“I’m sure you will. I’m Reverend Greene.” Anthony felt his chest swell at the admission. “I haven’t seen you before. Just move into the area?”
“Name’s Jenkins. Got two fine youngsters at home waitin’ fer me.”
“We’d love to see you and your family in church on Sunday.”
The man shuffled and scratched at his long, matted beard. “Well now, Preacher, we ain’t much for religion an’ all that. But seein’ as how yer bein’ so generous an’ all…”
“Oh no. There are no strings attached to this. But I hope you and your family will come to church anyway. We’d love to have you.”
“Here’s your order, John.” Tucker grudgingly pushed a box filled with supplies across the counter. Anthony glanced inside and frowned at the pouch of tobacco and two bottles of Healy’s Magic Elixir lying on top.
Jenkins nearly leaped at the box, grabbed it up, and headed for the door. “Much obliged, Preacher,” he mumbled before the clanging bell announced his departure.
Tucker shook his head as Anthony handed him a list of his own. “That was a mistake, Preacher. Jenkins is a no-account if I ever seen one.” He moved away from the counter to fill the order. “And I seen plenty of his kind in my day, I can tell ya.”
“Took a lot of guts to ask for credit after you turned him down.”
“Guts.” Tucker snorted and grunted as he lifted a twenty-five-pound bag of flour from the shelf. “He was in here yesterday and the day b’fore and the day b’fore that.”
“That so?” Anthony asked, a twinge of unease creeping into his stomach. “I’ve never seen him around here. Where’s he from?”
A shrug lifted Tucker’s thin shoulders. “Don’t know and don’t care. But he owes me seventeen dollars. And he ain’t gettin’ another thing from this store till he pays up.”
“Do you happen to know where his homestead is?”
“He ain’t got one. Al Garner found the whole slovenly family squattin’ in the old soddy he built back in ‘55 when he first moved into the area. Would have thrown them out, but for the little girl and crippled boy.”
“It was the Christian thing for Al to do. I’m sure the Lord is pleased with his generosity.”
Tucker set the last of Anthony’s supplies in a large crate and snorted again. “It was a fool thing to do if ya ask me. He’ll never get rid of that no-account. Already feeds his family most of the time.”
Anthony tried to contain his irritation, but Tucker’s coldhearted remarks were beginning to go against his grain. “Well, you know the Lord did say if a man asks for your shirt, give him your coat, too.”
Leaning an elbow against the counter, Tucker pointed a finger at Anthony, his eyes glittering with determination. “Let me give ya a little advice, Preacher. Get ready for a cold winter, ‘cause if ya let Jenkins hornswoggle ya, you’ll be goin’ without a coat b’fore the week’s out. And most likely your boots, too.”
“Maybe so,” Anthony shot back. “But I can’t just turn my back on a family in need.”
“Don’t that Bible ya like to quote also say something about a man having to work or he don’t eat?”
“Well…”
Tucker gave a curt nod. “Thought so.” As though it settled the matter, he grabbed the account book and began to tally.
“Make sure you add Jenkins’s supplies to my account, Tuck.”
“That’s what I’m doin’ right now.”
“Good.” Anthony clapped his hat on his head and picked up the heavy crate. “And I hope to see you in church this Sunday. We’ve missed you the last couple of weeks.”
“Been busy, Preacher. Now dontcha forget I warned ya about Jenkins.”
“I won’t. But I think you’ll be surprised when he pays you your money and proves you wrong.” At least he sure hoped the man made good on his promise. Otherwise Anthony would look like the fool Tucker obviously thought him to be.
Straining under the weight of the crate filled with supplies, Anthony stepped from Tucker’s Mercantile into the bright autumn day.
“Why, Anthony, how lovely to see you.”
He nearly dropped the wooden box as Louisa Thomas came out of nowhere and clutched his arm.
“Hello, Louisa. Fine afternoon we’re having, isn’t it?” He smiled politely.
“Just heavenly. I love autumn weather the best.” She beamed up at him and tightened her grip. “My, you are strong, aren’t you?”
He could hold his own, but those supplies were getting awfully heavy. If she didn’t turn him loose pretty soon, he’d be forced to ask her to step aside.
Apparently oblivious to his plight, Louisa continued to smile enchantingly at him. He had to admit the attention was flattering, and he didn’t want to be rude, but…
“Excuse me, Louisa.” His voice sounded strained to his own ears.
“Oh, now don’t tell me you haven’t the time for a little chat.” She pursed her lips into a pretty pout. “I’ve hardly seen you at all since you got back to town.”
“I know, but…”
Anthony felt his grip loosen on the crate and feared any second the entire load would fall and land on the lady’s toes.
“I am absolutely not going to let you go unless you promise to have a picnic with me after church on Sunday.”
He had planned to ask Tarah to accompany him on an outing Sunday, but given the circumstances, perhaps he should accept Louisa’s invitation instead.
“Okay. That sounds fine,” he said with a grunt.
“Wonderful. It’ll give us a chance to catch up on the last two years.” Thankfully she turned loose of his arm to clap with delight. “I’ll make you a delectable lunch. And a chocolate cake for old time’s sake. How does that sound?”
“Sounds pretty good. I’ll be seeing you.”
Anthony heaved the crate into his wagon and paused to rest for a moment. When he turned, he came face-to-face with Louisa.
Startled, he reached out and grasped her arms to keep from knocking her over.
“Why, Anthony,” she said breathlessly, leaning in closer. Her lips pursed as though she expected him to kiss her right there in the street. Abruptly he let her go and retreated a step.
Disappointment clouded her green eyes, but she recovered quickly as the sound of children’s laughter diverted her attention to the schoolyard across the road.
Anthony glanced over Louisa’s shoulder and watched the children calling good-bye to one another and heading off in different directions.
“That’s strange,” he mused. “School shouldn’t be out for a couple of hours yet. I wonder if something’s wrong.”
“Oh, who knows?” Louisa said with a wave of her hand. “Tarah probably decided to give them the rest of the day off.”
“I wonder why though. It isn’t like Tarah to be irresponsible.”
Sidling up next to him, Louisa once again curled her fingers around his arm. “Well, she did run off with that awful Johnny Cooper a couple of years ago.”
Now that was an uncalled-for recollection. Anthony felt himself tense. Downright catty, if he had to give it a name.
For some reason, he felt the need to defend Tarah’s honor, and he resented being put in the position to do so. Still, he couldn’t let the unkind statement go unchallenged.
“If memory serves correctly, Tarah didn’t exactly run off with her pa’s foreman; he kidnapped her and her stepmother.” He wanted to be perfectly clear he didn’t believe Tarah had been defiled in any way—if that’s what Louisa was insinuating. And he had an uncomfortable feeling she might be suggesting that very thing.
A tinge of pink colored Louisa’s cheeks, then she lifted her chin. “Well, she was going to run off with him until she found out he only wanted to get his hands on her pa’s money. At least that’s what she told Myra Rhoades.”
Louisa snorted in a not-so-flattering manner. “And you know Myra couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.”
Feeling the need to put an end to the conversation t
hat bordered dangerously on gossip, Anthony gave her a cheery grin. “Well, praise God, Dell and Doc Simpson caught up with them in time to keep them all safe.”
A smile curved Louisa’s lips. “Oh, I agree completely. I just shudder to think of Cassidy’s babies being born out in the snow and cold. God surely was with them that night.”
Anthony searched her wide, innocent eyes, looking for evidence of guile. He found nothing. Perhaps he had misjudged her. Most folks had a penchant for gossip more than they should. But that didn’t mean Louisa intended anything unkind in her remarks.
“But you must think I’m awful,” she said, mist forming in her eyes. “I should never have mentioned poor Tarah’s unfortunate incident.”
Patting her hand, Anthony gave her a reassuring smile. “Of course I don’t think you’re awful. But perhaps we should leave those things in the past, as I’m sure Tarah would like to do.”
She beamed up at him. “Of course she would like to put it all behind her, poor girl. And I certainly don’t blame her. I know I’d just die if anyone knew such horrid things about me.”
Unease crept through Anthony’s gut. Was she being catty again? At her look of complete innocence, he felt a niggling of guilt. If he was going to be a preacher, he’d have to learn not to judge people so quickly.
Two boys strolled past, heading for the mercantile. Anthony frowned as he overheard their conversation.
“Boy, she gave it to Luke good, didn’t she?”
“Well, I don’t like her. She’s too bossy. Besides, Luke didn’t even do anything this time.”
“Oh dear,” Louisa said, shaking her head, a troubled frown furrowing her brow. “It would appear Tarah’s having difficulty with her students.”
“I’m going over there to see if there’s a problem.”
She made no move to let go of his arm.
Frustrated, Anthony searched for a way to get her to let go without being rude. “Louisa, will you tell Mr. Tucker I’m leaving my team in front of the mercantile while I check on Tarah? I’ll be back to get it in a few minutes.”
Her eyes narrowed but brightened again in an instant. “Of course I will, Anthony. You’re so sweet to be concerned. But then, I guess that’s why you’re the preacher.” She squeezed his arm before letting go. “I’ll tell Mr. Tucker. Now don’t you forget about our picnic on Sunday. I’ll have everything ready so we can leave directly after your wonderful preaching.”
Releasing a breath, he strode toward the school. Concern crept over him. Josie and Luke sat on the steps. At the sober expressions marring each face, Anthony started to worry.
“But we have to do something. It wasn’t fair!” he heard Jo declare, indignation thick in her voice. “We’re not going to let her get away with—”
“What’s going on?” Anthony asked.
Josie’s head shot up, worry flickering in her blue eyes. “Miss St. John isn’t feeling well, so she dismissed us early,” she said. Her gaze darted to her boots.
“Josie, look at me,” he said sternly.
Reluctantly she inched her chin upward until he caught her guilty gaze.
“Now what happened? Is Miss St. John really sick?”
Her slim shoulders lifted. “That’s what she said.”
“Luke?”
“I guess so.”
Something wasn’t right.
“You stay here and wait for me,” he instructed his niece. “I’ll drive you home as soon as I’m sure your teacher’s all right. I mean it, Jo. Stay put. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Uncle Anthony.”
Anthony opened the door. Alarm clenched his heart at the sight of Tarah, head on her desk, sobbing like a child. He closed the distance between them in a few long strides and crouched beside her.
She didn’t look up as he reached forward and drew her close. Slumping against him, she rested her head on his shoulder and cried all the more.
Anthony searched for words of comfort, but finding none, he remained silent. Stroking her hair while she cried, he couldn’t help but think how right this felt. As though she belonged in his arms. Lord, are You trying to tell me something?
He drew in a breath, the lavender scent of her hair filling his senses.
“D–do you have a handkerchief?” Tarah pulled away and looked at him, her eyes luminous from the tears.
“Huh?”
“Something I can wipe my nose with?”
Rats! He didn’t. He gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry.”
She scowled.
Should he offer her his sleeve?
Just as he was about to suggest it, he had a better idea. He pulled his arm from around her shoulders and stood. He took out his pocketknife, then untucked a corner of his shirt. While Tarah watched with a furrowed brow, he swiped at the cloth until a piece came off in his hand.
Once again, tears pooled in her eyes as she accepted the makeshift handkerchief and blew her nose. “Thank you. That was sweet.”
Anthony’s heart soared as he stared into her red, splotchy face. “What’s all this about?”
“I’m a bad teacher, Anthony.” She hiccupped.
“I’m sure that’s not true, Tarah. Toby’s learning to read so well. He loves school.”
“But the discipline,” Tarah countered. Her shoulders shook as she began to sob again.
“Come on, now,” Anthony said gently, crouching beside her once more. “It can’t be that bad.” He reached for her, then pulled back as she shot from her chair.
“It can’t, huh?” Her eyes flashed as she glared down at him. “Do you know what I just did?”
Anthony gaped at the quick switch from sorrow to anger.
“I just took my ruler and smacked Luke on the hand for something Josie did.” She gave him a satisfied nod. “You see, I can tell by the look on your face how shocked you are.”
Rising from his crouched position, Anthony hesitated a moment, not sure he wanted to ask the question begging to be voiced. He drew a breath. “What exactly did Jo do?”
She spun around. “Just look at the back of my dress!”
Anthony groaned. So that’s why the girl was so eager to gather the eggs this morning. “But why did you punish Luke if Jo put the egg in your chair?”
All the steam seemed to leave the slender young woman, and she dropped back into her chair. “I—I just assumed it was Luke. He’s been so horrid ever since I paid him to be good.”
“You paid?”
She nodded, and her eyes filled up again. “He didn’t have the money to pay for Josie’s ribbons—you remember the ones he inked that first day of school—so I offered to give it to him if he would just stop instigating trouble. I—I thought it sounded like a good solution.”
Several questions circled in Anthony’s head as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing.
“And he didn’t keep his end of the bargain?”
“Oh yes. For as long as it took to pay for the ribbons. Then he was worse than any child I’ve ever seen, except maybe—” She stopped midsentence.
“Josie,” Anthony supplied.
“Yes.” Her voice was barely audible as she averted her gaze.
“Do you mind my asking why you didn’t just tell your folks? Seems like your pa could deal with Luke with one trip to the woodshed.”
“I didn’t want them to think I couldn’t handle it,” she said. “Besides, I don’t want Pa and Ma to worry. They have enough to think about with the new baby coming.”
“Are there problems with Cassidy’s, er, condition?”
“No. But my ma died having Jack, so Pa worries.”
Now that was exactly the kind of thing Dell should have come to Anthony about. As preacher, he could have prayed with him and quoted the scriptures about God not wanting His people to be anxious. When would these people take him seriously? He blew out a frustrated breath.
Tarah glanced up, questions written on her face.
Anthony shook his head, inwardly berating himself for thin
king about his own problems at a time like this. “I’ll take care of Jo,” he said firmly, “so you won’t have to worry about her causing any more problems.”
A shrug lifted Tarah’s shoulders. “It doesn’t matter, because I’m quitting. Louisa Thomas wanted the position when they gave it to me. Well, she can have it.” Tarah stood. “Thank you for being so kind. I’m sorry about your shirt.”
“The shirt doesn’t matter, Tarah.” He placed a hand on her arm. “Things will straighten out. Don’t quit just yet.”
“I can’t face the students after what I did today.”
Compassion filled Anthony at her self-loathing. “Listen, how about if I teach your students for a couple of days while you pull yourself together?”
Tarah’s full lips parted as she drew in a breath. “I can’t ask you to do that! Your ma needs you at home. Besides, won’t the town council object?”
“I’ve been planning to pass on more responsibility to my brothers anyway. Blane’s old enough to take care of things now. And I’ll be there to help out at night. As for the town council, I’ll talk to Mr. Tucker and Mr. Gordon before I leave town. And you can talk to your pa since he’s head of the council.”
Once again, her eyes filled. “I—I just don’t know, Anthony. The look on Luke’s face…” Tears rolled down her cheeks, and suddenly she was in his arms again.
“Shh…” He held her to him, stroked her hair, and felt as though he would never breathe again.
The door swung open, and Anthony caught Josie’s stormy gaze. Behind her, Luke still sat on the step. Jo placed her hands on her small hips and stomped her foot. “Are we ever going home?”
Tarah disengaged herself from his arms and gathered her books from her desk. “I—I have to go. Ma will worry when the children get home early.”
“Do you want me to come tomorrow?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Tarah nodded. “Thank you, Anthony.”
Her lovely gaze captured his for a moment. She gave him a tremulous smile and pressed her fingers lightly to his arm. Before he could recover from the shock of her touch, she walked past Josie and left the little school without a backward glance. Luke stood and followed.
Brides of Kansas Page 20
