But now…now all she could do was wait.
Wait and pray for her safe arrival and upcoming marriage.
***
Colorado
Simon Lynch walked out of the post office, his shoulders drooping. This was at once the happiest and the saddest day of his life. The urge to dwell on the news he’d just gotten was strong, but the sound of the train whistle drew his thoughts away.
She was coming—almost here in fact—and he couldn’t wait to see her.
If he’d been told not but a year ago that he would be so in love today, he would have laughed. He was a contented preacher who loved his small flock and sharing the Lord’s word to all. But then he’d got it in his head that maybe marriage was something worth considering.
That’s when he’d picked up the matrimonial journal and sought out a wife. He’d read through many advertisements but Alta’s had been the only one to mention her devotion to the Lord. It had struck him, popping out in the bold, black ink. After her first letter, he just knew that she was the one he would marry. It was a wonderful and glorious thing to know that God had hand chosen Alta for him and he for her. Like two matching pieces—a pair.
And now he was going to meet her.
His excitement bubbled over into a brilliant smile and he nodded hellos to those he passed. Some he recognized from church, which gave him a pang of sadness. But he couldn’t think about that now.
Reaching the train depot, he stood anxiously near the main area where the train would pull up. It was there, just in the distance, the lights blurry in the heat rising up off of the tracks. He bounced on his toes in anticipation.
“Someone’s excited for the train to get here.”
Simon looked to the side to see an older man he recognized from town but not from church. “I am.”
“Meeting someone special?” he asked.
“Yes, my fiancé.” He beamed, unable to help the pride in his voice.
“Well, congratulations. I’m surprised you found a woman willing to come out West. It’s a dangerous place, you know.”
“I know,” Simon said, nodding. “But God will protect her, I firmly believe that.”
“Say you’re the preacher over at the church aren’t you?”
Simon opened his mouth to respond but the train whistle mercifully cut him off. “Good day sir,” he said with a grin, and walked up closer to the train.
He had envisioned Alta many times, taking from her descriptions of herself, which were modest and not very detailed. He knew she had blonde hair and blue eyes, that she was short and slight, but other than that he had no idea.
There weren’t likely to be many women getting off of the train though, so he had a feeling he would recognize her right away.
Then, one door down from where he was standing, the flicker of a blue dress, and the back of a blond head appeared. His heart leapt and, as the woman turned, Simon’s he knew in an instant it was her. It was Alta.
Walking as if drawn to her, he stopped a few feet away and asked, “Miss Alta Bishop?”
She broke into a smile that rivaled the sun’s radiance and took the last step down to sand on the platform in front of him.
“Yes, I’m Alta. Are you Simon?”
Her voice was smooth as honey and her blue eyes drew him into their depths that reminded him of a deep, refreshing pool in the summer. Her golden hair was drawn back and twisted up, and her slender build was petite but not weak looking. She was stunning and for a moment he couldn’t breathe let alone respond to her.
“Simon?” she asked again.
“Yes,” he finally said, and then blinked, “I mean, yes, I’m Simon. I’m…your fiancé.”
Chapter 2
Alta couldn’t stop from smiling. Simon was adorable. No, that was too soft and childish of a description, but the way he was staring at her—wide eyed with a foolish grin on his face—was absolutely endearing. She wanted to fall into his arms and plant a kiss on his cheek, but she held back. They still had to get past the awkwardness of this first meeting.
“I—I’m so glad you’re here,” he blurted.
“Me too.” She blushed under his intense gaze. His dark brown eyes bored into hers, as if they could see into her soul. His light brown hair was mussed as he’d pulled off a black bowler hat, but it all made him look more handsome with a touch of boyishness.
“Um,” he blinked several times as if realizing that they should leave from the platform. “I was thinking we could go on a picnic.” He spoke then grimaced. “That is, if you want to. We don't have to I could—”
“A picnic would be lovely,” she said. She could tell that he wanted everything to be perfect for her but she wasn’t a difficult woman to please. A picnic with time to talk and get to know one another was just right.
“Oh, good,” he said, looking relieved. “Then follow me.”
She did and they wound their way through the crowd. When they were just at the edge of the train depot area a hand grabbed her arm.
“Excuse me,” she said, trying to pull free.
“Hold on there, darling,” the low, gravelly voice said. She shuddered at the intimacy with which the man spoke to her, leaning in close so his hot, fowl breath brushed across her cheek.
Frantically, she looked around to where Simon had gone but the man propelled her around a corner and between two buildings, effectively hiding them from view.
“Let me go,” she said in her sternest voice.
“Or what, you’ll tell on me?” He laughed. “Ain’t no one here to listen to you.” His eyes appraised her, making her skin crawl, then he said, “But you’ll do nicely.”
She frowned. What was he saying?
“I'm not going anywhere with you. My fiancé is—”
“There you are,” Simon said, coming around the corner. His eyes grew large when he saw the man’s hand on Alta’s arm. “Let her go.”
“I got just as much right to talk with this pretty lady as you do.”
Simon frowned. “No, actually, you don’t. She is betrothed to me and I’ll kindly ask again—let her go.”
The man did, taking a step back, but his eyes narrowed at her. “Fine. I’ll let her go...for now.” Then he turned and left.
Shaking, Alta fell into Simon’s arms relishing his strong embrace.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, “I didn’t see you were gone immediately.”
“I don’t know what was wrong with that man, but I don’t think he was thinking clearly.” Alta leaned back to look into Simon’s handsome face and offered a shaky smile. “But I’m glad you were here.”
His smile broadened and he held her close for a moment longer before releasing her and taking a step back. “Shall we?”
She nodded and took his arm, thankful that God had provided such a wonderful, strong, and caring man.
***
Simon’s heart was still pounding from the way the man had treated Alta. He was so thankful that he’d noticed she was missing when he did. Then again, he should have been next to her the whole time, something he would remedy for the future. It was proof that this town was in desperate need of the Lord.
He let out a groan, almost not realizing he had until it was too late.
“What’s wrong?” Alta said as they walked toward their picnic spot.
He knew he had to tell her, but he’d hoped to spend a little more time in happiness before he needed to bring down the mood with his news.
“It’s…nothing.”
“I know that it’s not,” she said, her perceptive eyes picking up his emotions despite his mask of calm.
“It’s not good news,” he said.
“It’s all right. I can handle whatever you need to say.” Her chin rose subtly and he loved her even more for her strength.
“Let’s sit and I’ll tell you.”
They spread out the picnic supplies and sat in the shade of a large tree, the scent of nature overpowering every other sense. Simon loved it out here in Colorado even if t
he town of White River was fraught with criminals and lawless men. He’d been called here, of that he was certain. Or at least he had been.
“Simon,” Alta said, her hand resting light on his arm. “Tell me what’s troubling you. I can see it in your eyes.”
He loved that, even though they’d just met in person, he felt comfortable with her—like he knew her. And, I reality, he did know her, through her letters.
“I had some bad news this morning before you came.” He remembered the feel of the letter in his hands, its solid weight feeling heavier than paper with its weighty contents. “I received word from the larger church that had sent me here, the one in Denver. It seems they no longer have the finances to support what I do here. Basically, I’m out of a job.”
He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, the weight of what felt like his failure resting solidly on his shoulders. He couldn’t believe that, just like that, his job as pastor was snatched from him.
“Oh, Simon,” she said, resting a cool, soft hand on his cheek and gently turning his head so he would look at her. “I’m so sorry.”
Her vibrant blue eyes had a calming effect on him and he felt some of the pain recede. “I just feel like a failure. And here I’ve brought you out to be my wife and I don’t have a way to provide for us.”
“God will be our provider,” she said without blinking. “He must have something else planned for you. Something even better.”
Her words washed over him and he felt the anxiety in his chest lessen. How could she do that? Just a few words and he was renewed.
“You’re incredible,” he said.
They looked into each other’s gaze and, before he could stop himself, he’d leaned forward and captured her lips under his. It was a quick kiss, her purity in mind, but he couldn’t help himself. When he pulled back he saw surprise and pleasure on her face. The beautiful tinge of pink on her cheeks made her even lovelier.
“I'm sorry,” he said, feeling sheepish now. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not in the least,” was her quick reply. She laughed at her boldness.
“Alta,” he managed, his heart pounding in his ears, “I didn’t write this to you because I wanted to tell you in person.
“Yes?” she said, leaning toward him in anticipation of what he would say.
“I love you.” His words were strong. They came with the weight of forethought and passion from deep within. He hoped she could see that.
“And I love you,” she replied, equally as earnest.
They went back to their picnic but now Simon felt lighter than a feather. Alta was right; God must have something better planned.
Chapter 3
With the promise of another kiss from Alta and the reality that they would be married soon, Simon left the parish house—the one he would soon need to vacate—to go and pick up his bride. They would be married by the judge in town and then he would begin looking for another means of work. Maybe, if God allowed, he could work another job and still pastor his small flock in town.
It would be a lot of work, especially knowing that he would want to spend as much time with Alta as possible, but he had no other options. He had always wanted to be a pastor, ever since he was a child, and God has seen fit to send him out from the church in Denver a few years back.
White River was a difficult town and his flock hadn’t grown like they had expected it would, but the few who came were faithful. They did what they could to help support him, but his main funds came from the church in Denver.
Well, not anymore.
The morning sunshine mirrored Simon’s heart as he bounded up the steps to open the hotels front door.
“Morning pastor,” someone said and he nodded their way. His mind was focused on his bride though. Sweet Alta with her hair like gold, her eyes like sapphires, and her lips pink like primrose. He laughed at himself, he was a lovesick fool—but that was all right with him.
Inside the hotel he made his way past the front desk and down the hall, stopping at the second door and knocking twice. There was no reply. He frowned, knocking harder just in case Alta had somehow missed the first knock. When she didn’t reply that time either he wondered if she’d fallen asleep.
Glancing left then right, he tried the door, but it was locked.
His pulse picked up and he strode back to the entrance. Maybe he’d missed her and she was sitting in the lobby or in the restaurant? He looked around but didn’t see her. He even walked through the restaurant but saw now sign of her. Had she taken a walk maybe? Decided the morning air was too nice to pass up?
That thought worried him. White River wasn’t a town where a young, unmarried woman should be walking around alone in. He expected that she understood that after the incident yesterday but maybe…
Heart pounding and palms sweaty with worry, he raced to the front desk. “Have you seen the young woman from room three this morning?”
The older, bespectacled man peered up at Simon. “Miss Bishop?”
“Why, yes,” he said, surprised the man remember her name.
“I know all of my customers, Pastor Lynch.”
Simon forced a smile. “Yes. I see that you do. Could we please go check her room? I’m afraid she may have fallen ill or something.”
“I’m not in the habit of opening up customer’s rooms…” He looked displeased and Simon could understand, but there was something wrong. He just knew it.
“Please, sir, we were supposed to meet this morning. We’re…” he swallowed, “we’re getting married today.”
A warm smile washed over the innkeepers face. “I see. Well, we can go check—together mind you. I’ll not be giving you the key.”
“Oh, no sir. I wouldn’t ask that of you.”
They made their way back down the hall at an infuriatingly slow pace and finally the man opened the door after knocking several times again.
The room was in disarray, a chair toppled over and the bedcovers mussed, but not from sleep. On the other side of the room the window stood open.
“No,” Simon gasped.
It was clear what had happened. Someone had kidnapped Alta.
***
Alta groaned, her head pounding. She tried to open her eyes but they felt glued shut. Why did she hurt so much? And why was the world shifting under her? Trying to move, she felt her stiff arms connected behind her.
She was tied up!
Her eyes flew open and she gasped in surprise. She was in the bed of a moving wagon. Above her the canvas covering was stained from the weather and had been patched many times. She could just make out blue sky from the back opening and the shape of a large man sitting at the front.
The urge to cry out, to scream for someone to help her, was strong but she didn’t want the man to know she had woken up just yet. There had to be a way for her to escape—
The thought died just as quickly as it rose in her mind. She had no idea where she was and, by moving her arms to and fro, she could feel the shackles that bound her wrists. Actual metal cuffs, not rope that could be untied or possibly sawed through with a knife. This was…impossible.
How had she gotten here? She thought back to the day before. It had been wonderful—the picnic with Simon, the leisurely walk back to the hotel, the dinner they had shared before he dropped her off at her room with a light kiss on the check and the promise of their wedding in the morning.
It had all been too much to bear. She couldn’t sleep and instead paced her room back and forth until finally she had turned out her light, about to get into bed when there had been a sound at the window. In her haste to escape, she hadn’t been able to unlock her door and the key had fallen to the ground, hidden by the dark.
Then the window had gone sailing up and a large man had come in. She’d tried her hardest to get away but he’d eventually knocked her out. Even at the memory her temple pounded in response making her feel sick to her stomach.
She moved her arms again, rolling further onto her side until her nu
mb limbs could gain better circulation. They were indeed shackled by metal and it seemed as if her feet were tied with rope. Pulling slowly, she found that her shackles were connected to the side of the wagon through a metal loop. There wasn’t even hope that she could pull free.
“Yer awake.”
The man’s voice startled her and her eyes flew to him. It was the same man from the day before. He was half turned in the bench seat, a scowl on his face and three red scratches running down one side of his face. She realized that they were from her nails. At least she’d fought back.
“What have you done? Where are you taking me? Let me go!” She knew she sounded frantic, but she couldn't help it. Every part of her was trembling and she desperately wanted to be free—from the chains and from his gaze.
“I’m taking you to Keystone—to be married,” he spat the last words out then turned his attention back to the road.
To be married? But she was already engaged!
“No! I’m already promised to someone. Take me back to White River immediately,” she demanded.
Keeping his back to her he merely laughed. “Not likely.”
“I demand—”
He cut her off. “I don’t think yer in any place to demand anything, girly.”
He was right and she knew it. She had to escape—somehow. Had to get back to Simon. Where was he? Had this man done something to him first? Hurt him in some way? She closed her eyes, resting her pounding head back against the hard wooden boards that covered the floor of the wagon.
Lord, protect me.
Chapter 4
Simon drained the last of the water from his canteen. He’d need to find a stream to refill soon, but he was close. Very close.
After overcoming his initial shock at finding Alta taken, he’d questioned everyone he could find. No one had known anything until he’d come to a stable hand at the blacksmith’s shop that had seen a man taking a woman to his wagon. The boy had noticed the sight because it looked like something was wrong with the woman besides the fact that it had been past midnight when he’d seen them.
[2016] Widow Finds Love Page 24
