Marrying the Preacher's Daughter

by Cheryl St. John

  “Couldn’t make up your mind?” Rhys asked.

  Gabe picked up on the barb. “Like to keep my options open.”

  One of Elisabeth’s sisters was seated on a bench near a window, and she studied Gabe curiously.

  Sam glanced at her. “Have you met Anna?”

  “I haven’t.”

  “Anna is my youngest daughter—at least for the time being. Anna, meet Mr. Taggart.”

  “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, sir,” she said and rose to greet him with a little bow and a bashful nod.

  “Your daughters are equally lovely,” Gabe said to his host.

  Anna’s hair was paler than Elisabeth’s, not as dense or wavy however, and her smile was warm and infectious. He guessed her to be about sixteen. She held a closed book, her index finger keeping her spot. Once the attention was turned away from her, she opened the book and apparently picked up where she’d left off. She seemed content and confident. Watching her made him think about his sister and wonder about the years of her childhood and youth, growing up at the academy and not with a family like this one. He’d never had experience with this kind of atmosphere before.

  He’d always believed he’d made the best choice for her, and he still did.

  He couldn’t have provided her education or safe upbringing if he’d had to work in a mine or a factory. The few times he visited the school, he’d been impressed by the stability and routine. Irene had been given every opportunity that an education and a respectable background could provide.

  Now she needed a husband with a good job and a secure future. Someone established and responsible.

  He glanced at Rhys. At a break in the conversation, he asked, “What do you do, Mr. Jackson?”

  “After his death, I took over my father’s position as president of Rocky Mountain Savings and Trust.”

  “Banking,” Gabe acknowledged with a nod.

  Another fair-haired young lady came to announce it was time to take their places in the dining room, and he was introduced to Abigail.

  “I’ve heard all about you from my little brothers,” she told him with a twinkle in her eye. “Of course their descriptions are exciting and involve guns and robbers.”

  She was younger than Elisabeth, not quite as slender, but just as pretty. He had to wonder if Elisabeth would shine in the same way if she allowed herself a charming smile and the same exuberance.

  They reached an enormous dining room with a long table suited to dinners such as this. The table itself had a covering made of fancy needlework, and atop it were platters and bowls holding a mound of mashed potatoes, mouthwatering sliced beef, a slaw and other vegetables. He’d never seen so much food outside a restaurant in his life.

  Rhys seated his mother and took the chair beside her as though familiar with the arrangement. Gabe waited for instruction.

  “Please, sit here,” Josie said, standing behind an empty chair.

  “Thank you, ma’am.” He stood behind the chair she indicated, but waited until she sat to take his own seat.

  Sam sat at the head of the table, his wife at his right and Mrs. Jackson on his left, putting Rhys directly across from Gabe. Josie was on Gabe’s right.

  Sam continued with introductions, and Gabe learned the twin to his left was John. Beside John sat their nanny, Miss Tyler, and then Peter. Phillip sat at the foot of the table, and along the other side were Abigail, Anna and beside Rhys, Elisabeth.

  As the food was passed and he helped himself, he considered the seating arrangement. Were Elisabeth and Rhys courting? He couldn’t picture her accompanying him for a buggy ride or a picnic, but then maybe it was only Gabe she behaved so poorly toward. He made a point to pay close attention to her interaction with the others.

  She chatted with Anna on her right, and Anna told her about a dress one of her classmates had worn that day. Elisabeth lent her undivided attention to the description.

  “We might want to spend a few days in Denver,” Elisabeth suggested. “That shop where we found the periwinkle gabardine might have a similar lace.”

  She appeared sincerely interested in helping her sister create a dress like her friend’s.

  There was a loud rasp, like the turn of a doorbell, and Elisabeth stood, holding out her hand as though to stop Josie from standing. She dropped her napkin on the seat of her chair, reminding him he hadn’t even unfolded his. “I’ll get it,” she said.

  Gabe opened his napkin discreetly.

  “Where are you from?” Josie asked from beside him.

  “Born in Illinois,” he replied.

  “I’m from Nebraska. Sam found me there and brought me to Colorado.”

  “A divine appointment to be sure,” Sam said with a fond smile directed at his wife.

  Elisabeth returned. “It’s a telegram for Mr. Taggart.” She handed him the folded and sealed paper and went back to her seat.

  Uncertain what to expect, Gabe opened the telegram. His examination shot directly to the sender. Irene Taggart.

  Tired of waiting STOP Will arrive on the tenth STOP Cannot wait to see you STOP.

  His food rested uncomfortably in his belly. He hadn’t told his sister he’d been shot. The last time he’d contacted her he’d told her his arrival date in Jackson Springs and assured her he’d send for her when he had a home ready.

  He didn’t have a home ready.

  “Bad news?” Sam asked, and Gabe realized everyone’s attention had focused on him and the piece of paper he held.

  “No. No, it’s good news, actually.” He folded the telegram and tucked it into his shirt pocket. “My sister will be arriving sooner than I’d expected.”

  “You have a sister?” Elisabeth asked, the first time she’d spoken to him since he’d entered the dining room.

  “Is that so hard to believe?”

  Sam looked at his daughter, and she attempted to cover her surprise. “I just never pictured you with a family.”

  “I wasn’t hatched.”

  An uncomfortable silence settled on the gathering until Josie interrupted it with, “Do you have family other than your sister?”

  “My folks died a long time ago,” he answered. “Irene’s been at boarding school in Chicago.”

  “How old is she?” Anna asked.

  He thought a second. “Must be she’s nineteen now.”

  The news that Gabe Taggart had a sister shouldn’t have surprised Elisabeth, but it did. People weren’t born in a vacuum, but if she’d been going to imagine his family, she’d have thought up scruffy-bearded brothers, not a sister at a boarding school.

  “I own land nearby,” he said, as though offering an explanation to the others. “I’d planned to have looked it over by now and started building a house, so I’m behind.”

  Rhys focused his attention on the other man. “Where is this land of yours?”

  “From what I can tell, the piece is northwest of here,” Gabe replied, then shrugged. “Doc won’t let me ride, so I haven’t seen it.”

  “Do you think you could tolerate a buggy ride?” Sam asked. “We could go look at it tomorrow.”

  Gabe smiled, his teeth white. “I’d be obliged, Reverend.”

  “Your sister is welcome to stay here with us,” Josie offered.

  Elisabeth couldn’t quite pinpoint the look that crossed his features. He studied Josie for a moment before speaking. “That’s generous of you, ma’am, but I’ve got a place for us to stay until I build a house.”

  “Oh, really?” Beatrice entered the conversation for the first time. “And where will that be?”

  “Seems it’s nearby from what Elisabeth tells me.” He tore his gaze from Josie to glance at the older woman.

  “The parsonage,” Elisabeth explained. “Mr. Taggart has rented it.”

  “Well, that is close by,” Josie said. “You’ll be able to join us for dinner at least once a week, and I won’t hear any different.”

  “I can’t argue with an invitation like that.” The smile he gave Elisab
eth’s stepmother softened his features. His green eyes actually sparkled with appreciation. Elisabeth experienced an odd feeling, like the falling sensation in a dream, and placed both hands on the tabletop to steady herself.

  “This is the best meal I’ve eaten in months,” Gabe said. “The Hart females sure know their way around a kitchen.”

  “I made rice pudding,” Abigail added, quickly vying for his attention.

  He raised his eyebrows in surprise and appreciation.

  “It’s still warm.” Abigail glanced at her stepmother. “May I serve it now?”

  “Just as soon as we clear away a few dishes,” Josie replied.

  Elisabeth slid out her chair with the backs of her knees and stood. “Abigail and I will clear the dishes. You stay seated.”

  Kalli got up. “I’ll help.”

  In the kitchen, Abigail said to Kalli, “Mr. Taggart is handsome, don’t you think?”

  Kalli blushed. “Indeed,” she agreed. “It’s not fair that a man has eyelashes like that.”

  Elisabeth scraped plates and rinsed them in the pail in the sink before stacking them. Handsome? She supposed if he’d ever done anything but scowl at her, she’d have a different opinion of the man, but he hadn’t smiled at her like he’d smiled at the others this evening. Not that she’d wanted him to. She’d never have imagined her stepmother and siblings to be so easily fooled.

  On her next trip for more dishes, she deliberately looked at his eyelashes. He caught her stare, and she turned away in discomfit.

  Abigail carried her bowl of steaming cinnamon-scented rice pudding to the table and Elisabeth placed a stack of painted china jelly dishes beside it. Abigail sat, so Elisabeth spooned pudding and carried the bowls around the table, placing them in front of the diners. When she reached Gabe, she stood as far away as possible and leaned in to set the dish before him.

  He turned a curious glance upward. “Thank you.”

  “We don’t need any bridges.”

  Elisabeth glanced up to discover Rhys speaking to Gabe.

  “And there are no salt mines nearby. Will you be making shingles in Jackson Springs?”

  She sensed a mocking edge, as though Rhys was belittling the other man’s skills or perhaps even questioning his intent.

  “Actually, I’m planning to invest,” Gabe replied.

  Rhys lifted his eyebrows. “As in stocks?”

  “Perhaps. But I’m more interested in finding someone who needs capital to get a business started. I don’t want to work the business, so as long as it’s a sound principle. I’d be a silent partner. Meanwhile I’ll buy a few horses and try my hand at ranching.”

  Gabe had Rhys’s attention now. The man sat forward, ignoring the dessert placed before him to focus on Gabe. “And you have the capital to fund a venture such as that?”

  It was a rude question, akin to asking the man how much money he had, but Rhys was a banker, and she supposed it was his nature to question.

  “That I do, Mr. Jackson.”

  “Rhys. Call me Rhys.”

  Chapter Six

  Elisabeth set down the last dish in front of Abigail with a thud. Well, if that didn’t beat all. Her father had taken the man in, and between him and Josie they’d made certain Elisabeth saw to all his needs. Her little brothers thought he was a hero, Abigail and Kalli called him handsome, and now even Rhys had rallied around Gabe’s camp because Gabe had money to put in his bank. None of them had seen his antagonistic side or experienced his cutting tone.

  He never had a civil word to say to her, but he was all smiles and compliments around everyone else.

  “I’ve never tasted rice pudding this good,” he told Abigail, and she blushed to the pale blond roots of her hair. “In fact I don’t know when I’ve ever eaten so well. Reverend, your wife and daughters are excellent cooks.”

  “That they are,” Sam replied with a proud grin.

  Elisabeth rolled her eyes. Abigail noted it and frowned at her.

  A knock sounded at the door, and this time Sam raised a hand to the others. “I’ll get this one.”

  When he returned, he gave his wife’s shoulder an apologetic squeeze. “I’m needed at the Quinn place. Seems Ezra collapsed and the doc thinks it’s his heart.”

  “Oh, my,” Josie said. “Well, we’ll pray for him right now. You hurry on.”

  “Girls, you look after Josie tonight,” Sam said with a look at Abigail and Anna. And then he turned to Elisabeth. “I never know how these types of things will go, so if I shouldn’t get back in time, Elisabeth, please take our guest to see his land tomorrow. Take Phillip along if you need another hand.”

  Her heart sank, but she nodded obediently. “Yes, sir.”

  As soon as Sam was gone, Josie reached across the table for Beatrice’s hand and Gabe’s on her left. She closed her eyes.

  Gabe hadn’t held a woman’s hand in a good long time, and never while the woman prayed, so Josie’s action caught him off guard. Decidedly uncomfortable, he waited to see what happened next.

  “Elisabeth, please pray for Mr. Quinn,” she said, surprising him even more.

  But Elisabeth didn’t hesitate. “Father God, we lift our friend Ezra Quinn to You and ask that You would touch him with Your healing hand. We believe Your Word that says Jesus took our infirmities and bore our sicknesses, so we thank You that Mr. Quinn is delivered and whole this night in Jesus’s name.”

  “And we pray for Ezra’s boy, Lester,” Josie added. “Give him strength and comfort and provide for him from Your gracious bounty. Thank You, Lord,” Josie said and the others chorused their amens before she released Gabe’s hand.

  Gabe didn’t set much store by their faith, and he sure didn’t think any prayer was going to make a difference if the man had already had a heart attack and his number was up.

  They finished their dessert without their former enthusiasm, and Elisabeth and her sisters cleaned up the table. Josie ushered Sam and the Jacksons into a large sitting room. Sam’s ribs ached something fierce, but he remained seated on an overstuffed chair until Elisabeth finished her chores and joined them.

  “Excuse me,” he said to the others. “I’m going to go upstairs and lie down.”

  Beatrice and Rhys said their goodbyes, and he climbed the stairs, Elisabeth on his heels.

  “Would you like your medicine?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “I’ll just lie down.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “You don’t have to take me anywhere tomorrow. I’m sure I can find a driver and a buggy.”

  “If my father doesn’t return, I’ll accompany you,” she assured him. She lit the lamp on the bureau and turned down the covers on the bed. Picking up the empty pitcher, she headed for the door. “I’ll bring fresh water as soon as I’ve heated more.”

  “Much obliged,” he said with a nod. Once she was gone, he eased onto the bed and closed his eyes. He didn’t like being indisposed, and he really didn’t like being indebted to the ungracious Elisabeth Hart. Even if she did have the prettiest eyes this side of the Rio Grande. It had been plain from the start that she didn’t want any part of him and was only seeing to his needs out of obedience to her father.

  The sooner Gabe Taggart was out of here and on his own, the better.

  He woke to the sounds of the family the following morning, shaved and dressed on his own, then found his way downstairs to the dining room where they’d eaten the night before.

  The boys, seated in their same places, glanced up when he joined them. Anna sat on the other side of the table, but Abigail was missing.

  “Is your ribs better?” Phillip asked.

  “They must be,” he replied. “But if this is better, I don’t know how I got through the past couple of days.”

  “Grunting,” Phillip replied with a serious nod.

  “Guess I did my share of grunting,” he agreed with a sheepish grin.

  The twins giggled.

  Elisabeth hesitated in the doorway, then hurried f
orward and set down the bowl she’d been carrying. “Good morning, Mr. Taggart.”

  Obviously a greeting for the children’s sake, because she didn’t normally speak to him like that. “Good morning, Miss Hart. Has your father returned?”

  “He came home for a few hours while it was still dark, but headed back to the Quinns’.” She served her young brothers cooked oats and drizzled maple syrup on top of each one’s bowl. “I will be accompanying you this morning. Phillip will join us.”

  “I will?” the lad asked with a hopeful expression. “And not go to school?”

  “That’s right.” She stroked his back through his overalls and shirt. “I suppose we should pack a lunch in case we’re out at noon.”

  He looked up at her with twinkling eyes. “Can I help?”

  “Of course you can.”

  “I wanna go, too!” Peter announced. He already wore a glob of oatmeal on his shirtfront.

  “Me, too,” chirped John. At least Gabe thought that was John. The two younger boys looked just alike, but if they were sitting on the same chairs as last night, he had them straight.

  Their mother entered the room carrying a platter of buttered toasted bread in time to hear their pleas.

  “You’re staying with Mama this morning,” she said and gave each of them a kiss on the forehead and wiped Peter’s shirt with a damp towel. “I need your help kneading bread.”

  John held up a bent arm to show her his biceps muscle. “I can hewp you, Mama. I gots big muscles. See?”

  Abigail joined them, breathlessly seating herself, taking a piece of toasted bread and spreading jam on it. “Are you ready, Anna?”

  “I’ve been ready. You’re the one who changed clothing three times.” She stood and picked up a stack of books and a lunch pail from the sideboard before giving Josie a peck on the cheek. “Where’s Kalli?”

  “Hanging wash out back. Don’t fret about me. Have a good day at school.”

  After the girls hurried out, Elisabeth sat and ate.

  The routine and the scurrying were foreign to Gabe. He’d eaten alone and traveled by himself most of his life, sleeping in his bedroll under the stars or in stark hotel rooms. Hotel dining rooms served decent meals, but most of the time he bought food in cafes or saloons and on the trail ate whatever he could carry with him.