, but he’d hoped to leave with fond memories. Instead he felt lonelier than he’d ever been.

  He also had no way to deliver his letters. He thought about dropping them at the post office, but he didn’t have stamps and couldn’t buy them on Sunday. Seeing Adie would rip his heart from his chest, but he couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to the women who’d stuck by him through everything. As he headed for Seventeenth Street, he recalled holding Stephen and making baby talk. He thought about suppers, kitchen sounds and the laughter of women. As he passed the piles of rock from the demolished mansion, he felt a weight in his chest and wondered if it would ever go away.

  When Swan’s Nest came into view, he looked up at Adie’s window. He listened for Stephen calling for his mother but heard nothing. The house usually felt alive as he approached. Today it looked abandoned. Confused, he climbed the porch steps, where he saw a note tacked to the front door. Stepping closer, he saw the words “Come to the garden” written in Adie’s hand.

  Why would she want to meet him among the roses? Anxious but hopeful, he walked down the steps and passed the plot of vegetables. As he rounded the corner, he glimpsed Adie in her green dress, scurrying away from him. Josh picked up his pace.

  As he neared the hedge, he heard a ragtag choir singing his favorite hymn, the one he’d picked that first Sunday at Brick’s. He took a dozen more steps and saw a crowd. Brick greeted him with a crooked smile. Next to the barkeep stood Gretchen, the cowboys and Horace. Bessie, holding Stephen, stood between Mary and Caroline. On the other side of the path, he saw Tobias and Pearl. She had her baby in her arms and was beaming. Beau Morgan, wearing his leather vest and a string tie, stood off to the side. Josh didn’t know the rest of the people by name, but he recognized faces from Colfax Avenue Church, including Halston Smythe.

  A church had formed.

  His church…As he searched the crowd, Adie came to stand at his side. Before he could speak, she pressed something cold and hard into his palm. He looked down and saw a rock, gray in color and smooth from years of wind and rain.

  She folded his fingers over the stone, then looked into his eyes. “I’m done throwing rocks.”

  Josh had never heard more beautiful words. “What happened?”

  She looked sheepish. “After you left, I read Emily’s journal. She could have been happy. All she had to do was forgive you.” She plucked the stone from his palm and let it fall to the ground. It landed with a thump.

  With her hands open and empty, she looked into his eyes. “I have nothing to offer but my heart. I have a temper and I get angry. I say things I regret. I—”

  “I love you just as you are.” He gripped her hands and raised them to the level of his heart. “Will you marry me?”

  “Yes!” Joy shone in her eyes. “Right now?”

  He laughed out loud. “Nope.”

  “But—”

  He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “We were standing on this very spot when I promised to sweep you off your feet.”

  “I remember.”

  “That’s what I intend to do.”

  Josh had a good reason for not marrying Adie today. He didn’t think she’d change her mind and he knew he wouldn’t change his. His motives were far less dramatic. He simply wanted the fun of courting her. He wanted to bring her flowers, call her “sweetheart,” buy her supper, and enjoy long walks. In the next few months, they’d share laughter and tears. They’d quarrel and make up. When their wedding day came, Adie would be wearing a beautiful dress and carrying a huge bouquet.

  With God and the world watching, Josh plucked a red rose from the hedge and gave it to her. When she looked up and smiled, he smiled back. It was a sign of all the good things to come.

  Epilogue

  October 1875

  Swan’s Nest

  Josh had been courting Adie for
two months when Pearl announced she’d be leaving for Cheyenne in three days. Adie had enjoyed every starry-eyed minute, but she had no desire to wait until June to marry as they’d planned. She didn’t need roses and a fancy dress for a wedding, but she very much needed her friends.

  As soon as she heard Pearl’s news, she walked to the house Josh had been renting and knocked on the door. He greeted her with a lazy smile. “Good morning, beautiful.”

  Adie blushed but refused to be distracted. “Pearl’s leaving. I want to get married tonight.”

  His eyes popped wide. “But your dress—”

  “I’ll wear the green one.”

  “Flowers—”

  “I don’t need them.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive.”

  With that, he swept her into his arms. “What time? I’ll see to everything.”

  They agreed on seven o’clock, and Adie ran down the street to the café. Mary threw down her apron and hurried with her to Doc Nichols’s office, where they found Bessie. They fetched Caroline from the dress shop and raced to Swan’s Nest.

  “In the parlor,” she replied.

  And so the preparations began. Food arrived from people at church. Brick delivered a wedding cake. The owner of the local dress shop brought four white gowns, veils, gloves and a note from Josh telling her to pick whatever she wanted. When the clock in the hallway struck seven, Swan’s Nest was full of guests and Adie was wearing white, standing in the second parlor with Bessie, Caroline and Pearl. Mary would be singing Adie’s bridal march, so she was in the parlor with Reverend Oliver.

  Adie had never felt more beautiful in her life. She’d chosen a dress made of satin with a scooped neckline. The high collar and tight sleeves made her feel like a real swan, and the satin rosettes holding the draped skirt reminded her of the flowers in her garden. To set off the simplicity of the dress, she’d chosen a waist-length veil made of the sheerest tulle. It covered her eyes, but she’d be able to see every detail—the candles on the hearth, the asters and greenery lining the aisle made from borrowed chairs.