“I have a feeling he’s the one who turned my horse loose. I had to walk back here.”
Rebekah frowned. Nate was getting a bit ridiculous. “Why would Thomas do something like that?”
“You tell me. You seem to think he’s a good man.”
She crossed her arms, her own anger starting to ignite. She fought it back, knowing full well they’d never get anything accomplished if both remained irate. “He is a good man. He’s been a friend to us since we got here.” She swallowed hard to fight the rising tears. “I might have burned to death if it weren’t for him.”
Nate’s head reared back at her statement. His anger crumbled right before her eyes as his face smoothed until he almost looked relaxed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
She sniffled, then nodded. “I don’t understand the tension between you two. What happened to create so much distrust? If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think you two hated each other.”
In silence, he blinked several times. Then he finally shrugged. “I don’t guess I can think of any one thing that started it. But from the moment we met, there seemed to be some kind of strain between us.”
As he answered in a calm voice, her own tension eased. “Well, I think you two need to get it worked out before it gets any worse. You both are good men. You should be friends, not enemies.” She cocked her head as she remembered why he came in the first place. “And what makes you think Thomas had anything to do with Zimmer’s mill or your horse?”
His eyes narrowed, and she knew she’d ignited his anger again, making the bruises on his face darken once more. “A couple men told me they saw him there. The place was completely empty except for me, and apparently Thomas. Who else would have done it?”
She still didn’t completely understand his logic. “Why would he have a reason to be at Zimmer’s mill?”
“That’s exactly what I want to ask him.” Nate headed for the door. “I’ve got work to do. If you see Thomas, tell him I need to talk to him.”
“Wait.”
They still had something else to discuss, and she wanted to hear his side of the story. When he stopped and turned, she tried to keep her heart from racing. He was already angry. She didn’t want to add fuel to the fire, but she had to know.
“I’ve got a question for you.”
His head tilted as he examined her face. “All right.”
Despite her efforts, her heart continued to race. She prayed he had a good answer for her. “I’ve heard rumors from several people that the sheriff nearly arrested you the other night for prowling around and acting suspicious.”
There. She’d said it. But his expression told her he knew what she would ask before she got the question out, which didn’t calm her heart at all. The rumors must be at least somewhat accurate.
“Funny how that news got out when only two people knew.”
A hard knot formed in her stomach. “So it’s true?”
He snorted as he shook his head, his mouth twisted in scorn. “Yes, it’s true. But the sheriff had no business arresting me. If he took everyone into custody who wandered the streets at night, his jail would be filled to overflowing with half the men in town.”
She hated feeling nosey and distrustful, but she had to ask. “Why were you wandering the streets?”
The look he gave her made her feel as though he was trying to see if he could trust her. She hoped he knew he could.
His lips twitched. “I saw someone else sneaking around the streets looking suspicious.”
She peered into his eyes, trying to read him better. “Are you teasing me?”
This time he gave her a tiny smile. “No. I saw someone acting strangely, so I followed.”
Dare she ask? “Who?”
He hesitated. “I’d rather not say right now.”
She decided not to push. He’d tell her if or when he was ready. “I hate to tell you this, but the whole town is talking about it. Especially now that word is out about the threatening notes.”
He looked startled. “What do you mean ‘word is out’? People know about the notes that Mr. Zimmer and the Peters family received?”
So he hadn’t heard. She wondered about that, since he didn’t seek her out right away. “They only learned about those notes after one of the mine owners found a note shoved under his front door. He was furious. When he announced it to the town, Mr. Peters confessed that he’d received one too.”
“But they don’t know about the one to Mr. Zimmer?”
“They must. His name was mentioned.”
Nate took a moment to think. “But Mr. Zimmer is still mostly unconscious, so I doubt he said anything. How did they find out about his note?”
She shrugged, now as confused as Nate looked. “I don’t know. What I do know is that everyone is thinking you have something to do with the notes.”
Air blasted from his mouth as he slammed his fist onto the counter. “Unbelievable. I try to help the town and end up taking the blame for the trouble.” As far as she could tell, his expression wavered between anger and disappointment. “I can’t help them if they look at me with suspicion.”
By his voice, Nate was more hurt than annoyed. She scrambled to think of something to say that would lend comfort. Only one thing kept playing through her mind, but she wasn’t sure how he’d react.
“People might start trusting you again if you, well—”
His head tilted slightly as his eyes narrowed. “If I’d what?”
She swallowed. “Come to church with me,” she rushed out.
His body stiffened. “I don’t know if I want to.”
She was afraid of that answer. His voice was tinged with aversion. Still, she wanted him to confess his feelings. “Why?”
He paced, then slapped his hand on the counter. “How could your God allow something like this to happen? Mr. Zimmer’s a good man. My dad and brother were good men. And your God let them die.”
His pain tore through her. She wished she could wipe it away. “He’s your God too.”
Nate snorted. “Why would I want anything to do with a God who hurts those He claims to love? There are so many examples of reasons not to trust Him.” He pointed a finger at her. “You’re one of them.”
Rebekah caressed the scar on her cheek. “I don’t blame God for what happened to me. God doesn’t make people do evil things. We do that all on our own. He gave us the right to choose for ourselves, to do right or wrong, to choose for Him or against Him.” She peered into his eyes hoping to make him understand. “Don’t you know the joy He feels when we choose correctly?”
Anger still coiled his fingers into a fist, though the irritation had eased from earlier. “And when we don’t?”
Sadness put an ache in her heart. “Did your father ever shed tears at a bad decision you’d made?”
She remained silent, watching several emotions roll across his face, from grief to fondness. The smallest of smiles pulled at the corners of his mouth.
“More than once,” he finally managed just over a whisper. “I think the worst time was when my grandfather died. I was about twelve, I guess. We were supposed to go to the funeral, but I refused to go.” He shook his head. “A couple days before he died, Grandpa had scolded me soundly for something I’d done. Funny thing is, I can’t even remember what I’d done wrong. I only remember being so mad at him that I said I hated him.”
Nate was so deep into his memory, Rebekah didn’t say a word to interrupt or draw him away from remembering. She choked up when she saw his eyes shimmering.
“Dad didn’t make me attend the funeral. I sat home by myself, at first still stewing in my anger. Before long, that anger turned to regret. I was eaten up with grief over how I’d acted, knowing that the last memory Grandpa had of me was my angry words.” He ran his hand over his face. “It got worse when Dad came home, and I told him I wanted to go to the cemetery. Dad dropped onto a chair, and tears started streaming down his face.” Nate’s throat worked to swallow several times. �
��I’ve never forgotten that day. It’s played a big part in how I’ve reacted in other situations.”
The rasp in Nate’s voice let Rebekah know how much even now it affected him. She reached to touch his hand. “And after you’d disappointed your father, he still loved you anyway, didn’t he?”
Nate let out a slow breath as he nodded.
She let him think about it for a bit. “Just as God still loves us when we disappoint Him, we need to continue loving and trusting Him, no matter what.” She stepped close. “Come to church with me, Nate. Not only will it go a long way to show the townspeople the kind of man you really are”—she placed her hand over his heart—“it might go a long way in healing this.”
Patting his chest lightly, she gave him a trembling smile before walking away. She’d said all she could think to say. The rest was up to him. He had to make the choice. As she prayed he’d make the right one, she dared not think about how much his decision mattered.
Chapter Twenty-four
After tying his horse’s reins to a tree branch, Nate stood in front of the church, staring, unsure of whether or not he could make himself enter. The spot over his heart where Rebekah had placed her hand still burned. That warmth was the very reason he’d managed to make it this far. Her words had continued to echo through his mind the last few days until he thought he’d go mad. Worse yet, he knew she was right. She’d only repeated what his mother had told him time and again.
Making a decision, he looked down at his shirt and denims, brushing out a couple wrinkles as though he had to clean himself up to enter. Heart hammering, he took a deep breath and headed for the door, feeling very much like he strode through quicksand with each step.
Once inside, sweat broke out on his forehead as he waited for the reactions of those in attendance. The pastor and Perry both gave vigorous handshakes while clapping him on the back. A few men he remembered meeting did the same while others stood back and watched.
Mrs. Weaver wrapped him in a hug before holding him at arm’s length. “Plan on joining us for a picnic by the river.”
“I will. Thank you.”
He tried not to look around much as accusatory stares stabbed him over and over, but once he saw Rebekah and her wide smile, nothing else mattered. As she placed her Bible and reticule on the pew beside her, he wished she didn’t plan to sit so close to the front. But he headed toward her anyway.
“Do you mind if I sit with you?”
Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears. “Not at all.” She briefly gripped his hand. “I’m glad you came.”
Seeing someone move close behind her, Nate pulled his gaze from her. For the first time, he noticed Thomas standing in the same pew as where Rebekah planned to sit. Nate watched Thomas for several seconds, wondering if he had been at last Sunday’s service. Finally, he nodded and extended his hand. “Thomas.”
Thomas accepted his handshake. “Nate.”
The greeting wasn’t much, but it was a start. At the very least, Rebekah seemed pleased with the effort. Thomas moved to the center of the pew with Rebekah following. Nate was about to join them when someone grabbed him around the waist. He turned to find Andrew grinning up at him.
“Hi, Nate. I haven’t seen you all week. Where you been?”
Andrew’s loud greeting pulled everyone’s attention toward them, making Nate tense up again. The last thing he needed was to have all the adults hear a child question his whereabouts. He motioned for Andrew, and the boy nestled between him and Rebekah. Andrew again grinned up at Nate, who couldn’t resist ruffling the boy’s hair.
“Good to see you, Andrew.”
Andrew scowled. “You’re supposed to call me Andy, remember?”
Nate winked. “Right. Sorry.”
The lady at the piano began playing, ending all further conversation. The off-key notes clashed, nearly making his ears shrivel, yet the exuberant woman acted as though she didn’t notice a thing. The pastor motioned for them to stand and led them in singing. Nate had hoped the singing would have drowned out the sour notes, but as the voices rose in song, the woman played louder. He glanced at Rebekah, who only raised her brows at him as she continued with the congregation. The whole thing became humorous, lifting Nate’s spirits as well as the corners of his mouth.
After enduring yet another clamorous song, the pastor asked them to be seated and opened the message in prayer. His mind already wandering, Nate recalled that the piano player had received a note last week. Interesting that she made her way from the piano bench to sit next to an older gentleman. Could he be the man the note spoke about, maybe written in a way similar to the one Cora had received? He’d have to mention it to Rebekah after the service.
The pastor had already started reading Scripture when Nate pulled his mind back to the message. Andrew held Rebekah’s Bible so they all could read along. Something the pastor said about not grieving the Holy Spirit grabbed his attention, and he started reading where Andrew pointed.
“Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil speaking be put away from you, with all malice; and be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.”
Nate raised his brows as he reread some of the text, feeling as though the verses were talking directly to him. He had often thought the same thing as a youth attending services with his mother. Many times, he’d wondered if his mother had spoken to the preacher about what he should preach on.
“Let me draw your attention to one of the smallest words in those verses,” the pastor continued. “Often it’s the small words that are the most important.” He looked down at his Bible again. “Let all bitterness, and all malice be put away from you.” The pastor pulled off his spectacles and leaned over the pulpit, taking time to scan all the faces. “All doesn’t mean you can hold on to even a tiny part of your anger. All doesn’t mean a little bitterness is all right, especially if no one else knows about it. All means every last bit and portion.”
The drone of the pastor’s voice continued as Nate examined his own anger and bitterness. How long had he been holding on to his destructive emotions? Around three years? Trouble was, he was the only person being hurt by them. Or was he?
Andrew squirmed, pulling Nate’s thoughts to him and all children. They rarely held grudges or anger. Children were usually quick to forgive, their love evident. Somewhere along the way to adulthood, that important quality was lost, as was trust. What a shame.
The pastor’s chuckle drew Nate’s attention back to the message. What had he missed? He’d have to try harder to stay focused.
“I have this shirt.” The pastor wore a strange smile. His wife put her head down, her body already shaking with laughter. “It’s my favorite. You can tell by the condition it’s in.” He nodded. “It has holes near the collar and on the sleeves. Some places are so worn, there’ll be holes there before long too. This shirt is so faded, it’s difficult to tell what color it used to be.”
Many sitting in the pews were laughing and nodding. Some of the women were bumping their husbands or outright pointing at them for all to see.
The pastor grinned. “I see I’m not the only one who loves wearing the most comfortable shirt I own.” He winked at a woman sitting in front. “Much to my wife’s dismay, I wear this shirt nearly every day, and I refuse to let her throw it out.”
His wife turned to let everyone see her expression as she nodded her agreement.
The pastor chuckled again. “She’s warned me that one day someone will see me in this shirt and think I don’t get paid enough.” He quickly looked up. “That’s not a hint, by the way.”
The congregation roared with laughter. The pastor smiled, patiently waiting for them to get calm. Then his face grew serious as he leaned over the pulpit.
“How many of us, right at this moment, are wearing our anger, malice, and bitterness like an old comfortable shirt?” He shook his spectacles at them. “Who among us keep our unhealthy emotions beca
use they’re comfortable? We’ve grown used to them. We wouldn’t know life any other way because we’ve kept them close for so long.”
The church had grown incredibly quiet, and so had the pastor’s voice.
“That’s called sin, people.” He glanced around. “How many of us would walk around in the middle of summer on the hottest day wearing a blanket? None of us would. We’d want to throw it off as quickly as possible.” He tapped the top of the pulpit with his finger. “It should be the same with our sins. Why carry them around and get comfortable with them? We should treat them as a blanket on a hot day and throw them off, begging God’s forgiveness.”
He looked at his wife again, his love for her evident in his expression. “My wife doesn’t know it yet, but when we get home, I’m throwing away this old, worn-out shirt. I don’t want to be that comfortable again. Not when I have something new and wonderful waiting to take its place.”
Amens echoed through the building. Nate added one of his own. He hadn’t been so stirred by a message in a long time. The hard part would be applying what he’d heard to his life. Thankfully, the message ended a few minutes later. He wanted time to think about the pastor’s words.
But Andrew wasn’t about to let that happen. As soon as the last song had been sung, the boy grabbed his hand, shaking and pulling at the same time.
“Come on, Nate. I brought an extra fishing pole for you. Mama said if we caught enough she’d invite you to supper tomorrow night.”
Nate looked at Rebekah and received a nod of affirmation. He tugged Andrew toward him and bent to see him eye to eye, his face as serious as he could muster. “That’s an awful lot of pressure. How many do we need to feed all of us?”
Andrew’s mouth twisted as he peered into the air for his answer. “I think six ought to be enough.” He turned to Rebekah. “Don’t you think, Bek?”
“I would imagine that would be plenty.” She lifted a shoulder. “I might even accept only five.”
Returning to his full height, Nate was about to wink at Rebekah until he noticed Thomas peeking around her. Unwilling to rile the man, especially after hearing that message, he smiled instead.
Love Finds You in Silver City, Idaho Page 16
