Scanning the yard, he frowned at the buggy tied up to the corral. She must have visitors. He hoped they weren’t staying for dinner. He had planned to get right down to the questions he had about the locket and key tonight, and he had just the story for the cover, too. He straightened his coat one last time before climbing the front steps and knocking on the door.
Her deputy husband answered the door. The man’s lips smiled, but Simon could see the hesitation in his expression.
He was going to have to be smooth as butter to pull this off.
“Come in, Reverend.” The younger man stepped back and gestured him inside. “I’d like for you to meet our own pastor.”
Another Pastor? Confound it all!
A man about his own age stood from the settee and stretched out his age-spotted hand.
“Parson Cane, this is Pastor Hollybough.” The husband motioned to the other man. “Pastor, Parson Baxter Cane.”
Simon’s collar seemed to tighten as he shook the man’s hand and took in his casual clothing. He wore faded denims and a flannel shirt, rolled up to his elbows. Didn’t parsons always wear their clerical attire? He nodded a greeting.
“It’s a real pleasure to meet you.” Pastor Hollybough’s eyes lit up as they landed on the Bible tucked under his arm. “Ah, you’ve brought the Good Book with you. Excellent! I’ve had a question burning in my mind for several weeks about a passage in Romans, and I’m so looking forward to discussing it with another man of the cloth.”
Simon hoped his eyes hadn’t bulged as much as he felt like they had. There’s a book about Romans in the Bible? Quickly he composed his features. “Certainly. Certainly. It would be my pleasure. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time for theological discussions after dinner.” He congratulated himself on that bit of a save. Somehow, between now and then he would have to come up with an excuse to get out of here as soon as the meal concluded. Maybe tonight wasn’t going to be the best night to get the information he needed from the woman. Blast!
“Oh I’m sure we have a few minutes here before dinner is ready,” Rocky supplied with a too-friendly smile. “Come on in and have a seat, Parson. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just go let Victoria know you’ve arrived.”
Baxter watched the young man walk away, feeling like a convict with a noose around his neck watching his executioner pull on a black hood. Think man! “Ah, you know? If you don’t mind, before we launch into this discussion on the Romans I need to find the water-closet. The walk out here from town… you know.”
“Ah, yes. I understand. I believe their privy is out back.” Pastor Hollybough gestured through the door and around the corner of the house.
“Thank you.” Simon turned and started out.
“Uh? Don’t you want to leave your Bible here?”
He paused and glanced down at the book still tucked under his arm. He smiled sheepishly, pulled it out and set it on the table by the side of the settee. “Of course. I’ve just gotten into such a habit of carrying it with me everywhere since my Millie’s passing that I almost forgot it was there.” He ran a hand over the cover in what he hoped was an affectionate gesture, then looked up at the Reverend. “I’ll be back in a moment.” And with that, he made his escape to the outhouse.
He stayed for as long as he dared without embarrassing himself and slowly worked his way back to the house counting on all the mercies of heaven to save him from having to discuss gladiators and Caesars with that man of the cloth. As he washed his hands in the basin by the door, he’d never been more relieved in his life to hear the call that dinner was ready.
16
Victoria watched the man who claimed to be her father carefully throughout dinner. She had set him at the end of the table with ChristyAnne and Jimmy on either side of him. It was curious that he’d come to dinner in his suit. She wondered if he always wore a suit and where he got the money to do so, if he did. Pastor Hollybough only had one suit and he rationed the wearing of it to Sundays and very special occasions.
Jimmy eyed the man as he passed him the potatoes. “Why do you carry your Bible with you everywhere you go, Parson?”
The man plunked a huge portion of potatoes on his plate and then set the bowl back on the table in front of him without passing it to ChristyAnne. Victoria suppressed a grin at the roll of ChristyAnne’s eyes as she reached for the bowl and took a serving before carefully holding it for Mera.
“Uh, well son, one never knows when the Good Lord is going to give you a revelation. It’s important to have the good book along just in case,” the parson said.
“Oh.” Jimmy seemed willing to accept that explanation but pastor Hollybough spoke up.
“One also never knows when they might have need of the Good Book to minister to hurting souls, young man.”
“Really? Like what kind of hurting souls?”
Pastor Hollybough shrugged, “Maybe someone who has a loved one that’s sick. Or a man who’s working really hard but can’t seem to make ends meet. Lots of people questioning God every day. And all the answers they need are right there in that book, Son.”
“Oh.” Jimmy studied his plate with a thoughtful look on his face.
Victoria tried to ignore the fact that the Parson once again took a large helping of meat and then set the platter on the table, totally ignoring ChristyAnne’s waiting hands. But one glance at Rocky and the way he hacked at the steak on his plate like he needed to kill it before putting it in his mouth, and she knew that she wasn’t the only one who had noticed the man’s selfishness. Even Mrs. Hollybough’s lips pinched into a disapproving frown.
Her hopes that Rocky might be wrong about the man ebbed further and further away and she felt despair welling up inside her. She really did come from vile blood. The man was posing as a minister, for goodness sake!
A fork crashed loudly against a plate and the next thing she knew Rocky took her by the arm and practically lifted her out of her seat.
“I need your help for a minute.” He looked around the table. “If you all will excuse us, we’ll be right back. Children, best behavior, please.” And with that, he pulled her through the kitchen and out the back door.
Pressing her back to the wall of the house he tilted his head down and looked into her face. “Ria, are you alright? You got so pale I thought you were going to pass out.” He patted her cheek.
She let the tears she’d been holding at bay fall. “I really do come from an awful family. He has to be my father. How else would he have known I was adopted?”
“Ah, Kitten.” He cupped her head against his chest and enveloped her with strong arms. “Remember what we talked about this afternoon. First, we don’t know for sure that he’s your real father. He could have found out about the adoption some other way. Second, even if he is, that doesn’t make you a terrible person. Your past is hidden in Christ and your life is what you make of it in Him, nothing more, nothing less.”
“I—I—know.” She sobbed into his shirt, gripping handfuls of it in her fists.
He dropped a kiss against the top of her head. “Come on, now. You can do this. You remember that time Cade, Jason, Sky and I got into a fight over you and you waded into the middle of us and set us all in our place?”
The reminder of that day made her laugh even through her tears and she nodded.
“If you could handle the four of us back then, you can handle this one old codger now. We have to go back inside and finish out this meal.” He cupped her chin and tilted it up so he could look her full in the face. “You think you can do that?”
The concern in his deep brown eyes almost set her off again, but she hauled her composure up from the depths of herself, sniffed and swiped at her tears with the flats of her fingers, then nodded.
“Why don’t you go over to the pump and splash a little water on your face? That always makes Sharyah feel better after she’s had a cry. I’ll make your excuses until you come back in. Take as much time as you need.”
He started to walk away but she sto
pped him with a touch on his arm. She held his gaze for a long moment before she finally said, “I couldn’t do this without you. I’m so thankful you’re here.”
His face softened and he pressed his palm to her cheek. “Yes, you could. You have so much more strength than you know, Ria, because no matter where you go, God is on your side. But this time you don’t have to face it alone, and I’m thankful to be here to help you walk through this.” He reached out and tucked a curl behind her ear. “More than you know.” Stepping away he motioned her toward the pump. “I’ll see you back inside.”
When she arrived back in the house a few minutes later everyone had already finished eating so she set about serving the apple pie she’d made earlier.
Just as he was finishing his last bite, Mr. Cane (she refused to call him Parson for another moment) started to choke. His face turned a mottled red and his fleshy cheeks vibrated with fervor as he tried to pull in a breath. Victoria, her coffee pot frozen in mid-pour, watched the changing hues of his face in horror.
“Oh my!” Pastor Hollybough exclaimed.
Rocky leaped from his chair and gave the man such a whack on the back that Victoria startled and sloshed coffee onto Mrs. Hollybough’s plate. Catching herself, she planted the coffee pot firmly on the table and looked back at the man whose bulging eyes appeared as though they might pop from his head at any moment.
Jimmy and ChristyAnne tittered as Rocky whacked him again and the man coughed convulsively and then finally took a huge gasp of breath, his jowls jiggling like the wattle on a turkey.
He stood and swiped a trembling hand across his face. “Ah… If you good folks will excuse me, I think after that bit of embarrassment I will hustle on back to the boarding house and get myself some rest.” He pulled his bowler from the peg by the door and twisted it around by the brim, looking at Victoria. “You’re as fine a cook as your mother ever was, young lady. She’d be right impressed if she could be here to meet you.”
Victoria didn’t trust her voice so she merely nodded her thanks.
“I’ll see you out,” Rocky said and held a hand toward the door for the man to precede him.
Simon started out, recalled that the blasted Bible still rested where he’d left it on the table at the end of the couch and turned back for it. He almost rammed into the husband, but the man was agile on his feet, and he leaped back out of the way.
Confounded idiot.
He’d had everything under control with his little choking display. When he started his act, to get out of having to discuss the Romans with the minister, the small piece of crust had been all set just near the back of his throat so that when he coughed, it would pop out onto his plate. Then the husband had darted over and given him such a surprisingly painful whack that he’d gasped and the crust had lodged in his throat for real. For a few eternal seconds, he’d thought for sure that his resting place this evening would be boot hill and not the boarding house.
Snagging the Bible and tucking it under his arm he waved farewell to Victoria, the minister and his wife, and the children once more. For some reason they were all staring at him, jaws slightly slack. He had a feeling that this evening’s con hadn’t gone so well.
As Rocky followed him out the door he realized the young whelp had probably saved his life with that second whack, but – he rolled his shoulders – he was going to be feeling the effects of it for a couple days.
He turned at the end of the walk and stretched his hand out to the husband. “Son, thank you for having me tonight. I rightly appreciate you allowing me the chance to get to know my daughter.”
The younger man folded his arms and ignored his proffered hand. “I want you to stay away from my wife.” The look on his face was one of feral intensity.
So the con had been even worse than he’d thought. It had been a little strange when they both got up and left the room so quickly. He should have known that the role of minister was one he, of all people, would be hard put to pull off. Still, he had to try and smooth things over. “I—I don’t understand?”
“You understand perfectly well. I don’t know what your real name is but if you’re a minister then I’m no lawman. I have no idea what you want with my wife, or if you are even her real father but I want you to keep away from her. She’s got enough to deal with right now without having to wonder and worry about you, too.”
Simon’s heart rate quickened. If this pup started doing a little research on him there was no telling what he might find. And he had no intention of going back to prison. Still, there was nothing he could do right at this moment, so he stubbornly clung to his role. “Young man, I honestly have no idea what you mean by these seeming accusations. But I’ve done nothing wrong. Your wife is my daughter and while I’m not proud of some of the mistakes I’ve made in the past, they are just that, in the past. I’m trying to put things right, and I hope you will not stand in my way. For now, I will say good night and I wish you all the best until we meet again. I hope that you will not rob your wife of the happiness of getting to know me.”
“How do I even know you’re her real father?”
Simon’s eyes narrowed. “You just ask her if her mother left a locket in her possession. Silver and shaped like a heart. Engraved on the back are the initials M. S. for Millie Suzanne.” Or Maggie Saunders as the case may be. “There was also a small rag doll, Millie sewed with her own hands.”
With that he presented his back to the young devil and hoped the erratic thumping of his old ticker couldn’t be heard. He needed a drink. He was getting too old for this. That’s why you need to make this one pay. This will be the job that sets you up for the rest of your life and you know it. Just stay calm!
He glanced back. The man still stood at the gate like a formidable guardian, his gaze practically boring holes through the dusk between them.
Simon sighed. Sure he needed this. But it wasn’t going to be easy.
He needed to rethink his strategy.
Victoria went through the next day in a semi daze. Rocky had come in and asked her about a locket with the initials M. S. engraved on it. She’d pulled hers out and showed it to him. Mama had said the locket and the doll were the two things that came with her when they adopted her. They’d been left with her at the foundling hospital.
With each new bit of evidence she grew more and more confident. That awful man really was her father. How else would he know about her locket? But why would he be in town posing as a minister, when it was quite obvious from his behavior that he was anything but?
She sighed and pushed thoughts of the man from her mind.
It was Friday morning and later tonight the Racklers would come for dinner. But first, Mama and Doc were to arrive this morning in Salem on the ten o’clock train.
Victoria had hustled the children out the door and now finished up the dishes with trembling hands. What was she going to tell her mother about her and Rocky? And about Baxter Cane? How would Mama handle that news?
Rocky would drive her to the train depot and she had rehearsed various scenarios over and over on how to explain both situations to Mama, but none of them seemed adequate.
She heard the buggy pull up at the back door and Rocky poked his head in. “Ready?”
“Almost. I’m just finishing up these dishes.”
He tossed his hat down on the side-board and stepped over behind her. Placing his hands on the counter on either side of her, he looked down from one side.
She kept washing the pan she was working on, willing her heart rate back to normal and refusing to meet his gaze.
“Nervous?”
She chuckled. “Yes.”
“Me too,” he grinned.
“You don’t have anything to be nervous about. Mama is going to be thrilled to have you as her son-in-law. I’m the one who’s going to be in trouble because she wasn’t at the ceremony.”
His voice lowered. “She’ll come around to forgiving you when you produce her first grandbaby.”
She felt the h
eat climb her neck and pumped water to rinse the pan.
All week long Rocky had been most attentive. Bringing her flowers one day, a stick of candy from the general store the next. He’d popped into the house at the most inconvenient times – or convenient, for breaking her walls down even further – to compliment her or tease her or both.
Now, he pressed a kiss to her jaw just below her ear. “You’re so beautiful when you blush, Mrs. Jordan.” The whisper wafted warmth across her cheek.
She felt sure her face could rival the tint of a red summer poppy and her heart hammered in her ears as she set the pan into the drain board. With nothing else to wash, she rested her hands on the rim of counter between her and the sink.
He nuzzled the hair by her ear.
She resisted the urge to turn in his arms and give in to the desire weakening her knees. She needed to change the subject. “How am I going to tell Mama about Parson Cane?”
He settled his hands on her shoulders. “Your Ma is a very understanding woman, Ria. She only wants happiness for you. If Cane really is who he says he is, I’m sure your mother will be thrilled that he finally found you.”
“I know, but— What if—”
Gently he turned her to face him. “No what ifs, remember? You can’t worry about what others are, or what they think of you.”
She gave a tiny nod. “Alright. I’m done. We can go now.” Despite her desire to project self-confidence, her voice came out in a tremulous whisper.
“Everything’s going to be fine, but,” he grinned and bent closer, “I need a kiss. It might be the last one I get before your mother kicks me out of the family.”
She laughed and splayed her palms against his chest. Pressing him away firmly, she gave him as stern a look as she could muster. “We need to go. Now. Or we are going to be late for the train. Then we’ll really have some explaining to do.”
He grinned unrepentantly and reached past her to lazily snag his hat. “Might be worth it, though.” One lid dropped.
The Shepherd's Heart Series: A Boxed Set Book Bundle Collection Volumes 1-4 Page 73
