Mission of Hope

by Allie Pleiter

  “Oh, my dear, there is always cause for hope. Hope can accomplish the most amazing things.” The reverend turned to look at her for the first time in their journey, and the knowledge in his eyes sparkled deep in her chest. “Yes,” he said, at what must have been her desperate expression. “I am on your side, Nora. And his.”

  She wanted to wrap her arms around his shoulders and plant an affectionate kiss on his round cheek. “Reverend,” she said, gazing into his amused eyes, “what are we to do?”

  “Beyond prayer?”

  “Yes, Reverend. Beyond prayer. I have prayed until my soul hurts and still feel like a storm surrounds me at every turn. It feels as if everything is against us. So if you have encouragement for me, I’d very much like to hear it.”

  “You have great reason to be encouraged, my dear. You have the heart of a relentless man of astounding character. Quinn will find a way. He found a way for you to meet today and will continue to vault over every hurdle between you, if I know him.” A twinkle lit the old man’s eye. “He simply can’t bear to be separated from you, and as you know, your Quinn is not the most patient of men.” He leaned in. “But you must take care, too. You will not be able to hide this for long, and I fear your own challenges once your family finds out. Society has some walls even an earthquake can’t tear down.”

  Your Quinn. No, she wouldn’t be able to hide this for long. His name hummed in her chest, and her hands tightened around the bouquet she seemed unable to put down since this morning. “He did arrange this, didn’t he?”

  “Of course he did.” The old man laughed as if it were obvious. “And he tried mightily to convince me to fetch you yesterday—and the day before that. I was hard-pressed to get him to see reason and be patient. Even so, he has been at Grace House since sunrise, and I fear he won’t last the day if we tarry much longer.” His face grew more serious. “I’ll be honest, my dear. I fear the strength of his affections may drive him to act unwisely. The two of you face so many challenges.” He directed the cart around a corner, clucking his tongue as if he’d been negotiating rubble-filled street all his life. She wondered if it was age or faith that enabled him to face all that chaos with such calm. “Major Simon, among other things.”

  “Major Simon,” Nora repeated, trying not to let her heart sink. “You know about him?”

  “Albert Simon is an ambitious man. When he knows what he wants, he gathers every ally he can find to get it. Yes, he has asked me to speak to your father on his behalf. He is most taken with you. And I don’t have to tell you Quinn is most disturbed by the rival.” He leveled his dark brown eyes at Nora. “Should he be?”

  She supposed a more sensible woman would have considered the situation carefully. As it was, “Not at all,” came gushing out of her as if she were a schoolgirl. She felt her cheeks redden and cast her gaze down into the now-wilting flowers. She should have pressed them, but she couldn’t bear not to have them near.

  “Tell him so. You have much to say to each other.” He winked. “But I believe he needs to hear that most of all.”

  Nora leaned over and gave Reverend Bauers a kiss on his cheek. “You are a dear, dear man, Reverend.”

  “Nonsense,” he said, his smile warm and broad. “I am an idiot who doesn’t know when to stop tilting at windmills. It is a good thing God suffers fools gladly, don’t you think?”

  “You are no fool,” she said, wanting to get out of the cart and run the last few blocks while at the same time needing a host of hours to calm her nerves. “You are a very wise man.”

  “Remember that when we are all knee-deep in trouble.”

  Quinn looked at his reflection in the small, round mirror above the fireplace in Reverend Bauers’s study. He wished mightily for a better shirt, for an unmended pair of pants. He looked at his bruised fingers, the ones that flexed so easily around the Bandit’s sword, and willed himself to have Matthew Covington’s elegance. That man was dashing and well-spoken. He? He felt like a joke of God’s purpose, a fluke born of disaster and circumstance. More than anything at this moment, he wanted to feel worthy of Nora Longstreet.

  It was, as Reverend Bauers was fond of saying, a God-sized wish. He heard the cart coming up the alley, and shut his eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath to slow down the cannon fire going off in his chest. He could have been sixteen instead of twenty-six the way his pulse was thundering. He was going to see Nora, alone. Not glancing over his shoulder or hers, but saying freely the things that had hung in the air unsaid between them. How he felt.

  Hearing her say—and, mercy, he didn’t know what he would do if he didn’t hear her say—that she felt the same way about him.

  The creak of the back kitchen door sounded her arrival, and Quinn dashed to the kitchen. She was looking down as she stepped through the door, her hat hiding her face, but when she met his eyes, a glow flooded his chest and banished every hint of worry. He understood now why men conquered the world for love. He remembered thinking Matthew Covington had gone mad when he watched that heroic man go completely foolish around Georgia Waterhouse. Back then, at his tender years, he’d thought Covington a fool. He didn’t think so now. Had she asked him, in that moment, to lasso the moon, he would have said yes without thought or doubt.

  “And hello to you, too, Quinn,” the reverend said, having a grand time with Quinn’s current speechless state. “Glory, it is worse than I thought. Why don’t we all sit a moment and have a cup of tea. I’m sure cook has made some, and if not, I do remember how myself.”

  “I’m not thirsty,” Quinn said, not taking his eyes off Nora.

  “Perhaps Miss Longstreet…”

  “Not at all, Reverend.” After a dumbstruck second, she blinked and added, “Thank you.”

  Her eyes said everything he needed to know. He longed to sweep her into his arms that very second and defy the world to ever part them again.

  Reverend Bauers stepped into his sight, mock sternness on his amused face. “I was thinking about how very nice it would be for Miss Longstreet to see the volume of Shakespeare sonnets Mr. Covington sent over earlier this year. The binding is exquisite.” Quinn stared for a blank second. Reverend Bauers’s foot gently tapped Quinn’s boot. “Get out of the kitchen before you make a fool of yourself, man,” he said in low tones. Raising a conspiratorial eyebrow, he returned his voice to a more public volume. “I simply haven’t the time to show it to her properly. Do you think you could manage?”

  “I’m sure I could, Reverend.” With a grin he had no hopes of hiding, Quinn extended an elbow to Nora. “Reverend Bauers’s study is just down the hall.” As he turned to leave the kitchen, feeling the rush of having Nora’s arm on his elbow, he caught sight of Reverend Bauers holding up ten fingers and mouthing the words “ten minutes.”

  Not likely. There’d be no rushing this moment, not for all the danger in California. Quinn forced his feet to move through the hallway at a casual pace, as if he were about to show Nora Longstreet the most mundane object in all the world.

  Instead of showing her his heart.

  Nora had thousands of thoughts tumbling through her head, feeling half her age and almost weightless as they walked down the hall. “You’re hurt,” she remarked, noticing new bandages on his left hand, just as the right hand’s wounds were healing. “How hard you must work to always be nursing wounds.”

  Quinn opened the study door. “Many are hurt worse.”

  After a quick glance up and down the hallway, Quinn closed the study door behind them. It wasn’t as if Nora hadn’t been unchaperoned with a man before—she’d been ostensibly alone with Major Simon just days before—but Nora’s heart was pounding so hard she fought against the urge to put her hand to her chest.

  Her chest, where her locket lay. The locket housing the tiny buds Quinn had given her. Her hand found its way to the locket anyway, and she felt Quinn’s eyes on her hand. On his gift. “Where is this book?” she managed to choke out.

  Quinn’s eyes glowed. “There is no book.”<
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  “So, I’ve been tricked?”

  “I hope not.” He looked at her, a long, unguarded gaze that sent her pulse skipping. “Have I?”

  “I don’t think so.” Surely, the air had been cooler in the kitchen. “Those flowers, they were…”

  “…From me,” he finished for her, taking one step toward her. She’d known it all along, of course, but it felt so different to hear him claim them out loud. “I knew you’d recognize them.” He took another step toward her. “I’m done hiding it, Nora. I don’t want to talk around it or pretend it’s not there or pretend I don’t think about you all the time or want to show you every pretty thing I come across. There’s so much awfulness around right now not to…” He flushed, as if he hadn’t meant to be so forward.

  Nora felt for the chair back behind her, suddenly needing something solid to hold on to. “Not to what?” She wasn’t even sure she’d managed to say it out loud. His straw-colored hair refused to stay the way he’d combed it. He was standing close enough to her that she could smell the soap he’d used.

  “Not to grab at the one thing, the one amazing thing that’s come out of it.” His face broke into that deep-down confident smile of his, a “count on it” quality that made her believe they could do anything if they were together. “It is amazing, isn’t it?”

  For a second, propriety made her consider denying it, but it would be useless. Even if she told him there was nothing between them, Nora was sure her eyes and her very breathlessness would give her away. “Surprising.”

  “Don’t you think there’s something planned here? I found your locket, I found you, all the ways you’ve helped?” He paused slightly before adding, “All the ways you’ve cared?”

  He was right. It was as if forces had been pulling them together since that horrible morning. As if God had handed her some glimpse of dawn after so much darkness. Now, looking at the blaze in his eyes, it seemed completely useless to fight against it for a moment longer. And she didn’t want to fight it. She wanted to be with him, to spend time with him, to share in the things he did and the thoughts he had. A determination—a defiance, even—sprung up where all the denial had been. “Yes,” she said, a surprising strength in her voice. “Yes, Quinn, I’m sure I…”

  She was going to finish that thought. Just as soon as she remembered what it was. At the moment, the look in Quinn’s eyes sent every shred of logic packing. His smile broadened. He closed the distance between them and put his hand to her cheek. His hand was warm and rough and exquisitely gentle. Nora thought the room would dissolve away to nothing around her, felt as if the floor would give way and the walls would fall over. She closed her eyes for a moment, hoping to memorize every detail of his touch, sure this stolen moment would be the only one they had. Life was too sensible to allow something like this to endure. This was fantasy and folly and…and she’d fight to keep it with everything in her power. “I’m sure,” she said again, whispering it this time as she opened her eyes to see him gazing at her. She brought her hand up to rest atop his, desperate to hold on to him as he touched her face.

  One thumb traced a slow arc across her cheek. “I don’t know how, yet.” His voice held the same determination that drummed in her heart.

  “There has to be a way.”

  “I’ll find it. After all, I found you, didn’t I?” He looked at her with wonder, as if the thought just struck him anew. “In all the city, I found you. After all this, I found you.”

  Nora let her head fall against his strong hand. “Find us a way, Quinn.”

  It was as if the topaz in his eyes ignited, as if she’d unleashed something fierce and powerful in him. He took both her hands in his and kissed them gallantly. “There’s not a thing can stop me now.”

  She had to laugh at his exuberance. “What about Reverend Bauers and his ten minutes?” She held up her fingers the way the reverend had.

  He laughed as well. “Never you mind that.” He pulled her a bit closer. “Say my name one more time. Say it.” He looked like he would spin them around the room any moment.

  “Quinn, be careful.”

  “Not at all. I’m done being careful. Can’t you see that?”

  His defiance lit fire to hers. She brought both his hands to her lips and kissed them tenderly. He began to pull her closer. Neither one of them heard the knock on the door until it opened and Reverend Bauers cleared his throat with mock alarm.

  “Good Heavens, I see I’ve come just in time.”

  Quinn scowled. “Go away.”

  “I think not.”

  Quinn’s eyes closed. “Go away, Reverend, sir.”

  Nora felt flustered. “Reverend,” she interjected, squeezing Quinn’s hands, “You’ve been so kind to us. How can I thank you?”

  “By taking this fine thing God has given you and being wise. Keep our friend here from crossing the line from brave to foolish. I’m afraid I haven’t had much success in that department.”

  Surrendering to the interruption, Quinn reached out and clasped the old man’s shoulders. “You’ve got too much of the fool in you yourself, old man. And I’m glad of it, I am.” His gaze wandered back to Nora, as if he couldn’t take his eyes off her for more than a second or two. “And grateful.”

  “And one or two other things I won’t go into, I’m sure,” Bauers said. “But time’s not on our side. Part ways, you two, before anyone’s the wiser or I’ll live to regret this more than I do.”

  Quinn’s eyes conveyed a million things, even if he only returned his hat to his head and said, “Soon.” She found his smile the most remarkable sight; the glow of it seemed to settle beneath her ribs and warm her from the inside.

  “Soon,” she almost whispered. Even a second earthquake wouldn’t prevent them from being together again.

  Reverend Bauers folded his hands together across his stomach after Quinn left. “He’s a most remarkable young man, but I gather I’ve no need to convince you of that.”

  “No, Reverend.” She sighed. “I’m quite convinced.”

  The clergyman’s voice fell to an oddly serious tone. “He faces more challenges than you know. And I fear things will only get more difficult for him in the coming days. He’ll need to draw strength from you.” He walked toward her, clasping her hands in his. “But I see great strength in you, too, so I think that perhaps God does indeed know what He’s up to.”

  Hadn’t she wondered the same thing?

  Chapter Nineteen

  Quinn lay the list on Major Simon’s desk. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or worried.” People’s faith in the Messenger’s abilities had expanded to some rather challenging requests. Pins and basic medicines were one thing. Some of the items on the posts this week made for tall orders. One man had actually asked for lumber—the largest request yet.

  “Lumber is gold at the moment,” Simon responded. “I can’t get enough to fill my own needs much less extra. Besides, I don’t much like the idea of people building on to their shacks. We can’t have people thinking of Dolores Park as anything but temporary.”

  “Temporary? After three months?”

  Simon gave Quinn a hard look. “You think I don’t know most of these people don’t even have two timbers left of their old homes to nail together? I know I’m not dealing in reality, Freeman. But I’ve got to work as hard as I can to give the right impression.” He looked down for a moment and swore for the first time since Quinn had met him. “The general got a wire from the president yesterday. The whole world is watching.” Major Simon was normally such a cool-headed character; it was more than a bit unnerving to watch him fray around the edges. If the pressure was getting even to him, it must be huge.

  “All right then, no lumber. I don’t know how I’d carry it anyway.” Quinn scooped the bits of paper back up.

  Simon let his head fall into his hands and heaved out a sigh. “Their wants aren’t your fault.” He looked up, attempting a weak smile. “Now look who’s gone off and shot the messenger, hmm? You’ve don
e an amazing job.”

  Again, Quinn was glad for the praise, but just a bit leery of Major Simon, who seemed to think the Midnight Messenger was an army recruit. He’d made a point to call them “partners” earlier in the discussion, but the relationship was feeling more lopsided day by day. Quinn had already decided it was time to seek out a few sources other than the army. Lord, Quinn prayed as he tucked the batch of papers into his pocket and said goodbye to Major Simon, if You can bring water from a stone, and manna from Heaven, a dozen tins of peas should be easy, right?

  Actually, it was. For all the talk of scarcity, Quinn had secured half of what he needed from sources outside the major in the space of two hours. Things could be found with a little clever trading here and there. It took time, connections and creativity. The last two Quinn had always had in abundance. Time, however, was growing as scarce as sleep. By dinner, Quinn only had left the last four items on his list: two Bibles and two revolvers. He’d already decided not to even attempt the revolvers, and he had a pretty good idea where he could manage the pair of Bibles. He needed a safe place—other than Major Simon’s cache or his own shack at the camp—to stash his Messenger “booty” anyway, and the Grace House basement was ideal.

  “Glory!” Reverend Bauers remarked when Quinn came up the basement steps in the full Messenger gear he’d pulled from its hiding place at the army base, suddenly uncomfortable with it staying there. “You look dark and dangerous. I venture even the Bandit would be wary of you with that pistol at your side.”

  “I haven’t used it yet,” Quinn remarked, adjusting the large duffel that was beginning to wear permanent bruises in his shoulder.

  “I pray you never do,” Reverend Bauers said, “but that’s optimistic, I fear.” He handed Quinn the two Bibles he’d requested. “I feel much better knowing you’ve gotten even two requests for God’s word. I know it’s my weapon of choice against all we face these days.” He stopped for a moment, considering Quinn with a wistful look. “‘Blessed are the feet of him who brings good news,’” he quoted.