“Aye, but you will.”
“No, I swear it. I know I’m rough and bullheaded. I’ve done wrong in my life. And sometimes I don’t think things through from start to finish before I act.” His arms tightened around her. “But I’d never hurt you. You’re something different, Caitrin. Every time you talk, little pieces of you get twisted around my heart. I don’t understand the way you think. We’re a matched pair, all right, but I don’t understand that God who holds you so tight and keeps you apart from me. I need—” he paused and she could feel him searching—“I need … something from you. I don’t know what it is.”
“Maybe ’tis the three words. Not the ones you keep after me to say. Those others.” She stood on tiptoe and whispered into his ear. “You are precious. Just think of it, Jack. You are precious to the Father—”
“Caitrin?” Rosie Mills’s voice rose to a note just short of a shriek. She was striding across the barn floor, a lantern hanging from her hand. “Caitie, what are you doing? Who’s that with you?”
Caitrin jumped, but Jack pulled her close again. “It’s all right, Miss Mills,” he said. “Caitrin’s been out here talking to me.”
Rosie’s eyes widened as they darted from one face to the other. Then her mouth fell open. “Caitie!” she gasped. “That’s Jack Cornwall!”
CHAPTER 5
I DON’T believe we’ve been introduced,” Jack said, assessing the astonished young woman who stood before him. He could feel Caitrin quaking in his arms, and he tucked her hand inside his to reassure her. “Name’s John Michael Cornwall, but most folks call me Jack. I’m Chipper’s uncle. And you must be Miss Rose Mills.”
“You-you-you—” Rosie stammered, pointing a finger—“you tried to kidnap Chipper! Y-you grabbed me at the party. You shot at Seth.”
“All true. But not until after Seth had kidnapped my nephew from the only family he’d ever known.”
“You’re a Confederate!”
“Well now, that’s a different matter entirely.”
“Turn Caitrin loose!” she shouted. “You’ll never get your grimy hands on Chipper this way. Let her go, you—you Cornish snake!”
“As I hear tell, Cornwall is not heavily populated with snakes, Miss Mills,” Jack said, working to hold back a grin. “And I’m not inclined to turn loose of a good-looking woman who wants to be held.” He bent to brush a kiss across her cheek.
“Caitrin Murphy!” Rosie gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth.
At that, Caitrin shrank into herself, mortified at his boldness. Jack was momentarily surprised at her response, but reality quickly became apparent. Fiery and stubborn Caitrin might be, but her loyalty to the O’Toole family proved she was no rebel. It wasn’t likely she would fight them for the right to choose the man who would court her. And she would never defend a man with Jack Cornwall’s reputation in the town of Hope.
The moment he’d been dreading had come. It was time to go, and he had made up his mind to leave with all the gallantry he could muster. If he could protect Caitrin from the hostility she would face over having cared for him in secret, he would do it. He loosened his embrace and stepped aside.
“Go ahead with your friend, Miss Murphy,” he said. “I apologize for the inconvenience I’ve caused you.”
“Inconvenience?” The flame in Caitrin’s eyes roared to life as she turned on him. “You have caused me more misery—more agony—than you can ever imagine! Sure, you’ve tilted me topsy-turvy, Mr. Cornwall. First you settle yourself in my storeroom and refuse to budge. And just when I think you’ve finally gone away, I begin to dread the thought of your leaving. You call me mouthy and stubborn—but the very next moment I’m your flame-haired Irish beauty. You try to kill my friend and steal his son, yet you treat me with a gentleness I’ve never known from a man. You command me not to preach at you, yet you beg to know what it is that makes me different.”
She squeezed both her fists together and shook them at him. “A full half of my heart is praying for the moment you walk out of this barn and leave me in peace,” she said. “And the other half can’t—can’t bear the thought of never seeing you again! After all the havoc you’ve caused, will you simply stand aside and wish me away with Rosie—as though I’m the merest of acquaintances?”
Jack stood rooted, absorbing her words and trying to make sense of the storm crashing around inside him. “Do you think I’m having an easy time here, Caitrin? I wandered into this barn broken and defeated. And then you came along with your lace petticoat and your red hair. You called me a villain, but you treated me like a man. You trusted me. You healed me. I don’t know how, but you gave me hope. I should have left this godforsaken prairie days ago, but—”
“Now just a minute there, you smooth-talking scoundrel,” Rosie cut in. Taking a step forward, she jabbed Jack in the chest with her finger. “This prairie is not godforsaken. I’ll have you know a better class of people lives here than you’ll ever be good enough to join! We take care of each other. We defend each other. And as for Caitrin—I don’t know what kind of deceitful flattery you’ve tried to pull on her—but you can just take your black horse and ride straight out of here, because Seth and Jimmy won’t abide your presence for a minute. Not a single, solitary minute!”
“Rosie, please,” Caitrin said. “You don’t understand.”
“Oh, don’t I? He’s been toying with your heart. If he can’t destroy us by stealing Chipper, he’ll just ruin the prettiest, sweetest woman in our town. He’s trying to sully you, Caitrin, but somehow you’re blind to it. If he can’t lure you into sin right here and now, he’ll probably bamboozle you into running off with him.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Jack spat out. “Caitrin has a mind of her own.”
“Yes, she does,” Rosie said. “And a home of her own, too. Caitrin, don’t think for one second about leaving with this man.
We love you, and you belong with us. Seth has planned a wonderful gift for you. I was supposed to keep it a secret until the wedding, but I’ll just tell you the truth right now. This winter Seth is going to build us a brand-new house and barn—and he’s giving you his soddy, Caitrin. Think of it. Your own house, a store to help manage, a town full of people who care about you. And if it’s a husband you want, well, there’s always Rolf Rustemeyer.”
“Rolf?” Caitrin said.
“Who’s Rolf Rustemeyer?” Jack demanded.
“He’s a wonderful, upstanding, hardworking gentleman,” Rosie said. “He would never steal children. He would never fight for slavery. And he would never seduce a poor, innocent woman in a dark barn. More than once Rolf has told me he would like to court you, Caitrin. So there! Your life is settled and perfect … and don’t you listen to this man for one more minute. Now come with me before Jimmy walks out here and starts shooting.”
Rosie reached for Caitrin’s arm, but Jack blocked her. “Not so fast, Miss Mills. You seem to be forgetting that this poor, innocent woman you love so much has a right to her own opinions. As far as I’m concerned, Caitrin can choose where she wants to live, what she wants to do, and who she wants nearby. If she ever works her way through the tangle and chooses to have me at her side, you can bet your last dollar I’ll treat her right. I’ll protect her. And I’ll fight any man who tries to come between us. Count on it.”
Stamping her foot, Rosie glared at him. “I am not a betting woman!” she said. Then she swung around and faced her friend. “Fine, then, Caitrin. Choose.”
“Not yet,” Jack pronounced slowly and carefully in Rosie’s face. “I have to go back to Missouri and take care of a little trouble that’s been following me around. Besides that, I have people to look after. Responsibilities.” Then he straightened and met Caitrin’s green eyes. The look of bewilderment in them softened his fury. “I may not understand everything about you, Caitrin,” he said. “But I respect you. You’re something special. Something I’ve been needing. Maybe it’s those three words, huh?
What do you think?”
&nbs
p; “Sure, I don’t know, Jack,” she whispered.
“I don’t know either, but I’ll find out. You can depend on that. And now, if you ladies will excuse me, I’ll get my stuff and head out before someone in this friendly little town starts shooting at me again.”
He strode across to the storeroom, grabbed his shirt, his guns, and the bag of supplies he’d been accumulating, and headed for his horse. As Jack bridled Scratch, the stallion tossed his head, eager for some exercise. Jimmy had put the saddle on a sawhorse nearby.
“Okay, boy,” Jack murmured as he fastened the cinch. “Easy, now.”
Both women were standing just where he’d left them, stock-still and staring after him as he led Scratch out of the barn. It was all he could do to walk away from Caitrin Murphy, but he wouldn’t cause her any more trouble than he already had.
Jack mounted and set off, peering through the swirling flakes of the now heavy snow in search of the trail that led to the road. The sky was black, as black as it had been the night he’d come to this place. But he felt none of the defeat that had burdened him then. The flame of Caitrin Murphy burned brightly inside him. So did the words she had spoken … those three little words. You are precious.
He threw back his head and stared up into the dizzying flurries, but the calm in his heart held firm. You are precious to the Father, her words echoed. Precious to the Father.
“Hey, God,” he shouted upward. “Jack Cornwall here. I’ve been looking for you.” Watching the snow fly, he drank in a deep breath of chill air. And I’ve been looking for you, a voice answered softly.
Caitrin hurried across the barnyard toward the soddy, praying fervently to escape Rosie’s questions. She had almost reached the door when her friend laid a hand on her arm.
“Caitrin?” Rosie asked. “What on earth have you done?”
Pausing, Caitrin took a breath and turned. “I know you want an explanation for what you saw tonight, Rosie, but I don’t have one that will satisfy.” She spoke quickly, hoping to put an end to the conversation. “Sure, I found the man lying in Jimmy’s barn the night of the harvest party. After his fistfight with Seth, the bullet wound in his shoulder was torn open and bleeding. I gave him a little salve and some food, as a Good Samaritan should. He was in no condition to defend himself, so I put him in the storeroom to keep Jimmy from finding him that night … then he refused to go away. But now he has, and that’s that.”
“Jack Cornwall kissed you,” Rosie said, her eyes crackling beneath her yellow bonnet. “I saw it.”
“He’s not like we thought … not wicked through and through. Aye, he carries guns and rides a big black horse and shoots at people now and again. But only for a good reason. He does have his reasons, Rosie. You must believe that.”
“I’ll never believe anything that man says as long as I live. He’s just like the serpent in the Garden of Eden, hiding in places where he doesn’t belong and tricking innocent women with sly words.”
“And what do you know of the words that passed between Jack and me?”
“Jack? You call him Jack?”
“He’s a human being, Rosie, not a serpent. His name is Jack, and he has a heart far more tender than you could ever imagine.
The wrong he did to Seth was done on behalf of his dear parents, so it was. Chipper is all they have of a family, except for—”
Caitrin caught herself. If she told Rosie about Lucy Cornwall, her friend’s anger would surely soften. But that would betray the secret pain Jack had shared with her. If he wanted others to know of his sister and her burdens, he would tell them himself.
“Jack is loyal to his family,” Caitrin continued. “He has said he would fight to protect those he loves, and that is exactly what he did in riding after Chipper. Does that make him evil?”
“Jack Cornwall also said he’d fight any man who tried to come between the two of you. Are you among those he loves, Caitie?”
Caitrin sucked in a breath. “Of course not. He hardly knows me. We spoke together but a few times, and never in the light of day.
Jack has been away at war, and I’m likely the first woman he’s met in a long time. I put a bandage on him and fed him some sausage. Sure, he won’t have found love in that.”
“Do you love him?”
“Rosie!” Caitrin jerked the quilt up higher on her shoulders. “How can you ask such a silly question? As I’ve said a hundred times, I love Sean O’Casey as much today as I did the day I left Ireland, and even though he wed the mine owner’s daughter, I shall never love another man as long as I live. But I won’t brand Jack Cornwall a villain. I caught a glimpse of the true man that he is, and my eyes were opened.”
“I think your heart was, too.”
Caitrin looked away. “Think what you will, Rosie. He’s gone away now. He’ll be riding for his home in Missouri and the family who needs him. Work calls him, and responsibility, too. He won’t trouble us again, you can be sure of that.”
“After what I saw in the barn tonight, I’m not sure of anything,”
Rosie said. “For your sake, I pray he never comes back.”
Caitrin’s eyes filled with sudden, unexpected tears. “If you wish to pray about Jack, Rosie, pray for his soul,” she choked out. “Pray that the Spirit of God will fill his heart. Pray for the troubled family who depends upon him. Pray for his safety from those who pursue him. Pray that he may find a good woman who has the courage to love him as he deserves. For my own part, I shall pray that if Jack Cornwall’s name is ever spoken again in the town of Hope, you will remember that he is a man and not a snake. Perhaps then the Holy Spirit will direct your tongue to defend him with words of kindness, truth … and forgiveness.”
Wiping a hand across her damp cheek, Caitrin pushed open the door and stepped into the soddy. Jimmy was snoring beside the fire. All the children were asleep. Sheena glanced up from her mending.
“Ah, Caitrin, there you are,” she said. “Poor Rosie was in kinks of worry over you. You’ve been away such a long time. Are the stores all in place?”
“Aye, Sheena.” Caitrin picked up her darning and sat down on the low stool. Behind her, she heard Rosie slip into the room. “All is as it should be.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Sheena said. “With devils like Jack Cornwall roving about the place—”
“I’m sure Jack Cornwall is no more a devil than you or I, Sheena.” Rosie spoke firmly as she took her place beside the fire and spread her wedding dress over her knees. “Caitrin, what do you think of this row of ruffles? Maybe I should take it off. I’m not really the ruffly kind of girl, am I?”
Caitrin blinked back the tears that threatened. “You’re the good kind of girl, Rosie Mills,” she said. “And ruffles or not, you will look beautiful on your wedding day.”
“I do wish Hope had a real church,” Sheena said as she and Caitrin slipped onto a bench near the front door of the mercantile. “A wedding should be held inside a proper sanctuary. Nothing else seems quite right.”
“The real church is the body of Christ—everyone who believes in him,” Caitrin said. “And with all of us collected here today, the Hope Mercantile is as fine a place as any for Rosie’s wedding.”
Caitrin surveyed the decorations inside the wood frame building and tried to take joy in her handiwork. Sprays of winter wheat tied in huge yellow bows hung on the mercantile’s walls. Sunflowers with nodding brown faces and bright golden petals clustered in vases, bottles, and jars around the room. Every counter wore a length of sunny yellow calico or gingham topped with plates piled high with cupcakes and cookies. Seth had built a little pulpit, and it stood on the rough dirt floor facing the gathered crowd. Near it, hands clasped behind his back, waited a bald-headed little minister. The man had been imported all the way from Topeka just for the occasion.
As the community’s motley band began to play on fiddles, accordions, and mouth harps, Caitrin let out a deep breath. Well, she hoped Rosie and Seth would enjoy their wedding day. She had done all she could
to make the surroundings beautiful. The good Lord himself had melted away every flake of the early snow that had fallen. He’d arranged for a sky the color of chicory blossoms and an afternoon sun in the exact buttery shade of Rosie’s wedding dress. Caitrin had no doubt that the union established this day would be wreathed in happiness.
As for herself, all contentment had walked out of her life with Jack Cornwall. For the past few days she had been a tangle of nerves. Snappish, impatient words slipped from her tongue. She could find no pleasure in her neat rows of merchandise and the eager customers who stopped at the mercantile to buy. She could not even delight in Sheena’s little brood. They vexed her, tried her patience, and made so much noise it was all she could do not to scream at them. Jack had stolen nothing from her—nothing but the very joy of living.
Against her own best intentions, Caitrin checked the barn storeroom at least three times a day. But of course, he was never there. When she tried to sleep at night, his words ran in dizzy circles around her brain. Worst of all, every time she thought about the years stretching ahead, she saw nothing but bleak isolation.
The prospect of owning Seth’s soddy only served to remind her that she would spend the rest of her days alone. Always alone. Was that such a terrible thing? she asked herself time and again. It should not be. The apostle Paul himself had chosen the single life, better to dedicate himself to the Lord’s work. Surely Caitrin could adopt such a holy attitude.
But no. The rapture in Rosie’s eyes plunged a knife of agony into her heart. And she despised herself all the more for it.
Caitrin dug into her pocket for a handkerchief. Was every man who barely touched her soul bound to abandon her? First Sean O’Casey. Then Jack Cornwall. Who would be next? No one, for she would never dare let another man near enough to hurt her. Caitrin sniffled. She could only pray that people would assume her tears were borne of happiness for dear Rosie … and never suspect that she wept out of vain, wretched pity for herself. Oh, could God ever forgive her for such a sin? And could she ever find a way out of this maze of misery?
Prairie Fire Page 7
