by Natalie Dean
This feeling lasted until they walked inside the parlor of the hotel. There, in the sitting room, clearly looking and feeling much better than he had that morning, was the dark-haired boy who claimed to know Agatha.
Agatha stopped in her tracks the moment she saw him. Elijah turned to her and saw her face become a ghostly shade of pale.
The boy, however, gave them a smirk that could only be called mischievous. He stood from his chair and moved towards them, his hand outstretched.
“Mrs. Matthews tells me you’re the pastor around here,” he said. “My name’s Luke Crenshaw.”
“Elijah Rhodes,” Elijah said shaking the boy's hand. “And this is my fiancé, Agatha Thorne.”
Luke blinked when Agatha’s name was given. He recovered easily, however, and gave her a wider and altogether more sinister smile.
“Miss Thorne, then,” he said taking her hand in his. “I believe we’ve met before.”
“I…I suppose it’s possible,” Agatha said. “I knew a lot of people back home.”
Agatha pulled her hand away from Luke’s and stepped back towards the hall.
“If you’ll both excuse me, I…I need to dress for dinner.”
Without so much as a backward glance at the two men, Agatha fled down the hallway towards her room.
Elijah stared at the spot where she had disappeared, wondering whether he should follow her. Find out once and for all what had her so terrified. Before he could decide, a voice spoke from behind him.
“She always was a jittery girl,” Luke Crenshaw said. “A scared little rabbit. Ready to run at the first sign of a predator.”
Elijah turned back to the boy who now stood with his hands in his pockets, that damnable smirk plastered on his face.
“You have met before then,” Elijah said hesitantly.
“Oh, yes,” Luke said. “Though she wasn’t Miss Thorne then. No, back in New York she was Agatha McPherson. I have to say, in a thousand years, I never thought I’d find her here, engaged to a pastor of all things.”
“And why is that?” Elijah asked.
The boy’s smile widened.
“You don’t know?” Mr. Crenshaw asked.
“I suppose not.”
Crenshaw let out a laugh nearly as sinister as his smile.
“Well then, take a seat, Pastor,” he said. “Let me tell you everything you need to know about your new bride. And, after you’ve heard my story, you just might want to thank me…”
Chapter 6
Agatha sat on the bed in her room, her dress for supper laid out at the end, untouched.
Since she’d entered the room, her hands had been shaking with nervous energy. She was too anxious to get dressed. She was not sure if she would be able to go to dinner. As a matter of fact, she didn’t know if she could get up from the bed at all.
Agatha thought that she would never see Luke Crenshaw again. And now, here he was. And, if she knew Crenshaw, he wouldn’t hesitate to destroy the life she had worked to build for herself here. Especially not if there was something in it for him.
But, that was the thing she couldn’t work out. Why had Luke Crenshaw come all the way out west? He had a perfect job at the factory. He was the owner’s most trusted foreman, his right-hand man. He wouldn’t have left unless something had happened.
If he’d been forced to leave New York, whatever the reason, that meant he was desperate. Luke Crenshaw was the sleaziest of rats under the best of circumstances. But, when he was cornered, he was like a vicious animal. Ready to destroy anything that crossed him.
And, with everything he knew about Agatha, he could destroy her whole future. What’s more, he could destroy Elijah as well.
Agatha had long since stopped worrying about what might happen to her. But, Elijah was a good man. Kinder and gentler than any man she’d known her entire life. He didn’t deserve the shame Crenshaw could bring.
All these thoughts chased themselves around in her mind so quickly that she couldn’t catch hold of one. She was still trying to string them together in some coherent fashion when a knock sounded on her door.
“Agatha?” Elijah’s voice called. Her cheeks grew warm, and her heart began to race. “Agatha, please open the door. I need to speak with you.”
At those words, Agatha pushed herself straight up on the bed. He knew. She could tell by the sound of his voice.
If that was true, there was nothing left for her to do.
Hands shaking, she pushed herself up from the bed and, slowly, made her way towards the door.
Opening it slightly, she looked up at his tall frame. Light brown hair tinged only slightly with gray falling into his brown eyes.
She tried to read the expression on his face but, for the first time since she had met Elijah, his eyes looked completely closed, neutral. With a deep breath, she opened the door wider, and he stepped inside.
He didn’t say a word until she closed the door behind him.
“I’ve been speaking to Luke Crenshaw,” he said.
“What did he say?” she asked. She was very aware that her voice was shaking. If Elijah hadn’t known that she had something to hide before, he certainly did now.
“He said a lot of things,” Elijah told her. “But, before we discuss it, I’d like to hear the truth from you.”
Biting down hard on her lip, Agatha nodded, moved to the bed and sat down, with her back towards Elijah. If she was to tell him the truth, she knew she would not be able to look at him as she did.
“You have to understand,” she said slowly. “My mother was sick. The doctors said there was nothing they could do. She was in a lot of pain, and the pain medication cost more money than we could afford. I was working at the factory then. Crenshaw was the foreman in charge of us. He’d taken a…fancy to me.”
As she said the words, a shiver ran through her, she wrapped her arms around herself, hoping to stem the chill.
“He said that he could get medicine to ease my mother’s pain if I did things for him. Things…things no proper lady should do. I know I shouldn’t have. But, I couldn’t stand to see my mother like that. I couldn’t stand to hear her crying out in her sleep at night or sobbing when she thought I wasn’t listening. So…I agreed.”
“That would have been two years ago,” Elijah said softly. “Before your mother died?”
Agatha nodded.
“He was at least good to his word. He gave her the medicine,” she said. “But…then…just after mama died, I found things out about him. About how he had been stealing money from the factory owner. He had receipts, doctored books. I didn’t have much schooling, but I knew enough to know what it all meant. When Luke found out that I knew, he had me fired. And, he said if I ever told anyone, he would have me arrested.”
“Is that why you wrote to me?” Elijah asked.
“Yes,” Agatha said. Her voice was hollow and broken even to her own ears. “I didn’t have anywhere to go. I had no money, and the town I lived in was small. Most people worked at the factory. Gossip had already started about Luke and me there.”
“But, that’s not all, is it, Agatha?” he asked. “There’s something else. Something Luke wants from you now.”
She felt her cheeks grow warm. She had prayed to God that Luke wouldn’t know about the books she had taken. Ever since she saw him the night before, she’d tried to make up all sorts of reasons that he could be in Laramie Wyoming. Told herself it was a coincidence.
Now she knew coincidences of that kind were nearly impossible. She knew what she should have known from the start. Luke Crenshaw would never let her go. Not given what she knew.
“I…I took some of the pages from the books he’d doctored,” Agatha said. “I was going to show them to the owner of the factory. I was going to try and prove to him that Luke was stealing from him. But…”
“Luke, had you fired before you could?” Elijah asked.
Agatha, unable to speak anymore, simply nodded.
A long stretch of silence passed
between them.
Finally, she heard the creaking of boards on the wood floor of her room. Her back still turned towards Elijah, she felt him come close behind her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked softly.
“Isn’t it obvious why I didn’t?” Agatha asked, her voice wavering slightly as tears threatened to cloud her eyes. “No decent man would marry a woman who has been soiled. Back home, I saw how men looked at me after they knew what I’d done. And I knew, a pastor, someone with a congregation and a town of his own that looked up to him…I could never hope to become the wife of a man like you. Not with my past. So, it was easier to pretend it hadn’t happened. It was easier to pretend I was still pure.”
That word, ‘pure,' barely made its way out of her mouth before the tears began to roll down her cheeks. She bit her lip to keep from sobbing out loud.
Another silence stretched between them. Then, she heard Elijah’s footsteps once again.
This time, his shadow crossed over her as he made his way towards the bed. She held her breath as he reached out a hand and touched her cheek.
His gray eyes looked into hers, and she was more than a bit surprised to see the flicker of understanding on his face.
“Agatha,” he said softly. “You are pure. One of the purest souls I’ve ever met.”
“How can you say that?” Agatha asked. “How can you say that now that you know what I- “
“You did what you had to do to help your mother,” he said gently. “Anyone in that position would have done the same. God does not blame you for that. And neither do I.”
Agatha looked into his face searching for some hint that he was lying to her. Some hint of disgust that betrayed the gentle words he’d spoken. It wasn’t there.
Instead, the ghost of that warm smile she had come to love flickered across his face.
In that moment, she wanted to throw her arms around him. To hold him and thank him and never let go. But, something held her back. Something that would not let her joy, their joy, be fully realized.
“I doubt your congregation will see it that way,” she said. “A pastor doesn’t need a wife that half the town will gossip about.”
“That’s what Mr. Crenshaw believes as well,” Elijah said. “He told me to hand both you and the books you’ve taken over to him. If I do, he won’t say a word about the woman I almost married.”
“And if you don’t?”
“There’s a newspaper in town now,” Elijah said. “If I refuse to hand you over along with the books he doctored, he’ll print an article about your affair in detail. Everyone in town will read it.”
Agatha bit her lip again and looked down at her feet.
“It seems as though you don’t have much choice then,” she said.
“Not necessarily.”
Elijah’s voice sounded much hardier than she had expected it to. And, when she looked up at him, he was giving her a mischievous smile to marvel even that of Luke Crenshaw.
“What do you mean?” Agatha asked.
“I mean, I happen to have a friend at the town newspaper,” Elijah said. “And, if you help me write an article about Luke Crenshaw’s misdeeds, we may be able to beat him at his own game.”
Chapter 7
It was nearly sunset when Elijah Rhodes made his way out of the hotel. The streets of Laramie were dark and nearly deserted. The only light shone from the new saloon building which also produced the distant sound of laughter and poorly played piano music.
Elijah passed it and made instead for the small building on the saloon’s right-hand side. The building that held the hastily built office of the newly formed Laramie Gazette.
Sam Jenkins, a former farm hand at the Miles Ranch just outside of town started the paper just one month before. It consisted of only one page and hand full of articles.
He knew that Sam could not afford to turn down any hint of news. And this was the closest Laramie had ever come to having a major scandal.
Elijah approached the door and knocked, praying Sam had not set the type for the morning paper yet.
Luckily the door opened quickly. That told Elijah that Sam had been at his desk when he’d knocked. That meant the young man was still writing.
“Pastor!” Sam said, eyes widening in surprise. “What can I do for you?”
Sam was young and wiry with ruddy skin, bright hazel eyes and dark hair. He looked like the sort of boy who would be at home on a ranch but, certainly not in a newspaper office.
“I think I may have a story for you,” Elijah said. “May I come in?”
“Of course!” Sam said, eagerly ushering the pastor in. “Right now, my lead in for tomorrow’s paper is the horse auction. I’ll take anything else you can give me.”
“Good,” Elijah said.
Sam returned to his desk, and Elijah moved to sit in a small chair just in front of it.
“Now, what’s this you’ve got to show me?” Sam asked.
Elijah produced the article which Sam took and spent more than enough time reading.
Agatha had written most of it. Elijah had only added things to soften the bits of information he thought the residents of Laramie might find disturbing or upsetting about her.
Though the article did not mention Luke Crenshaw’s affair with Agatha, it did insinuate that he had a habit of preying upon poor young women. Something Mrs. Matthews and widows like her in the town would not take kindly to.
Sam read the article over several times, his eyes growing wider each time.
“And you have proof of these accusations?” Sam asked finally, looking up at Elijah.
“I do,” Elijah said. Dutifully, he produced the pages of the book Agatha had given to him. “That should be enough to prove theft from his former employer. The rest is word from my fiancé. But, I can promise you that she is telling the absolute truth.”
Sam looked up at him for half a moment before setting the papers down next to the article on his writing desk.
“Well, I suppose if you can’t trust the word of a pastor you can’t trust anyone,” he said. “But, I’ll have to send a telegraph to a friend of mine in New York to be sure. He works near Angelica. If there’s any news there about this Mr. Crenshaw, he would know about it.”
“So, the article will appear in the paper tomorrow?” Elijah asked praying that his voice did not sound too anxious.
“Assuming my friend responds tonight,” Sam said. “But, that shouldn’t be a problem.”
With a word of thanks, Elijah bid goodbye to Sam and made his way back out to the street. As the sounds from the saloon filled the air, he wondered, not for the first time whether what he was about to do, was altogether right.
A pastor, of all people, should not be involved in spreading slander.
But, then, he reminded himself that it was only slander if it wasn’t true. And, Agatha’s documents proved that the accusations she’d made against Crenshaw couldn’t be anything but true.
Besides that, whatever way he looked at it, this was the only way to get them out of Crenshaw’s trap. The only way, at least, that did not involve either sending Agatha away or creating a scandal in the town.
If he was honest with himself, sending Agatha away quietly would have been the most obvious solution. Hadn’t she offered to leave after she told him the truth? And if he agreed to let her, who would blame him? She had lied to him, after all. About her name, her past and a good many things besides.
But, the moment that Agatha had made that quiet offer in the room at the hotel, he had dismissed it immediately. And, now, as the noise of the saloon faded into the background, he realized that it wasn’t logic that caused him to want Agatha to stay. It wasn’t even the Christian charity that he always tried his best to practice.
It was a tiny pang in his heart at the thought of losing her. A deep emptiness at the idea of never seeing her again.
When he reached the small room at the back of the church and set his bag down, he realized something he had never tr
uly considered before.
He was falling in love with Agatha Thorne.
The thought made him stop just inside the threshold and hesitate before he closed the door behind him.
This feeling was not something he’d ever truly anticipated experiencing.
He’d always told himself that love was a choice. An action more than an emotion. He knew that, when he married, he would choose to love his wife. And, he supposed that was still true.
But, now, as he closed the door behind him, taking stock of his quickly beating heart. The way his palms grew warm when he thought about the rare smiles Agatha gave him. Or the way she twisted her long brown hair around her fingers when she was anxious.
Now, he realized, he had not only made the choice to love his fiancé but, his heart and everything else in him agreed with that choice. He truly felt this love. With everything in him.
And, as he closed his eyes to sleep that night, he prayed to God that this new feeling would not disappear with the morning light.
Chapter 8
“Out! I want you out now! No discussion!”
Agatha startled at the screeching voice echoing from the hallway. She had just dressed for breakfast and was about to button her sleeve when the scream sounded.
An anxious sounding male voice answered Mrs. Matthews. Too low for Agatha to make out what it said. In either case, the man speaking did not get far before Mrs. Matthews began to screech again.
“I don’t want to hear your explanations!” Mrs. Matthews screamed as Agatha finished the last button of her shirt and slowly opened the door. “You’re a good for nothing thief, and I won’t suffer you in my establishment. Stay in one of the spare rooms at the saloon. That’s where your kind belongs.”
Agatha stepped out of her room and, as quietly as she could, made her way out towards the parlor.
“But, you don’t understand,” the male voice she’d heard earlier pleaded. “It’s not true! Not a word of it! And even if it were, I wouldn’t think you could afford to turn away good business.”
