Beauty From Ashes

by Lynnette Bonner

  “How much does he owe?”

  Adelle sighed and rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ve been making him keep caught up on paying. But he’s out of money now.”

  John considered. He tapped the bar and watched the kid for a few more minutes. He was mumbling unintelligible phrases into the top of his shot glass.

  Satisfaction worked through John. This was exactly what he needed. He bumped Adelle with his shoulder. “Let him have three more without paying.”

  Adelle gave him a pointed, searching look. “He’ll be passed out by then.”

  John grinned. “Yes.” And by this time tomorrow, he’d have the kid firmly by the scruff of the neck.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Liora leaned over the table and peered past Tess’s shoulder.

  The girl’s fingers moved painstakingly slow as she traced out a perfect letter “A,” her tongue caught between her teeth.

  Liora couldn’t hold back a huge smile. She patted Tess on the back. “Perfect! That’s the best one you’ve done yet. And see here it is, right in the fifteenth chapter of the book of First Corinthians that we read in our morning devotions. ‘Adam.’”

  “A-d-a-m.” Tess drew her finger carefully over each letter as she pronounced the sounds.

  “Yes! You’ll be reading like a teacher in no time.”

  “What that all mean about the first Adam and the second Adam?”

  “Well the first Adam was the one created by God at the beginning of all time in the Garden of Eden. We are all like him because we are human, made in the image of God. The second Adam, is Jesus. We can all choose to be like Him and be reborn spiritually. We simply need to believe He died for our sins, that He was the sacrifice who saves us all. Just as God gave that first Adam physical life in the garden, so He can give all of us a new life, spiritually.”

  Tess pondered for a moment. “I like that. My daddy, he used to say that verse. Her finger touched down on the page. “‘We are sewn perishable, but raised imperishable.’ I never understood. But I think I do now. He meant these first bodies is like Adam. They gonna die and be no more, but when we trust Jesus, He gives us new bodies, like them seeds this chapter talk about that get new bodies when they go into the ground and die.”

  Liora smiled. “That’s exactly right.”

  Tess took a breath. “I’m glad Jesus chose to do that for us. Them other whores back there workin’ for Mr. Hunt? If I could sacrifice somethin’ to give them a chance to have a better life, I would want to do that too. Like you done for me.” Her gaze lifted to Liora’s. “Thanks ever so much.”

  Liora squeezed Tess’s shoulder. “You’re welcome. And maybe you’ll get the chance sooner than you think. After this hubbub with John Hunt dies down, I plan to go back. You can come with me. We’ll save women from that life, together.”

  Tess lifted pain-filled eyes to Liora. “You think Jesus can forgive me for the way I’ve lived? I didn’t want to live that way, mind you,” she hurried to say. “I jus’ didn’t feel like I had no choice. But maybe I coulda fought harder, resisted more.”

  Liora bent down until she was on eye level with Tess. “Jesus can forgive anything. All you have to do is ask Him.”

  A large smile touched Tess’s lips. “I’ll do that.”

  Liora gave her a nod, and stood just as a knock sounded on the front door of the cabin.

  Liora reached for the ties of her apron and glanced at the clock with a frown. Who could that be at this hour of the afternoon? Joe was out working near the lean-to so whoever it was, he must have directed them to the house to speak to her.

  When she swung the door open, she was surprised to see Parson Clay standing on the porch, hat in hand.

  “Parson.” She stepped back and motioned him in. “What a pleasant surprise.” She gestured toward the secondhand settee in the corner. “If you’ll have a seat, I’ll fetch you some coffee?”

  He motioned for her to wait and then spun his hat through his fingers. “Please. There’s no need. I’m making rounds and if the truth be told, I’ve had more coffee in the past few hours than a man should have in a month of Sundays.”

  Liora chuckled. “Very well. How may I help you?”

  She was surprised when he suddenly looked uneasy. He studied and fiddled with the brim of his hat for a moment before lifting his eyes to hers once more. “If I’m honest, I feel that I owe you an apology before getting to the other reason that I’m here.”

  Liora frowned. “An apology? Whatever for? Please, shall we sit?”

  “Yes. Thank you.” The man lifted a gesture of greeting toward Tess as they stepped farther into the room.

  Tess nodded, but quickly ducked her head back to her studies.

  When they were seated next to each other on the settee, the parson settled his hat on the side table and then looked over at her. “My apology is for not seeing that it was some of the women in the church who’ve been making you so uncomfortable that you didn’t want to come into the service.”

  Liora felt her face blanch. How had he heard that? She hadn’t wanted to get anyone in trouble.

  He held up a reassuring hand. “Joe came by to see me. He was very discrete, but open enough to let me know what you’ve been going through.”

  Joe. Yes, of course Joe. Liora smoothed her skirts. “In many ways, I feel like the treatment is somewhat deserved. The consequences of a life of sin, you might say.”

  From her peripheral vision, she could see him shaking his head. “No. Being mistreated by fellow believers is never deserved. You’ve repented and turned from your sin. Sometimes, yes, there are natural consequences. However, mistreatment by fellow believers should not be one of them. And I apologize for not having seen it sooner. I plan to speak to Mrs….well, to some of the ladies.”

  Liora felt even worse on hearing that. “That’s really not necessary, Parson. I have no desire to befoul anyone’s good name.”

  “It is my duty to shepherd the whole flock, Miss Fontaine. Therefore, it is my duty to gently bring correction where I notice it necessary. And in this case, I believe there is a call for it. Please don’t distress yourself. If the Holy Spirit is indeed at work in our lives, we should all be happy to learn and grow and become more like Christ.” He gave a dismissive wave of his hand as though to say he was done with this part of the conversation. “Now let me move on to the other reason I’m here. As you may have heard, Dixie would like to have a wedding party for Charlotte and Reagan. It will be held at the church on Saturday and Dixie noticed she hadn’t heard from you. She asked me to see if you’d be willing to bring a dish and a dessert.”

  Liora swallowed. “I’d be happy to.”

  “Wonderful. Thank you. And with that, I’ll bid you good day, Miss Fontaine. I still have several stops to make before getting home and I left the new boy at the house writing a test Charlotte wanted him to take to determine where best to place him in school.”

  Despite her quick assurance that she’d be happy to help, Liora’s heart squeezed into a painful rhythm as she bade the parson farewell and watched him ride away.

  So much for all her efforts to keep out of Dixie’s line of sight on Sunday.

  She straightened her shoulders. This would be good for her. She simply needed to disregard Mrs. Hines and her cronies. She would make a pork roast and a berry pie.

  But it didn’t have to be done right now. What she did need to do was have a talk with one Joseph Rodante. She could already feel her pulse climbing in aggravated anticipation.

  “Tess, I’ll be right back.” She hoisted her skirts and set out at a smart clip toward the lean-to. The closer she got, the more pressure she could feel building up inside of her until she fairly exploded upon reaching him. “Joseph Rodante! What in the world do you think you are doing?”

  Ax in hand, Joe spun from the log he’d been stripping of bark. His eyes were wide and she could see him searching his memory for what he might have done to upset her. “Ah…” He scrubbed his wrist over his chin, then
gestured to the log laying atop the sawhorses. “Stripping some logs so we can use them for the barn walls.”

  Liora trembled. “Mine!”

  Joe looked confused.

  She flipped a gesture to the tiny three-sided shed. “My lean-to.” Another gesture encompassed the area he’d been clearing for a barn. “My barn.” A sweep of her hand took in the house. “My house.” She slammed fingertips to her chest. “My life! And I don’t need you meddling in it!” It suddenly hit her how petty she sounded when he’d only been trying to help. That feeling was driven home by the hurt look that crossed his features. She took a breath and ended lamely. “No matter how good your intentions might be in doing so.”

  “I see.” Joe presented her with his back, sank the ax deep into the log, and then turned to face her once more. Thumbs hooked in his belt loops, he studied her, letting his gaze drill deep into her own. She saw anger flash for the briefest of moments. She knew it was anger because she so rarely saw it in Joe.

  She swallowed and took a step back, waiting for him to lash out with as much venom as she’d just used.

  But then his emotions shifted. His features softened. And he took a step toward her.

  She swallowed. What was that look all about?

  His expression seemed warm and easy. His mouth set, but not in anger. His head tilted ever so slightly. And those gentle dark eyes… They made her feel things deep inside that she’d never felt before.

  He took another step toward her, little crinkles appearing at the corners of his mouth.

  She backed up a step, heart thudding with some sort of crazy unfamiliar emotion. Certainly not fear. She was all too familiar with that. No. This was something almost entirely opposite.

  He continued his advance. His voice was ever so soft when he spoke. “You are so used to people rejecting you that you can’t even fathom someone standing up for you, can you?”

  “I didn’t need you getting Mrs. Hines in trouble on my behalf.” Her voice was gravelly and she cleared her throat as she matched his steps, withdrawing once for every advance he took.

  “We all need someone else to stand up for us once in a while, Liora. I didn’t do it because I felt you were weak.”

  His approach was steady and his strides longer. She was now backed up against the porch rail with no more room to retreat.

  “Nor was I trying to get Mrs. Hines in trouble. I was standing up for the woman I love.”

  Something closed off her throat. She opened her mouth to tell him once more that he simply couldn’t love her, but no sound would emerge. He was close. So close she could see that tiny scar again, and her fingers itched to trace it. Everything in her screamed, too close, while at the same time waiting in anticipation for him to come nearer. Why had she gone off half-cocked and yelled at him?

  He hesitated, studying her. And she couldn’t deny her relief. He wasn’t going to come closer. Wasn’t going to touch her.

  But then he said, “I’m not going to hurt you, Liora, but you’ll remember that you asked me not to give up on you, yes?” A bit of a roguish curve touched his lips as he slowly stepped forward.

  Liora’s mouth went dry and she felt a tingle of fire race along the back of her neck.

  He closed the distance between them until she could feel the warmth of him invading her space. He propped both hands on the rail on either side of her, settling his weight there.

  She could no longer handle looking into such depth of emotion. She closed her eyes. The disconnection brought immediate relief. But she could still feel him near. Still sense him studying her in that steady methodical way of his. Still smell the appealing scent of leather and evergreen that always seemed to accompany him.

  The scent lured her forward. Her cheek brushed against the rough stubble of his. Her heart pounded, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to retreat.

  He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Simply let her linger near.

  After a long moment, she relaxed. Leaned further forward until his shoulder cradled her forehead.

  She heard him swallow. Felt the gentle brush of his hand against her back.

  “Joe?”

  “Yeah?” She felt the warmth of the word against her neck.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

  He loosed a soft laugh. “I’ll think on forgiving you.”

  She straightened, giving his chest a mock slap.

  He chuckled and trapped her hand against the beat of his heart, letting his thumb caress over her knuckles. He regarded her with gentle humor. “You can get mad at me anytime, so long as it ends up with you in my arms.”

  Heat burgeoned in her cheeks. She looked down. Studying the broad expanse of his sun-browned hand that still held hers captive.

  He remained where he was for so long, she peered back up at him to see what he was doing.

  His gaze was fixed directly on her and his mouth tilted up in a lazy smile. “You are some beautiful of a woman, Liora. Some beautiful. But that’s not why I love you. It’s your kind heart and gentle spirit. It’s because even when you are mistreated you do not choose to respond in kind. It’s because even though you understood the danger, you still chose to rescue Tess, and will probably do the same for other girls. You’ve been my friend and confidante. And my feelings for you grew so slowly that even I was surprised to discover them the other day.” His gaze roved from her hair, to her cheeks, to her lips where it hesitated for the briefest of moments before rebounding to her eyes. “I hope that when you examine your heart, you’ll find that those same feelings have grown in you. And one of these days you are going to accept God’s trade of beauty for ashes. When that time comes, you’ll figure out a way to let me know, and then we are going to have a wonderful life together.” And with that, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze and then strode back to his work across the yard.

  Weak-kneed, Liora fumbled her way up the porch steps and pushed into the house.

  It would probably be best simply to let Joe stand up for her from now on.

  Besides, he was right. She somewhat liked it.

  Who was she kidding?

  More than somewhat.

  She felt like her heart had been frozen for a very long time and Joe had just kindled a fire at its center.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  A vice pressed hard against Kin’s skull. Pounding pain made any movement torture. Someone groaned, and then he realized the sound had come from him. His mouth felt like it had been stuffed full of cotton all night long, and where was the outhouse? He needed it now. Even if it was right outside it was too far away. He squinted around the room. Where was the door? Someone pushed through the tent-flap entrance, sending a shaft of agonizing light straight through his eyes.

  He stumbled forward, one hand raised to block the blinding rays.

  Someone loomed before him. “Whoa, kid. You never paid your bill last night.”

  Kin assessed the man through the slit of one eye. The bartender. “I’ll be right back.” He made to go around the man.

  But the bartender sidestepped to block his path. “You’ll pay me now.”

  Irritation surged, but sharp on its heels a faint warning bell clanged. There was something he should realize, but he couldn’t think for the need to get outside. “Look, mister. If you don’t let me get to the necessary, you’re going to have more to worry about than the fact that I haven’t paid yet.”

  The bartender huffed a breath and stepped to one side, but not before waving another man over to follow him.

  Kin didn’t care if he had the whole town following him at this point.

  Thankfully, one of the camp outhouses was just next to the saloon and was at the moment unoccupied. When he emerged, feeling much relieved, he almost barreled into the man who’d tailed him. And that was when realization hit him.

  He didn’t have any more money. The agony in his head pulsed like a couple of ax-wielding lumberjacks in a competition.

  A sick feeling dropped into the pit of his st
omach. How many more drinks had he consumed the night before? He remembered paying for the first two. After that, everything was a bit of a blur.

  “You’ll need to come with me.” The man gave him a hard look.

  Nausea swept through him in a consuming wave. But he knew there was no escape. He nodded for the man to lead the way. What was he going to say? What could he say? He had nothing. What would they do to him?

  He could tell by the look in the bartender’s eyes that he knew he didn’t have the money.

  Kin kicked at the dirt floor inside the tent. “What do I owe?”

  “Thirty dollars.”

  Shock washed through him. “What?” There was no way he’d drunk that much!

  The bartender shrugged an uncaring gesture. “You bought two rounds for the entire house. Since you’d been paying all along right up to that point, I figured you were good for it.”

  Thirty dollars. Kin sank back against a barstool and scrubbed one hand over his face. He searched the interior of the room. At the back corner, a drunk still slept on one of the tables. A few of the chairs were overturned throughout the room. Other than that, no one would believe how full the place had been the evening before.

  The bartender eyed him over the glass he was polishing. “You’re free to go, soon as you’ve paid up.”

  Kin shifted. It was probably time to fess up. “The thing is… I don’t have it. Not even a penny of it.”

  The bartender wagged his head. “That’s a bad spot to be in, kid. Mr. Hunt don’t take kindly to folks what can’t pay.” He glanced toward the tent entrance and Kin heard the sound of scrambling feet behind him. Light from the opening of the tent flap momentarily cast a triangle on the floor, and then disappeared again.

  Kin swallowed. Someone had just left the tent. Likely going to fetch Mr. Hunt. This was not going to be pretty. How did he get himself into these situations?

  It was only a moment before Mr. Hunt stepped in, followed by the man who’d gone to fetch him.