The stares of passersby and Mr. Kilgore’s glare gave her feet wings. The cool night air blew against her burning face as she scurried down the street. She didn’t stop until she was well away from the hotel.
Tinny piano music and coarse laughter accosted her ears. Just ahead on the boardwalk, patrons of the Blue Goose saloon came and went by way of the swinging door. There was certainly plenty of light coming from those front windows. Tiptoeing inside the establishment undetected seemed as unlikely as slipping past Mr. Kilgore in the hotel lobby. The longer she stood in the shadows staring at the saloon’s glow, the more she longed for a place where she could sit and read the passages Mama had underlined.
She sidled up next to the window and leaned against the building. She’d dropped the broom straw when Mr. Kilgore bellowed at her, but she had little trouble finding her place. The page was so dog-eared and its edges so worn from use that it had to be one of Mama’s favorites. The yellow glow from the window fell across the words her mother loved.
“The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusted in him…with my song will I praise him.”
Tessa doubted the discordant music coming from the saloon was the kind of song the psalmist had in mind, but she was reminded of the songs her mother taught her from the time she was a little girl. A sweet hum of memory seeped into her mind, and the words of Mama’s favorite hymn caressed her heart.
“Fairest Lord Jesus, Ruler of all nature…”
Tessa tried to recall the rest of the words, but the noise from the saloon was so loud and distracting it was impossible to block it out. How Papa would laugh if he could see her now.
She pushed the thought from her mind. She was here to take advantage of the light. There would be time to recall those precious memories of hymn singing with Mama later. Maybe when she went to the mercantile to pay for the crock, she could also purchase a candle so she could read in the privacy of the shed. Regardless, she was determined to use this time to satisfy her hunger for worship. She read further down the page. Some of the psalms were familiar. She remembered her mother reading them to her.
“Thou art my hiding place….”
The idea of God hiding her comforted her heart. She read it over again. Was a promise that precious meant for someone like her? Did she dare claim it? She closed her eyes and envisioned God covering her with His hand.
“Looky here. C’mere, little darlin’.” A hand seized her arm and yanked her from her reverie. The unshaven face of a man she didn’t know loomed before her. His menacing eyes swept up and down her frame. “You ’n’ me’s gonna have a little party, honey.” His sour breath was so vile she nearly retched.
Her heart pounded, and her mouth was devoid of spit as the lecherous brute tightened his grip and pulled her toward the swinging doors. She planted her feet squarely, pulling away from the drunken man with all her strength. When she opened her mouth to protest, nothing came out except a raspy hiss.
Chapter 10
Gideon knocked on Miss Pearl’s door as the crickets and cicadas were tuning up for an evening serenade. When she opened the door, Gideon noticed small, pinched lines around her eyes and a lock of gray hair that had escaped its pins.
“Hello, Gideon. Come in.”
“Evening, Miss Pearl. I’m sorry to come by so late, but I needed to let you know we’ve run into a problem. Cully said we’re missing some parts for the stove. I sent the order today and stated it was a rush order, so I’m hoping it won’t take too long.”
The woman brushed her hair back as she nudged Gideon toward a kitchen chair. She sliced a large piece of gingerbread and set it in front of him with a glass of milk. “I’m certainly ready for Tessa to come and take over the baking.” Miss Pearl sat opposite Gideon with a cup of tea.
Gideon took a gulp of milk. “The challenge will be getting her to agree to our plan without thinking she’s taking charity.”
“Charity? Why, that’s silly. She’ll be working for her room and board by doing the baking for me. And what a blessing that will be!”
Gideon let out a rueful chuckle. “She’s got a streak of pride, and that’s for sure.” He pressed his lips into a thin line and recalled Tessa’s response when he urged her to take the food crock. He wondered if she’d found it on her doorstep yet. “She won’t take anything that she can’t pay for or thinks she hasn’t earned.”
Miss Pearl rolled her head from side to side and reached up to massage the back of her neck. “Do you think she’d agree to move in here right away while we’re waiting for the stove parts?”
Gideon forked up a piece of gingerbread and paused with the tempting morsel balanced an inch from his lips. “I’d like nothing better than to move her in here tonight. But if we have every detail of the plan in place before we present it to her, it will make it harder for her to say no.” He shoveled the large bite of gingerbread in his mouth and washed it down with another swallow of cold milk.
The thought of Tessa working herself into exhaustion every day at the hotel with nothing more than a ramshackle shed to call her home troubled him more deeply than he cared to admit. Gideon shook his head. “Every time I think of her over there in Kilgore’s kitchen, I could bite a horseshoe in half. I don’t like the way he treats her.”
“Henry Kilgore is a scoundrel, and that’s a fact.”
Gideon snorted and sank his teeth into the last bite of gingerbread. “I’ve got to get going. Martha will be wondering where I am.” He rose and moved toward the door but stopped abruptly. “Say, Miss Pearl, do you have any of Maggie’s kittens left?”
“They’re out on the back porch. Take your pick.”
He crossed the kitchen to the porch.
Three kitties curled up, overlapping each other in a basket. Maggie assumed a regal pose beside them and switched her orange-and-white tail while she surveyed him with aloof detachment.
Gideon scratched the top of the mother cat’s head. “You have some mighty pretty babies there, Miss Maggie. Would it be okay with you if I take this one with me?” He stooped down and gently eased a sleepy white kitten with orange patches into his arms.
The kitten, which was the image of its mother, immediately nestled against his chest.
“Much obliged, Maggie. I promise your baby will have a good home.”
The mother cat craned her neck as though telling her offspring good-bye and curled up with the remaining kittens.
Gideon returned to the kitchen and held up his choice for Miss Pearl’s approval.
“That one’s real playful. Martha will like her.”
Gideon grinned and rubbed the kitten’s chin. “She’s for Tessa. I hope this little one will be a good companion for her.”
Miss Pearl arched an eyebrow as she walked him to the door. “Why not just leave the kitten here? Tessa will be moving in here shortly.”
Gideon lifted his shoulders. “She has an urgent need for a cat’s hunting abilities.”
Miss Pearl shuddered and frowned. “Ooh, Gideon, we need to get her moved out of that awful shed and over here as soon as possible.”
“Believe me, I wish I could convince her this very minute. I telegraphed the order and left word for the agent at the freight depot in Dubuque to notify me as soon as the parts are on their way. I’ll let you know when they arrive. Thanks for the gingerbread and this little mouser.” He tucked the kitten inside his shirt as he descended the stairs and headed home.
Just as he turned the corner, his attention was drawn to the boisterous activity across the street at the Blue Goose Saloon. The raucous shouting and bawdy revelry shattered what should have been a peaceful evening. His irritation mounted when he thought of the immorality taking place inside. He skewed his face into a frown. Some of that activity seemed to be spilling out onto the boardwalk. Then his feet froze in place.
Tessa? Was that Tessa out in front of the saloon? The man she was with left her and staggered back into the saloon while Tessa disappeared into the shadows, but the noise emanating from the
place prevented Gideon from hearing anything they might have said to each other. The feelings he’d kept telling himself were purely friendship exploded in his chest, and something twisted in his gut. Did Kilgore convince her to take the saloon job?
Tessa locked her fingers around Mama’s Bible and ripped her arm from the drunken oaf’s grasp. Her feet flew down the alley, carrying her away from the nightmarish scene. She didn’t stop until she reached the shed.
Tessa slipped inside the dark refuge, pushed the door closed, and sucked in great gulps of air. Her own heartbeat pounded so loud in her ears that she was certain the despicable man would only have to follow the sound of it to find her. Beads of cold sweat dripped down her neck and back. The skin on her wrist burned where the man’s fingers had scraped when she pulled her arm from his grip. Dizziness washed over her trembling frame, and she allowed her weakened knees to buckle and lower her to the floor. Pressing her back against the door, she closed her eyes and braced her feet against the trunk.
The lingering stench of the man’s sour breath smelled just like Papa’s after he’d come home from town with a bottle in his hand and rage in his heart. She swallowed back the nausea the memory evoked. Uncontrollable shudders spilled over her like a bucket of icy water, and she let go of her tears.
All she’d wanted was some light by which to read Mama’s Bible. Still clutched in her cramped fingers, the book flopped like a half-stuffed rag doll. Even in the darkness, she could feel the torn pages and broken spine. “Mama, I’m sorry. I should have taken better care of your Bible.” Salty tears slid across her lips. Guilt over the damaged Bible hung its accusing weight around her.
She reached out to feel for the trunk’s latch. Her fingers found the leather flap, and she lifted the lid, tucking the Bible inside with a heavy heart. Wrestling the trunk’s bulk across the small space, she wedged it against the door.
Tomorrow’s daylight would no doubt point further condemnation at her when the full measure of harm to the Bible became apparent. For now, she’d lie on her quilt and listen for staggering footsteps and a slurred voice.
Darkness still hung its heavy curtain over the town, but Gideon hadn’t been able to close his eyes all night except in prayer. He tiptoed in his stocking feet down the back stairs to the solitude of the mercantile.
Despite trying to deny what he saw, the fact remained Tessa was consorting with some disreputable-looking man in front of the saloon. True, she disappeared into the shadows and the man entered the saloon without her. But what if things were as they appeared?
Tessa seemed repulsed by the idea the day Kilgore blurted out his sordid offer. Either she’d been pretending, or she’d swallowed her pride and accepted the job.
Gideon raked his fingers through his hair. Two pictures tangled in his mind—one of Tessa standing in the doorway of the house he hoped to build someday and the other of Tessa outside the saloon with that man. The two couldn’t be reconciled to each other. If God was going to answer his prayer for a good marriage, the Lord certainly wouldn’t draw him to a fallen woman.
“God, I’m confused. Were You truly leading me to Tessa? Should I continue working on the bakery if she’s made the choice to work in the saloon?”
The sign he’d finished painting yesterday lay on the shelf in the storeroom, ready to hang in the front window of the mercantile. The cheery yellow and green letters he’d painted were now dry. TESSA’S BAKERY. When he’d spoken the words yesterday, he’d done so with excitement. Now they sounded hollow. His heart ached with the possible truth of what he’d seen.
“God, I thought maybe Tessa was the woman You’ve chosen for me. Maybe I was wrong. Please make things clear for me, so I can follow the path You want me to take.” A verse in Psalm 5 came to mind. “Make thy way straight before my face.”
No audible voice responded, but an unmistakable nudge moved in his heart—God’s admonishment to not judge but simply wait.
Wait? All right, Father, I’ll wait. Please reveal Your will to me one way or the other. I thought setting Tessa up in her own bakery was Your plan. Maybe it wasn’t. I thought maybe You had chosen Tessa for me. Maybe You didn’t. All I can do is wait.
“At any rate, maybe it’s a good thing I found out about this before I started having real feelings for her.” Incrimination prickled in his middle. Whether he admitted it or not, his heart was already drawn to Tessa.
He propped the front doors open and displayed the OPEN sign.
He spent the morning moving stock from one shelf to another, muttering as he went. Sometimes having no customers in the store was a good thing. He could talk to himself without anyone thinking he was daft. There was more than one reason a man could go loony, and he suspected most of those reasons had to do with women.
He worked his way along the shelf, until he came to his inventory of crocks, the ones with the snug lids. He picked one up and stared at it. If he felt nothing for her, why did it matter to him that she needed a vessel to keep mice out of her food? Why did the prospect of Tessa working in the saloon fill him with an ache so painful he could barely draw a breath? He returned the crock to the shelf.
“That’s the problem. I do feel something for her, and the way she’s living bothers me more than I can put into words.” He dropped his arms to his sides. “That’s not the only thing I can’t put into words.”
Light footsteps on the wood floor made him turn. If there was a day that he didn’t want to look at those hazel eyes, this was it. The morning sun gilded her hair, turning it the color of sun-ripened wheat. She sent him a shy smile, and he nearly choked on his thoughts.
“Good morning, Gideon.”
He let out the breath he was holding. “Morning.”
She walked up to the counter and laid down eighteen cents. “Thank you for bringing the crock. That was very kind.”
Gideon detected a hint of strained humiliation in her voice, but she didn’t utter a word of anger over his deed.
“Do you sell candles?”
His tongue simply lay there, paralyzed between his teeth, and refused to function. Answer her, you idiot, or she’ll think you’ve lost your mind.
At that moment he was quite certain he’d lost his heart, but God’s instructions were to wait. He had a hundred questions to ask her, and he feared the answers. Impatience hammered inside his rib cage.
But in the meantime, she was standing there waiting for an answer. What was her question? “I’m sorry, what did you need?”
Tessa sent him a skeptical look. “Did I come at a bad time?”
Gideon kicked his brain into motion. “No, not at all. What can I get for you today, Tessa?”
Her brows lowered into an uncertain frown. “Candles?”
“Sure. I carry several sizes.” He forced his feet in the direction of the shelf that contained the large divided tray with a variety of candles. He scooped up a handful of the most popular size. “These are two cents apiece. How many do you need?”
“Just one, please.”
Gideon paused in midmotion. “One candle?”
She straightened her shoulders. “Yes, please.” She laid two pennies on the counter.
“You sure that’s all you need?”
She leveled her gaze straight into his eyes. The hazel eyes darkened a bit and erected a stubborn, defensive barrier. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“One candle it is.” He laid her purchase on the counter and picked up the pennies. “Before you go, I have a surprise for you. Wait right here.” He hurried to the storeroom. As he picked up the kitten, he allowed his gaze to drift over the stove, worktable, and shelving. This would be the perfect time to show her the work he’d put into the project on her behalf. No, he needed answers to some of his questions first. And besides, God told him to wait. He returned to the front with the kitten in his arms.
The guarded look in her eyes fell away. “Oh! What a sweet kitty.” She reached out and gathered the ball of orange-and-white fluff against her chest. “Just listen to that purr. I
t’s like she’s singing.” She caressed the kitten’s head, and the little cat reciprocated by rubbing against Tessa’s chin. “You mean you’re giving her to me? To keep?” Her eyes glistened.
“I thought she might keep you company.”
Her smile put the rays of the morning sun to shame. “Oh, thank you, Gideon.” She buried her nose into the kitten’s silky fur. “We had barn cats back in Indiana, but Papa wouldn’t let me pet them. He said their only purpose was to keep down the mouse popula …” The word faded on her lips, and she gave Gideon a knowing look.
“Cats are good for that, too, I suppose.”
She raised her eyebrows at him. He hadn’t fooled her at all. “Whatever your reason for giving her to me, thank you, Gideon.” She scratched the kitty under the chin. “I think I’ll name her … Daisy. But now I really must hurry and get back to work. I told Flossie I’d only be gone a few minutes. It’s all I can do some days to keep up with all the orders for cakes and pies.”
Uncertainty and impatience drove all good sense from his head. “Cakes and pies? I thought you changed jobs.”
Tessa shook her head. “No, I’m still working at the hotel kitchen. Why would you think I’d gotten another job?”
Heat climbed his chest and burned its way up his neck. “I saw you—last night. In front of …”
Her eyes widened, and the color drained from her face. Apparently she didn’t know she’d been caught.
He hated confronting her, but he had to know the truth. If her stricken expression was any indication, he must be right.
Tears filled her eyes, and she hugged the kitten close. “You saw me out in front of the saloon so you supposed that I was working there?” Mortification permeated the curves of her mouth, and fire lit her eyes.
What he first thought to be tears of shame, he now realized were tears of anger. “Well, I—”
“You what? You assumed I was the kind of girl who would take a job like that?”
Brides of Iowa Page 9
