by Stella Clark
Chapter Four
“It’s all done, Preacher McKey. The pews are clean, the floor is dusted, and I even gave the windows a washing. I think everyone’s going to enjoy seeing through the glass. Don’t you think? All those nice colors …” Mrs. O’Henry sighed happily before turning back to Adam.
He glanced up. Right, he’d forgotten she was there. “Yes, lovely colors. Thank you, Mrs. O’Henry, you know I appreciate your service. How are your children these days?” Maybe getting his nose out of a book for a minute would help him clear his thoughts.
Fixing up her bundle of brown hair, the woman shrugged. “They’re children. Always causing trouble and forever the apple of my eye. Oh, but I’m sure you know what that’s like now these days. You’ve had the Miller children for a while now, haven’t you? How are they? Are they good? Are you good?”
Adam had known from the beginning that the Miller children had no other options. They had no family to take care of them, they were too young to be on their own, and the rest of the town was still recovering. He knew the troubles that every other family around Prairie Sage was enduring, and he couldn’t ask anyone to care for the children. So just like that, he had become their guardian.
He just hadn’t expected it to be so trying. “Every day is a trial,” he managed at last. “And every day is a blessing. We must count what we are given and learn to appreciate it. They’re a handful, but I think they’re settling in well.”
That might have been a lie, but he didn’t want to think about it. He already had too much pressing on his mind. Mrs. O’Henry cut through his thoughts as she clucked her tongue. “You, sir, you need yourself a wife. Every preacher should have one, and every father should have one. So you’re in double need.”
He offered a tight smile. He’d heard that before. “Thank you for your suggestion, Mrs. O’Henry.”
Before Adam could invite her to return to her own family, she offered another comment. “I heard on the way here, pardon the gossip, there’s one in town looking to get hitched. A mail order bride, if you can believe it? Only, now she won’t take the man. Mr. Bain, it was, the clerk. Apparently they’re sorting it down at the courthouse. You could always put in your bid.”
His eyes skimmed over his notes for Sunday’s sermon. They were mostly just scattered thoughts at the moment. And not remotely interesting. But Mrs. O’Henry’s comment … it sparked just enough curiosity that he left the church to go learn more. At the very least, he reasoned, he could provide support to a suffering soul.
He arrived just as Peter Bain exited in huff, pushing past people on the street as he went. There was no other commotion at the courthouse, so Adam decided to step inside. There, he found the front desk of a man, busily writing notes. On the other side of the hall was a young woman with two bags and her face in her hands.
“I’m sorry for your misfortune,” Adam volunteered politely. Then he winced and tried to start again. “I’m the preacher here in Prairie Sage.”
The girl looked up. To his surprise, she had the largest brown eyes he’d ever seen in his entire life. Her honeyed curls framed a soft, pretty face that looked like she was about to cry. “Oh dear, is it already town gossip? That’s certainly embarrassing. Thank you, sir, for your words, but I’m afraid I won’t be amusement anymore. Not unless you can pay me for the laughs, or offer me a job?”
It wasn’t a real plan, and it had only come together with Mrs. O’Henry’s comment. All the same, Adam needed help with the three children he had taken in that kept him up at night and left him running around with no time to get anything done. He already had the belief that every man should have a wife, and he should be no different. There simply had never been an opportunity to look for one.
“I’d like to propose something else, actually,” Adam coughed. “Perhaps a marriage of convenience?”
The girl looked at him strangely. No, she was a woman with that expression. “I’ve already attempted that. I’m afraid I had to return the travel expenses and it’s left me with nothing else to give. You had best find a girl elsewhere. I assure you, there are plenty in Boston.”
“I have three children,” Adam pushed past her comments, not certain they were relevant. “That is, they’re not mine, but they are—I’ve recently come into them, you see. And I’m afraid it’s more than I expected and I could use the help. They need a mother, after all, perhaps more than a father. And if you are still interested in marrying a man out west, I would take you.”
The words were awkward off his tongue, but he had never attempted to propose to a woman before and wasn’t certain how it was done. The way she stared at him in response offered little promise.
Silence ebbed between them and Adam realized the secretary across the room had stopped writing his notes. When he glanced back, the man was staring at his pages but looked rather stiff. As though he were attempting to listen to a conversation that was none of his business.
So he turned back to the girl, only to realize he didn’t know her name.
What of his name? Adam cleared his throat. “My name is Adam McKey, by the way. And the children under my care are truly wonderful. Energetic and bright, all very cheerful. There’s Thad, he’s the eldest, then Rose. And then little Vera, she’s just three. I do what I can for them, but I’m afraid I can only do so much.” And he stopped. And he waited.
Chapter Five
She stared at him. Was this another marriage proposal? Molly remained seated in case she fell in a faint. But no, she was better than that. After a moment, she tucked a curl behind her ear and struggled to remain composed. He made for a rather nice preacher and didn’t look as old as Peter Bain. “I’m afraid I don’t have much experience with children.”
The stranger shared a tight smile. “Nor do I. But I could use help all the same.”
It was another offer, and somehow already more promising than the first one. He was a handsome man, after all. Tall with sandy-blond hair and dark eyes that promised sincerity. Besides, if he was a preacher, that meant he had to be a good man; honest and kind. She tried to pool her thoughts together to carefully think.
Except she knew she was running out of options. When Molly had announced her refusal to marry Peter, he’d been furious. She’d been almost certain he would beat her. Instead, he’d demanded his money back. When she’d refused, he’d dragged her to the judge, who had agreed that he deserved a refund. It was everything she had. If she wanted to go home, she would have to reach out to her parents. But if she did, Molly knew it would be upon the stipulation that she marry Leon Grady.
That thought alone made her want to faint. But she was better than that, Molly reminded herself again. Even out in the west of South Dakota, she knew better than to act silly. Only women without gall or self-respect would faint to get out of a strange or complicated situation.
My, Molly thought, it was still worthy of a scene to faint within. Yet it was too interesting to escape. Swallowing, she forced herself to stand. A Bostonian woman had manners, after all, and the least she could do was be polite. Clearing her throat, she fixed her coat to buy a minute of thought.
“Please allow me to spell it out from what I see,” Molly announced. “I’ve lost a potential suitor, but I’ve just gained one in the name of the town preacher. You’ve adopted three children, all of whom could benefit from having two parents instead of one. And upon knowing of my plight, you’ve come to rescue me to rescue yourself?”
The man hesitated, and it allowed her another opportunity to look him over. The man didn’t look much like a preacher, not from the ones she knew. He wasn’t even wearing spectacles. Rather, the man was large, with thick muscles she could see through his shirt. But he did have a nice shave, and she liked that about a man. Overall, the man looked to be rather decent, if a little humble.
But it was this, or it was Leon Grady.
“All right,” Molly Hathaway resolved with a nod and put out her hand for a shake. She knew exactly what she would end up with if it were Leon
Grady. But at least in Prairie Sage, there was the promise of adventure. It seemed uncertain, but she had asked her God for a challenge and He was certainly bestowing one upon her. How could she turn it down? “I’ll marry you, preacher.”
She had already forgotten his name.
The man nodded, gave her another thoughtful glance, and assured her he was off to find the justice. Of course, if he simply disappeared and never returned, Molly wasn’t certain she would be surprised. Would she be upset? Only a little. Mostly because she still wouldn’t have a home to turn to, she mused to herself.
Finding a clean window, Molly fidgeted to find the best reflective surface. She still wanted to look her best for her wedding. She played with her curls, attempting to freshen them up from their bedraggled and dusty state. Then she pinched her cheeks and straightened her dress.
“Couldn’t wait to find another one, eh?”
Molly stopped at the sight of the judge—or rather, justice of the peace; she wasn’t certain of the difference—who had ordered she pay back Peter Bain. A frown climbed up before she could prevent it, and she wondered if she truly wanted to be wed by that man. “You left me with little choice, sir, after your immoral decision.”
The preacher glanced between them hesitantly. When the justice of the peace opened his mouth, her new fiancé coughed. “I would hate to spend more of your valuable time, Justice Plymouth. Shall we attend to the nuptials in the courtroom or in your office?”
Justice Plymouth was an overweight and hairy man with mustard stained on his collar. Molly hated mustard, and that was just the beginning of her troubles with him. Her hands balled into fists, more than ready to endure—and win—a battle of wits with the foolish man. But he said nothing as he studied her. “McKey, you’re certain this is what you want? The Lord says to help everyone, but certainly there’s another solution.”
The preacher—her preacher—shook his head and offered her a polite smile. “We have discussed this and come to agreeable terms. While there may not be love now, there is always room. The Lord asks us to give ourselves in our love for others, remember. And in the meantime, she would be the perfect helpmeet.”
“Exactly,” Molly responded, crossing her arms. She wasn’t entirely certain what he was talking about, but the words sounded positive. “Right here would be splendid for the fresh air at the door.” Her eyes narrowed.
The look the judge sent her informed her that yes, he wanted to continue the battle. But there was work to do, so he sighed instead. “Dave, you’ll be our witness. Pay attention, will you? And get out a fresh marriage certificate. Preacher McKey is settling down. About time, too, with them youngsters.”
Molly glanced at the preacher, McKey, who simply shrugged. A good man, she hoped, though a passive one. This marriage would be interesting. Taking a deep breath, she fixed her skirts one more time. She was marrying a complete stranger, only to relearn his given name was Adam while becoming a stepmother and settling in a strange new town.
He kissed her cheek at the end. It felt rather brotherly, but Molly found she preferred that instead of her lips. Certainly not to be done until they were much better acquainted, she thought. And now was the time for that. She had just become Molly McKey.
Chapter Six
The newlyweds left the courthouse, Adam carrying Molly’s bags as he pointed down the road. Her eyes scanned the large road, taking in the sight of the buildings. All but three were single-story buildings. Only a few of them named what they held outside. It truly was the west, she decided. She just hoped there was more of it.
“When the town became too large for their church,” Adam continued, in the hopes she was listening, “a second chapel was built. That is the one set atop the hill, see? The one with a spire.” It was the only building on the hill, but he wanted to be certain there was no missing it. “Anyways, the smaller church became unnecessary and unused, so it was turned into a home that was provided to me when I arrived. It’s on the end of the row here.”
“Lovely,” Molly mused, nodding her head before she’d even had a good look. Her eyes glanced down at her bags, wondering if he would preach to her that she had too many belongings. Wasn’t that what preachers did? They told everyone to be better and do better. Quite like her mother. “And the children? What are their names again?”
He didn’t blame her for having to ask again. Sometimes he still forgot and had to think about it before saying anything. Glancing at the girl—the woman; his wife—he offered a smile. Yet her eyes were soaking in the view, all of it except for him. That wasn’t something he was used to as a preacher, though as a man, he was. Very few actually considered a preacher for their own matrimonial affair. He pushed back the desire for attention and turned back towards the house.
“Thad, Rose, and Vera,” Adam answered. “They are nine, seven, and three.”
She considered this. “That is rather young. And how, quite frankly, did you become their guardian? Were they family?”
Shaking his head, he pulled them off to the stone path that led up to the steps of his house. It was a quaint building with a large garden he labored in daily. The Lord had blessed him to work well with the earth, so he always had plenty of vegetables for home and to share. However, it had continued to grow and he wondered if she might help him manage it now.
But first, he needed to focus. “No. Actually, there was a terrible outbreak during last harvest. Most of the town suffered from it through the winter and we lost good people. We think it was the influenza but aren’t certain. It’s gone now,” he added hastily, “but the children lost their father. The mother died in childbirth earlier. With the rest of the town still struggling to get back on its feet, well, I’m doing what I can.”
Yet he needed help now. They understood the words that went unsaid. Molly fixed her hair again, hoping her bonnet did not droop. She sniffed lightly as he opened the door for her and she stepped through.
It was a comely place. Far from what she had expected, coming from a large home where they’d always had servants on staff. Adam slipped around her when she stopped in the hall, and he wondered what she thought. Surely it was bigger than what the girl had expected for a home in the west. They had an attic, after all.
“Papa!”
They were pulled from their thoughts as a little bundle of brown hair danced over and wrapped herself around Adam. His mouth opened but he didn’t know what to do. Vera had done this before, grabbing his leg and refusing to let go, but it was hard to tell if she expected him to do anything.
Molly remembered doing that as a child herself, and a reluctant smile crept across her face. She watched Adam awkwardly close the door and nudge the child politely. But she wouldn’t move. “Well,” he cleared his throat. “Vera, this is Molly. She’s going to be your new mother. Vera? Where are your sister and your brother?”
Mrs. O’Henry came around the corner, wiping her hands on her apron. “Ah, so you took me up on my advice, then. Married yourself a girl. Good, good. Thad is washing up. He spilled a few eggs, I’m afraid. Rose is stirring the soup. Mrs. Mary O’Henry at your service,” she introduced herself to Molly.
The large woman looked cheerful though a bit ruddy. Still, she offered a kind smile. Molly nodded. “How do you do?”
“Ah, a fancy one,” Mrs. O’Henry beamed. “I’m doing mighty well. And it’s mighty good to have you here. On that, I’m afraid I had best be going, my preacher, sir. My own children will be wondering where I’ve gone off to, and they’ll be needing supervision. Will I see you all on the Sabbath?”
“Certainly,” Adam nodded. “And thank you for watching the children.”
The woman waved a hand in the air. “It’s the least I could do. I’ll be seeing you, dears.” And she let herself out the door.
Just like that, the newlyweds were on their own. Alone with a little girl glued to Adam’s leg. The adults glanced down and then up at each other. She wasn’t yet twenty, and he wasn’t yet thirty. Though neither of them said a word, t
hey were wondering the same thoughts. What had they gotten themselves into?
Chapter Seven
Though Adam was prepared to be trapped with the weight of the girl around his ankle like the last few nights, Molly crouched down to poke the child. He opened his mouth, uncertain if that was the best choice. But she spoke up, so he waited, allowing his curiosity to win.
“Vera? Hello, Vera? Hello. I’m Molly,” she introduced herself. “Can you look at me? No? Well, I’m only curious what color of eyes you might have. You see, I’m fairly certain they are bright orange, but I could be wrong.”
There was a shake of the head, and he hesitated. But she continued. “No? They’re not yellow? Well then, I suppose that’s good. Do you think they might be purple?”
A giggle escaped. “No!”
Molly grinned. “My! Are you certain? Are you absolutely certain they aren’t purple? Because I think they might be. Now, give me a look, would you?”
The girl shook her head several times, the curls flapping against his pant leg. But after a minute, she opened one eye. “Blue. I have blue.”
Molly clapped. “They are blue! You are completely correct, my dear. Now you must also tell me, what color are my eyes?” She leaned forward and opened her eyes wide. “Hm?”
“Brown!” And just like that, Vera let go of Adam to cling to Molly. She wrapped her pudgy little arms around the woman’s neck, whose mouth opened in surprise. “You’re Mama?”
His new wife bit her lip and glanced up at him. They were in this together now. Her bags were in the corner, the marriage license safe in his pocket. He offered a shrug and took a step back. “I suppose I am,” Molly cleared her throat. “Is that acceptable by you, my dear?”
The two of them began to talk, and Adam was amazed by what she had just accomplished. He meant to step away to reach the other children and put her bags away. But something drew him in, preventing him from departing.
