Rand Kessler, who stood half a foot taller than Billy, stepped away from Mrs. Morgan and took hold of Billy’s upper arm. “That’s enough fighting, young man.”
“Let me go! You ain’t my pa.” Billy struggled but couldn’t overpower the hardy rancher, who pulled him through the crowd and out of Jack’s view.
Noah bent over, hands on his knees, head hanging down, breathing deeply. Dirt and grass covered his backside. Hadn’t he told Jack that was his only suit and shirt? What would he preach in tomorrow?
“Are you all right, Reverend?” Mrs. Morgan asked. She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and handed it to him. “I’m so sorry. My son can be hotheaded at times.”
Noah straightened, took the hanky, and held it against his cheek. He offered Billy’s mother a pain-filled smile. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“You had to defend yerself, Parson,” someone behind Jack yelled. Cheers of agreement battled those of condemnation.
“A preacher oughtn’t to fight,” came another voice off to Jack’s left.
Noah lifted his hands, stilling the crowd. “I want to apologize to y’all.” He pursed his lips and glanced at Jack. “Fighting is never the right choice, and I’m sorry that I was a bad example.”
Murmurs sounded all around, both negative and positive.
“Let me pass, y’all here. Move out of the way.”
Jack groaned inwardly as she recognized Bertha Boyd’s voice. She was in no mood to tolerate the busybody tonight. What could she want?
Everyone knew Bertha only came to the socials to fill up on the latest gossip first and then the refreshments. Men and women backed up, clearing a wide path for the large woman.
Bertha stopped right beside Jack and Noah. “I want y’all to know what a good man our new reverend is. He spent two and a half hours yesterday chopping wood for me and Aggie. And he did it all out of the goodness of his heart.” She nodded her head so vigorously, her three chins wobbled like a turkey’s waddle.
Heads nodded and murmurs circled the crowd.
“I was happy to do it, Mrs. Boyd.” Noah smiled, but Jack caught his grimace. He lightly touched his swollen cheek. The damaged skin around his right eye was puffing up so badly she could barely see his pupil.
Jack stepped forward, ready to be free of the crowd. “If y’all will excuse us, I need to get home and off my leg, and Reverend Jeffers needs his wounds treated.”
“I’ll go after the doc.” Hiram Stone, a man who’d recently moved to Lookout, took off at a jog.
“I don’t need a doctor,” Noah called after the man, who either didn’t hear him or ignored him.
With the action over, people drifted away, and the music started up again. Some of the men found their women and ambled back to the area in front of the musicians to dance, while others said their good-byes and headed for their buggies or horses.
Jack limped over to where Noah stood alone and looking crestfallen. “I disagree about the doctor. That cut on your brow may need to be stitched up. C’mon. Let’s go home.” Jack took hold of his elbow and led him across the field.
“I made a royal mess of things.” Noah shook his head. “It wouldn’t surprise me if nobody showed up at church tomorrow.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Noah stopped in front of Ray Castleby’s home and stared down at her as if she’d gone loco. “I’m the town’s minister, Jack. It’s my duty to keep peace and lead by example, not fight with a hotheaded man upset over unrequited love.”
“Oh and because you’re a pastor, I guess you don’t believe in defending a woman’s honor. What if your wife were attacked by outlaws, like Garrett and Miss Payton were? Would you defend her and shoot the man who was about to attack her?” Jack shoved her hands to her hips.
“That’s ridiculous. It’s a theoretical situation that may never happen and has no bearing on this conversation.”
“Fine, then. See your own self home, Reverend Jeffers.” Jack stomped off, more livid than she could remember. She hadn’t asked for his help. Yeah, she was grateful he had put Billy in his place, but she wouldn’t be responsible for his being upset. He was the one who chose to fight.
Guilt nibbled at her heels as she left him standing in front of the bank president’s house. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t find his way since the boardinghouse was within view, but the honest truth was he had come to her aid. And he had tried hard to not fight back and allowed Billy to pummel him far too long. Remorse battled her irritation. Tomorrow, battered and bruised, Noah would have to stand before the people who showed up and preach his first sermon. Many would support him, but others would oppose him.
She clenched her teeth as she climbed up one step to the front porch and then another, fighting the pain in her knee. Glancing back, she could barely make out Noah’s tall form standing in the growing shadows at the edge of the glow cast from buildings along the street. She couldn’t solve his problems. She could barely work through her own.
Her hand connected with the doorknob, and the bracelet on her wrist glimmered in the light from the parlor. Horse feathers! She’d forgotten about it in all the ruckus. She’d have to return it and dreaded seeing Billy again. But keeping it would give him the wrong idea.
She looked again to see if Noah was coming. Something niggled at the back of her mind. As if someone had turned up the flame of a lantern, the thought burst to light in her mind.
The preacher had called her Jack.
Chapter 16
After allowing the doctor to tend his wounds, Noah sat on the front steps to the boardinghouse, his face in his hands. Remorse weighed so heavily on him that he didn’t have the strength to climb the stairs to his room.
He’d lost the respect of the townsfolk before he even won it in the first place.
He’d jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.
This was a catastrophe. If only Pete were here to offer his sage advice.
But Pete wasn’t, and Noah needed to take his burden to God instead of his mentor anyway. “I’m sorry, Lord. Sorry for not showing the love of Christ to Billy Morgan. Sorry for fighting instead of being a peacemaker.”
He stared down Main Street, deserted now that everyone had gone home from the social. Some folks had waved as they drove past him, but the stern glare of others left him unsettled. Unable to find peace in his heart. He’d been right to stand up for Jack, hadn’t he?
She’d sent him a panicked look when dancing with Billy Morgan that seemed a cry for help and stirred up within him a fierce desire to protect her. He hadn’t wanted to fight—just to help Jack. But all he’d done was upset her and half the town. He’d be lucky if anyone showed up in the morning to hear his first sermon.
The quiet evening soothed his aching heart, and the stiff north breeze that had stirred up left a chill on his cheeks. The only sounds were insects buzzing around, crickets in the grass, and the distant revelry of the saloon. The noise of children inside the boardinghouse had fallen silent. Somewhere nearby, a dog barked.
Noah sighed. He generally felt closer to God outside. He bent his head in prayer, hoping to find peace and some direction for tomorrow.
“You’re looking mighty down in the dumps.”
Noah jumped at the sound of Luke’s voice. The tension that was finally leaving his neck and shoulders returned in full force. He’d been wallowing so deep in doubt and despair and begging God’s forgiveness that he hadn’t heard the marshal’s footsteps. “I thought you’d gone to bed.”
“Naw. I tucked Rachel in earlier, then took a final tour of the town. I don’t like to turn in until things quiet down.” Luke let out a low whistle. “Looks like you’ll have a shiner tomorrow. You want me to get you a slab of meat to put on it? Got some down in the root cellar. The cold might help with the swelling.”
“Thanks, but no. It’ll be all right, I reckon.”
Luke nodded and hopped up the steps, opened the front door, and turned down the lamp in the parlor th
at threw some light on the porch. Then he took a seat on the steps next to Noah. “I don’t know about you, but I sometimes find it easier to discuss things in the dark.”
He could argue the point that the night wasn’t fully dark with the half moon in the western sky, but he held his tongue. The truth was he could use someone to talk to.
“I heard all about what happened at the social. Sorry I wasn’t there, but I’d come back to check on Rachel.” Luke shook his head. “That Billy Morgan has been trouble since the day he arrived in town. It’s time someone put him in his place.”
“I shouldn’t have hit him.”
“Why did you?”
Because I lost control of my temper. “I didn’t want to, but he had me down and wouldn’t quit punching me. I finally got tired of it—no, the truth is, I went berserk. Something in me snapped, and I came up fighting.”
“A man has a right to defend himself.”
Noah shook his head. “This wasn’t defending. This was revenge.”
Luke was quiet for a moment. “You didn’t know Billy when you lived here before, did you?”
“No, he must have come after I left.”
Luke rubbed the stubble on his jaw, making a bristly sound. “Then how could it be revenge?”
Noah clasped his hands tightly together and wrapped them around his knees. He hated talking about his past—remembering how rotten his childhood had been—but the marshal already knew some of his story. “I’m sure you remember what my pa was like. He wasn’t a nice man.”
“Yeah. I had a few run-ins with him before you two left town. He’d drink too much, then start fights.”
“Uh-huh. And he’d come home like that, and any little thing could set him off. I had more beatings as a child than I could count.”
Luke rested his hand on Noah’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about that, son. A man should love his children, teach them right from wrong, not be cruel to them.”
“I think Pa blamed me for my ma’s and sister’s deaths.”
“How so?”
Tears burned Noah’s eyes, but he batted them away. The day his sister died was one of the worst in his life. “Pa had gone hunting when they took sick. I wanted to go for the doctor, but I couldn’t leave them alone. Zoe wasn’t even two years old yet, and Ma was too sick to care for her. When Pa came home and found them dead and me alive, something in him broke. He was never the same. The beatings started soon after that.”
“I’m sorry, Noah. You did the best you could, I’m sure.”
Noah crossed his arms. “I don’t know. I can’t help wondering what would have happened if I’d gone for the doctor when they first took sick.”
“You can ask a million ‘what ifs,’ but it won’t change anything.”
“I know. I just wish I’d been the one who died instead of them.”
Luke lifted his face toward the sky. “They’re safe in the Father’s arms now and will never know pain again.”
“Yeah, I take comfort in knowing that. I told you all that because I want you to understand. When I was about fifteen, a year and a half after we left Lookout, my pa came home drunk and broke one night. He was spittin’ mad that he’d lost what little money he had in a poker game, and he intended to take out his frustrations on me. Well, it had finally dawned on me that I was a whole lot bigger than him and stronger, too. I’d been working some, chopping wood for folks, and I decided then and there that I would never be beaten again.”
“I see. So when Billy had you down on the ground, that fighting instinct kicked in.”
Noah nodded, thankful the man understood. “Yeah. I know that as the town’s shepherd, I’m supposed to be a good example to my flock, but I really bungled things tonight. Maybe it would be better for everyone if I pack up and head back to Emporia.”
Luke draped his arm loosely over Noah’s shoulders. “Don’t hang up your fiddle yet. You told me God sent you here. Do you feel like you’ve fulfilled the work He wanted you to do already?”
Noah barked a laugh. “What work? I’ve been here less than a week.”
“Well, there’s your answer then.”
“What is?”
Luke leaned forward and looked at him. “God sent you here for a purpose. You haven’t completed the task, so leaving now isn’t an option.”
“Oh. I see what you mean.” As much as he’d like to take the easy way out, Noah knew he wouldn’t. “Guess I’ll have to stand up there tomorrow and eat some crow.”
“Like I said, there’s nothing wrong with a man defending himself, and from what I heard, it all started when you stood up for Jack and made Billy stop forcing her to dance. Yeah, maybe you lost control in the fight, but you were defending yourself and an innocent woman. In many people’s eyes, you’ll be a hero.”
“You didn’t see the looks of disappointment I got from other folks.”
Luke stood and stretched. “You’ll never please everyone, Noah. I learned that long ago. So start with pleasing God and being obedient to your calling, and trust God to deal with the people.”
Noah stood, feeling like an old man in his battered body.
“You need to get a good night’s sleep.” Luke opened the front door and held it for Noah to enter. “I, for one, am looking forward to hearing your sermon.”
Noah allowed a small smile. “Yeah, well, don’t set your standard too high.”
They were finally done talking. Jack pulled her pillow out of the window and listened to the creak of the stairs outside her door as Noah climbed them. She hadn’t heard much of what was said, since the men had talked mostly in low tones and Abby’s loud snores filled the room, but she’d gotten the odd feeling that Luke knew far more about Noah than she did.
How was that possible?
Had they talked before?
Why would Noah open up to her papa and not to her?
One thing she had heard was a woman’s name—Zoe. Who was she? Could the parson have a gal he left behind somewhere?
The cool breeze blowing in her window sent goose bumps racing up her arm, and she reached over and lowered the sash. Jack sat there, staring into the dark room, scowling and nibbling one corner of her lower lip. It shouldn’t bother her that some woman might have already claimed his heart. In fact, it didn’t.
What bothered her was that she hadn’t been able to get her story. Being a lawman, Luke was fairly tight-lipped, but if she waited for just the right timing, maybe she could get him to tell her something more about Noah Jeffers. At any rate, tomorrow he’d preach his first sermon, and that alone should give her enough fodder for an article.
Lying back, she smiled. For a woman with skills and wiles, there was always a way to reach her goal.
Chapter 17
Carly dipped the last plate into the rinse water and laid it on the stack on the table. “Is there anything else that needs washing?”
Rachel set the dish she’d just dried on the stack of clean plates and leaned back in her chair, resting her arm across her large belly. “I don’t think so, but the dining table may need to be washed off.”
Ringing out the rag, Carly noticed Rachel lay her head back against the chair and close her eyes. “Is Oscar misbehaving this morning?”
Rachel’s lips curved up in a soft smile. “Not so much. I just can’t believe that breakfast is barely over, and I already feel the need for a nap.”
Carly wiped down the kitchen counters, then rinsed the dishcloth and rung it out again. “Well, why don’t you go lie down? I can finish drying the plates and silverware.”
“I still need to dress for church and fix the girls’ hair.” With obvious effort, Rachel forced herself to sit up and dry another dish.
“Nobody will think bad of you if you were to miss church, considering you will be having a baby any day. I can fix your daughters’ hair.”
“It’s not as easy as it sounds. Emmie isn’t too hard since her hair is too short to braid. Just brush it, but trying to plait Abby’s hair is about as easy as lassoin
g a cloud.”
Chuckling, Carly found a dry towel and quickly started drying the silverware before Rachel could object. Her friend had offered her a job helping her, but that wasn’t such an easy task. Rachel was so used to doing everything that instead of waiting for help, she just went ahead and did things. Carly was going to have to be on her toes and stay alert if she was to be any help around here.
Thinking of braiding Abby’s hair reminded Carly of her last visit when Rachel would struggle to get Jacqueline to sit still long enough for her to fix the girl’s tresses. “Is Abby much like Jacqueline?”
Rachel set the last dried plate on the pile and rolled her eyes. “Far more than I wish she was.”
Remembering how young Jack had shed her dresses and donned her worn overalls every chance she got made Carly realize just how long she’d been away. Jacqueline had grown from a spunky ten-year-old who preferred fishing with her two male friends over school or housework, to a lovely young woman. She ambled into the dining room and washed off the table, chairs, and the buffet. She glanced around the clean room, a feeling of satisfaction rising within her.
A bird’s cheerful song wafted in on the morning breeze, fluttering the white lacey curtains, reminding her of Tillie’s house. She wondered how Pastor Barker was getting along without his wife or her to care for him. Had he moved in with his daughter yet?
Carly breathed a wistful sigh. She’d thought of the old couple as caring grandparents, even though she wasn’t their kin. They’d treated her far better than she’d expected when she first arrived as a newly released convict. Her past hadn’t mattered to them any more than it did to Rachel, but in truth, she wasn’t family. She had no family.
And wasn’t that just as well?
As she walked back into the kitchen, she thought about her brother. Tyson was dead now, God rest his soul, and she couldn’t help feeling relieved. Yeah, he’d let her live with his outlaw gang and kept the men away from her with his vile threats, but he’d used her. Forced her into a life of bank robbery, stealing from hardworking people and being on the run. Thank the Lord those days were behind her.
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