Sins of the Mothers (Texas Romance Series Book 4)

by Caryl McAdoo

  What would it hurt to give the priest a few coins?

  Talk to the Almighty, if there was such a person, about his friend.

  He walked in.

  No resemblance to the gold encrusted one he’d visited in New York.

  His schoolmate’s bride insisted they be married in a church, so Jethro had gone, though he didn’t understand half of what the priest said, since he’d dropped Latin after the third class. He looked around at the raw board walls and benches.

  One big room, the place empty. Just an old store; someone put up a church sign.

  Who lit the candle?

  “May I help you, son?” An old man sat on the bench behind him to the right. Where’d he come from? He stood and walked toward him, bent with age, dressed like an undertaker, except he didn’t have the morbid look most morticians wore. His face glowed in the candle’s light.

  “Uh, the priest around? Wanted to pay him to pray for my friend.”

  “I’m the preacher here; the Catholic Church is downtown.”

  “Oh, what are you then?”

  “Methodist. What’s wrong with your friend?”

  “Got caught in a mine explosion, busted ribs, broken arm, the worst part, he isn’t waking up, not eating, barely drinking anything. He’s wasting away.” Why tell this stranger about Moses? He didn’t know his partner or care, just another miner got himself blown up.

  Jethro fished out a Half Eagle and held it on his extended palm. “Tell God I’d like my friend back. I’ll pay.”

  “God doesn’t need your money, son.” The old man pushed Jethro’s open hand away. “His healing is not for sale. Put your money away. What’s your friend’s name?”

  “Moses.”

  The preacher gasped. “Are you Jethro Risen?”

  A chill grabbed his arms. Goose bumps popped up then were gone just as fast. Lot of folks knew that he and Moses were partners. “What of it?”

  “I married Moses and Lanelle. He asked me to pray for you. You say he got caught in an explosion? Was Elijah hurt?”

  How did he know the young man, and why hadn’t anyone mentioned the preacher? “No, sir. He was tending the hammer mill.”

  “Where is Moses?”

  “Miss Ling’s.”

  He nodded. “That’s good. Was going to suggest her if you’d taken him to one of our sawbones.” The man extended his hand. “Pray with me, Jethro.”

  Hadn’t held hands with another man other than to shake since his mother’s funeral. How long had that been? But he did as told, then let the old boy pull him to a little bench in the back of the room.

  He knelt down, and Jethro didn’t see any way not to follow suit. Didn’t mind. He’d crawl naked over a mile of tailings if it got him Moses back.

  “Our Father, Who art in Heaven…”

  Jethro knew this one. Moses had recited it so many times. He joined in and got it right, word for word. Then the guy started over and talked off on his own, making it up as he went.

  “Our Father, we bless you. We come before Your throne now asking for our brother’s life.”

  The more the old preacher prayed, the better Jethro liked him. This guy knew his stuff, and best of all, not one Latin word came out of his mouth.

  The guy pushed back from the bench and pressed his head to the floor, and went to talking under his breath. Jethro tried to listen but couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  He looked to the ceiling.

  Was there really a loving Father up there somewhere?

  Had He sent His only Son like Moses claimed?

  COME UNTO ME ALL WHO ARE WEARY AND HEAVY LADEN AND I WILL GIVE YOU REST

  “What’d you say?”

  The guy raised up off the floor shrugged then put his head back on the floor boards.

  How long had it been since he’d slept? Dozed some yesterday. That had to be it, except he wasn’t a bit tired. Energized, really. That voice. Didn’t sound a bit like the old man.

  FOR I SO LOVED THE WORLD

  “That You gave Your only begotten Son?” Jethro repeated the verse Moses quoted so many times. “That whosoever... I’m a whosoever, but it’s Moses needs to be saved.”

  HE IS MINE ALREADY

  For a few heartbeats, Jethro’s soul hung in the balance, but he knew what he had to do. Moses had told him plenty of times. If not in this life, he’d be reunited with his friend in the next. “I’m a sinner, save me, Lord.”

  Seemed to Lanelle that his breathing came easier. Maybe his cracked ribs had healed some. She wiped his brow, then kissed his cheek. “Moses Jones, you’ve got to live. Can you hear me? I can’t go on without you. Please! Come back to me.”

  He gasped then held his breath all together like the part of him that still felt couldn’t stand letting it out.

  “Breathe, baby. Please don’t stop breathing.”

  He exhaled real slow, the air barely coming out. But then inhaled again, shallow this time, like that same part insisted no deep breathing.

  She put her ear to his chest like Miss Ling. His heart thumped, but nowhere near as loud as the last time she listened. Was he dying? A rage rose and burned her cheeks. She didn’t love Caleb. She knew that now, grieved more over his leaving her than hearing of his passing. Idiot. Getting himself killed over a harlot.

  Mary would hate her once she figured it all out. Couldn’t stand it that she wouldn’t run off with him, first pretty face came along turned his fool head. Men and their silly pride. Poor girl.

  She should have told her in Jefferson before she married the idiot, but she believed his lies. He was going to get rich and…

  “Wake up, Moses, we have business to tend.”

  She kissed him square on the lips then put her mouth close to his ear. “I know you told me not to, but I am. I want you to know, so hear me well, I love you, Moses Jones. You. It’s you I love you so much it hurts all the way to my toes just thinking you might die on me. So don’t. Do not do it. Come back to me. Choose me. I know you love me. Please wake up. I can’t bear it if you die.”

  Her voice left her as the rage vanished, replaced with more tears. She flopped back in the chair and wept. There she’d told him. Hopefully, he heard her. Knew now that she loved him. If she couldn’t have him here, he’d be waiting for her in Heaven.

  Then like a giant boulder had been lifted off, she slipped into a gentle gray mist that enveloped her. For the longest, she floated there. He stood on their porch with his arms out. She ran into his embrace, and he smothered her with kisses.

  “Do you, Lanelle, do you really love me?”

  She pushed on his chest, but he wouldn’t let her go. “You know I do. I’ve been showing you every way I can, except the saying. You made me promise.”

  Oh, how she loved his laughter. She pressed into his chest and his laugh bounced her. “I told Jethro I was thinking maybe you did, but then he got embarrassed, me talking about us loving on each other.”

  She snuggled against him. “I love you, Mister Jones.”

  “I love you, too, Mis’ess Jones.”

  A hand slipped into hers and squeezed. She didn’t want to wake up. She wanted to stay there with Moses. Where he was alive. Out there…

  “Lanelle.”

  What? Had her ears…

  She jumped to her feet. He held her hand. Sobs burst out and wracked her body. But somewhere down deep, she found her voice. “Moses.”

  “I’m so hungry, baby. We got anything to eat?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Forgiven. He was forgiven.

  Jethro lay all the way down then rolled over onto his back on the church floorboards and closed his eyes. So clean, and pure and so wonderful. Moses better wake up, so he could slap him for not telling him how clean Jesus made a heart.

  Everything brand new, he’d never experienced anything like it.

  The preacher raised his head then pushed himself to his feet. “Best go see to your friend.”

  The old man, right as rain. Lanelle shouldn’t be le
ft alone. Jethro rolled over and stood. “You coming?” Hadn’t he heard something about last rites?

  “No. I’ll drop by in a day or two.”

  Jethro didn’t understand the preacher’s nonchalance. In a day or two, Moses…

  The old man put his hand on Jethro’s shoulder. “Your friend’s awake.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “The Lord told me.”

  “God talks to you?”

  “Yes, He talks to all His children. By the way, you need to be baptized.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Ask Moses.”

  Was it really true? Could it be for real? The joy on the old boy’s glowing face definitely indicated he thought it was. Jethro pulled out the Half Eagle again and held it out. “Please take this.”

  “Of course, brother. I’ll accept any freewill offering.”

  Though he wanted to stay and talk about what had just happened to him, he couldn’t wait to get back to Miss Ling’s and see for himself if the preacher knew what he was talking about.

  His friend and Lanelle needed him. With many thanks, he hurried out, rediscovered his bearings, then trotted the ten blocks to China Town.

  He stopped at the side door for a quick blow got his breath back then slipped inside.

  Moses sat up in bed with his wife snuggled in beside him.

  “It’s true. You live.”

  His friend nodded. “Is it true, Jethro? Have you finally found Jesus?”

  The sob caught in his throat, tears filled his eyes. He nodded, then after too many tears, found his voice. “Yes, my friend, I did. Or rather He found me.”

  Lanelle raised her head and smiled. “Jethro, he woke up.”

  “Yes, he did.” He drew close, patted her hand that now rested on Moses’ chest then turned to his partner. “Oh, I ought to slap you.” He laughed.

  Moses caught his mirth and grinned. “Why? What have I done now?”

  “You never told me how wonderful Jesus could make you feel. It’s amazing.”

  The big man snickered, grabbed his chest with his good arm, then grimaced. “Don’t make me laugh.”

  Oh, how wonderful to have his friend back. “Fine, but you best stay on guard, because once you’re better…”

  Moses gave him a knowing grin. “I need a favor.”

  “Anything.”

  “Take Lanelle to a hotel. Lock her in a room and keep the key until she gets some sleep.”

  She rolled off the bed. “No, sir. I am not leaving your side. I can sleep right here.”

  Jethro looked from his friend to the man’s wife. “How about I take her to the Mercantile. She can see to baby Jonesy and get a good nap at the same time.”

  “Baby? My love, you’ve had our baby?”

  “Yes, we’ve got a fine healthy boy—thanks to Mary. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up to name him.” She glanced at Jethro. “Jonesy?”

  “Why’s he at the Mercantile? I want to see him.”

  She grimaced. “I’m sorry. I… I was afraid, so worried… My milk wasn’t right. Mary’s been taking care of him, so I can be with you.”

  “How long ago? How old is he? ”

  “A week old tomorrow. Jethro can go and bring him and Mary here. We can come up with a name while he’s gone.”

  “Take her, Partner. After she gets a good nap, bring her back with my son. I want to see my boy, and ask Miss Ling if I can have more soup, but not another drop of that horrible tea.” He turned to Lanelle. “I’ve come back to you, love. Now please, go get some rest—for me.”

  Lanelle couldn’t fight them both. While Jethro hitched the mules, she spoon-fed Moses a few bites of soup.

  “No more, please.”

  She wiped his mouth. “Have I told you, I love you, Moses Jones?”

  “Yes, sweet lady. About a hundred times since I came back from our cabin.”

  A chill danced over her heart. Then spread a warmth over her soul. “I dreamed we were on the porch. When you woke up and took my hand, I didn’t want to leave. I was so afraid you’d be dead.”

  “I asked if you really did love me; you got mad. Said –”

  “Yes, I know what I said. That I’d been showing you every way I could, but without the words because you made me promise not to until...”

  “From there I went to Brother Paul’s church. Saw Jethro on his knees, prayed for him. Oh Lord, it seemed so real, but not in my body. Then boom, I returned here, but where is here?”

  “Miss Ling’s.”

  “Oh, mercy. I still can’t believe he brought me here. Do you know if he’s seen Meiko?”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Miss Ling’s daughter, the infamous China Doll. She broke Jethro’s heart.”

  Lanelle couldn’t believe her ears. “That’s who –” She stopped herself, determined never to let her cousin’s name pass her lips. “She’s a…”

  “That’s right. Miss Ling, too, once, but…”

  Poor Jethro, poor Mary. The same harlot stabbed them both in the heart. She smiled. “You sure you’ll be fine while I’m gone? I’d rather stay.”

  “No, sweetie, go get our baby boy, and maybe a new dress, and a…” He scrunched his nose and crossed his eyes.

  She burst out laughing. “I must look a sight. Hadn’t bathed or changed my dress in what? Nine days?” Had it been that long? She kissed him. “Yes, sir, a hot bath and a new dress.” She looked toward the door.

  Hopefully, Miss Ling didn’t lurk around the corner. She leaned in. “Shall I bring you a steak and all the fixings?”

  “I’d love one, but maybe just a bite or two.” He pressed his head back. “Go on, I need to close my eyes a while.”

  She hated leaving him, but needed to see to the baby and herself. He’d be there when she returned. Praise the Lord. She didn’t deserve it, but He’d heard her prayers and forgiven her and given her husband back to her.

  Her love for Him, His grace and mercy, could not be contained, and neither could her joy.

  Like the gentleman he always was, Jethro helped her up to the bench then came around the wagon, unlocked the brake, and headed west.

  “Where could I get a hot bath and new dress? Do you have any money left?”

  “Enough for that, but the bank’s full of our gold.”

  He stopped outside of a barbershop two doors down from a ladies boutique. “If I’m remembering right, this place has private baths.”

  “A barber?”

  “Yes, ma’am. It’s either that or a hotel; want to take the time to go downtown?”

  “No, this will be fine. Would you mind making the arrangements while I find me a dress?”

  “Not at all, be my pleasure.”

  She waited for him to tie off the team then help her down. He kept her hand, turned it over, and filled it with coins. She loved having money. Her whole life, the clan had just scraped by.

  And now she was so blessed with a wonderful husband who happened to be wealthy. She wouldn’t love him less if he were penniless, but rich suited her fine. Her elation lasted through the soak and putting on her new dress.

  She wanted to burn her old one, but her frugal self couldn’t bear it. It would wash up fine. Then the closer the mules took her to the Mercantile, the thicker the cloud over her heart seemed, and darker by the minute. Breath came hard.

  Poor Mary, had she figured it out? Did she even know about the Wheeler men’s feet? Surely, she must. As much as she wanted to send Jethro in for the baby, she couldn’t just sit there.

  Besides, she had some gratitude to show. The Buckmeyer princess had saved her baby boy’s life when Lanelle had no time for him.

  Accepting Jethro’s extended hand, she let him help her down, then stood next to her in front of the Mercantile. Hmmm, she’d renamed it. Lone Star Mercantile. Well, didn’t matter to her. John ran off, and Caleb… God rest his miserable hide.

  “Best we go on in, before she sees us.” He extended his arm.

  She took it
and leaned hard on him as she climbed the steps to the boardwalk. He opened the door for her and stepped aside. Mary sat at her desk, her face blank at first, then her eyes filled with tears. She knew. She’d figured it out.

  Oh, Lord, have mercy.

  “Moses woke up.”

  She jumped to her feet and ran around the desk. “Oh, cousin, praise God!” She held out her arms.

  Lanelle walked into her embrace. “I’m so sorry, Mary.”

  The girl hugged her tight then put her mouth close to her ear. “Don’t be, sweet Lanelle. We can’t change the past. We’re family, and our babies are –”

  “Cousins.”

  Mary leaned back. “Yes, cousins, just like us.”

  No punches thrown.

  Quite impressed, Jethro backed away once the hugging started. Looked to him the young lady had put all the pieces together. Taking it better than he figured, too, but in her place of business, what else could she do?

  Make a scene then run away? He allowed himself a smile, definitely different from two sporting ladies after the same miner.

  He strolled the aisles. All sorts of merchandise packed the shelves, twice maybe three times the goods than when John Wheeler ran the place. Mary had a head for business. What had John called her? Oh yes, his Queen of Commerce?

  She’d done wonders with the place, and if he had the story straight, she only started with a couple of thousand. Caleb’s whiskey hadn’t hurt, but still seemed John’s bragging wasn’t a lie.

  “May I help you, sir?”

  He spun around. A young man about Elijah’s age wore a shopkeeper’s apron and leaned on a broom. “Is Mister Wingate around?”

  “Right here, Jethro.” The old barber rounded the shelf’s end, holding his bent fingers out. “You’re a sight, son. Heard just now Moses is going to pull through. That’s great news, top drawer.”

  Jethro barely shook the man’s hand. “Yes, it is indeed.” He nodded toward the boy. “This one any count? Is there more where he came from?”

  “Fair to middling, I guess.” The man smiled at the boy, who beamed. “Better if someone’s watching him.”

  “Hey, now, Mister Wingate. I’m standing right here.”