Bull hauled Erica back, all but throwing her down in the pew while the children shuffled toward Brad, terror making their movements more awkward than did the lack of space. The congregation gasped at the crude splint now visible on the baby’s arm. Once in the aisle, the kids didn’t know what to do. With a sweep of his massive arms, Patrick herded them across the small space to the row of seats behind him before planting himself solidly at the end. They crowded in next to Millicent—shaking, eyes glued to their father and mother, harsh, terrified sobs ripping from their throats.
“Momma?” the oldest asked in a thin thread of sound that broke Evie’s heart.
Brad held out his hand again, not a lick of fear in his stance. Evie could have smacked him. His profession wasn’t going to save him from Bull’s muscle.
“You come, too, Erica.”
Erica shook her head, not looking at Brad, Bull, or anyone. She stared at the floor as if it held the secrets of the universe. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
Erica cast Bull a fearful glance from beneath her lashes. “He won’t let me, and the law says—”
A muscle jumped in Brad’s jaw. “The law says a whole lot of things that I don’t care about.”
Tension rippled through the congregation. Evie stood.
“Go, Erica,” Jenna whispered from where she stood two pews down, leaning against Clint’s arm, her face as white as the children’s. “This is what you’ve prayed for.”
Erica’s mouth worked. “He’ll let the children go.”
Evie caught Clint’s eye. “Do something!”
“Do what? It’s the Rev’s show.”
She didn’t know what. Maybe trade places with him. He was an ex-marshal and ex-bounty hunter, for heaven’s sake, while Brad was just a preacher. The only show that was going to occur was the one in which he got pulverized.
“Let her go, Bull.”
“The hell I will,” Bull snapped.
“The hell you won’t,” Brad countered, walking around the packed line of pews, heading to the back. “This is my congregation, these are my people, and no one”—his hand slapped against wood as he cleared the rear pew. Everyone jumped—“husband or not, is going to abuse one of them.”
Bull hauled Erica up against him with a grip so tight it would leave bruises. Not a sound passed her lips, but she jerked with terror. Shoving his bearded face in hers, he growled, “You filthy whore. This is who you’ve been screwing? The goddamned preacher?”
The uneasy rumble in the congregation grew. Evie looked around frantically. Why wasn’t someone, anyone besides Brad, doing something?
“Let her go, you no-account son of a bitch or I’ll break your arm, the same as you broke that baby’s when she took that biscuit to fill her little belly.”
Women gasped, men swore, and congregation members slowly came to their feet, propelled by outrage and the tension Brad was fueling.
“Big talk for a preacher,” Bull snarled.
“You would think.”
“Not big talk for me, I’m thinking,” Patrick said in his thick brogue. “For me, I’m thinking ridding the world of your stench would be a fine way to start me Sunday.”
“I don’t need your help, O’Shaunessy,” Brad snapped, as he came down the outer aisle, his gaze locked on Bull, one step flowing into the next with predatory grace.
“Now there I’d be seeing things from a mighty different view, Reverend, seeing as how I’m a member of this congregation and as rightly offended as you at these goings-on.”
“Momma!” the baby cried. Blocking their view of what was happening directly across the aisle with his huge body, Patrick kept the children in the pew.
Brad spared him one glance. “This is my fight, Patrick.”
“It’s all right, babies,” Erica called to her sobbing children, leaning away from Bull as she stared at him with the terror one usually reserved for a striking rattler. “Just stay there. It’s going to be all right.”
Evie couldn’t blame the kids for crying. She didn’t believe Erica either.
“You claiming the Braeger women and children, Rev?” Cougar asked in that calm way of his that made one think of an approaching storm.
“Absolutely.”
Evie covered her mouth as understanding hit her. Brad wasn’t just challenging Bull; he fully intended to fight him. Good grief, was he insane? Reverends didn’t fight. Especially not against veritable mountains pretending to be men.
“Need help?” Clint asked in the same conversational tone as Cougar.
“Nope.”
“A pity,” Asa added.
Bull sneered, “You’d better take the help, Reverend.”
Brad smiled and leapt sideways up onto a pew before balancing on the back of the next like a mountain lion moving in for a kill. The whole time his gaze never left Bull. “Thanks for the advice.”
Brad leapt, hitting Bull high, knocking him backward. Erica jerked free with a scream as Bull grabbed for him. The two men crashed to the outer aisle. Patrick took a few steps forward, reached over, and gently pulled Erica away.
“Here now, you don’t want to be near that tussle.”
Erica gaped at him. As if she wasn’t looking at him like he had two heads, Patrick calmly tucked her into the pew with her children and Millicent.
“You have to help him.” Erica sobbed the words that were caught in Evie’s throat. “Bull will kill him.”
“I’m thinking the Rev has the look of a scrapper about him.”
Who the hell cared what he looked like? Bull was huge! “Leave him alone, you brute!” Evie yelled, snatching up the candelabra and dashing up the aisle.
Asa caught the candelabra in one hand, pulling her up short. “If the Rev needs help, he’ll get it.”
“And how the hell do you know?”
“Evie!” her mother gasped.
Yanking at the candelabra, she snapped, “Well, excuse me for swearing. My husband is getting beaten to a pulp while his congregation looks on. I’m just a little upset.”
Clint, who’d put himself between Jenna and the fight, motioned to the men as they crashed into the wall. “Doesn’t appear to me that the Rev’s getting the short end of this deal.”
Evie blinked in astonishment. No. It didn’t. Brad had Bull’s face smashed into the wall and was holding him there with a hand at the base of his skull while the other wrenched Bull’s arm up behind his back.
“Knew he had the look of a scrapper,” Patrick said, arms folding across his massive chest.
“Heard over in Cheyenne that the Rev was a bit Old Testament,” a wrangler offered from the back.
Leaning in, saying something only Bull could hear, Brad shoved hard on Bull’s arm. There was a god-awful snap and Bull screamed.
“Appears he’s got a real fondness for the eye-for-an-eye part, at least,” another wrangler agreed over Bull’s swearing.
“Got to admire that.”
“Bastard deserved it,” someone else muttered.
“Stop swearing in my church,” Brad ordered, still holding the now-writhing Bull against the wall. He could have been talking to Bull or the cowboys. Both shut up, though only the wranglers looked abashed.
“Sorry, Rev.”
“About time someone put Bull in his place,” Jerome said.
“It’s a shame what those children have gone through,” a woman fussed.
“Poor little darling,” another muttered. “She was just hungry.”
No matter how she listened, Evie couldn’t hear any disapproval in the rumbling among the congregation. That was, until Brad made his next pronouncement.
“As soon as we’re done here, Herschel’s going to draw up divorce papers, and you, Bull, are going to sign them.”
“I’m not paying for a goddamn divorce.”
“Now, this is where you get to think of today as your lucky day. Herschel’s going to do it for free.”
Herschel, on his feet like everyone else, gasped. “A di
vorce is complicated. It could take years.”
Clearly he was thinking of the cost. Brad didn’t take his attention from Bull. “That’s why I wouldn’t trust anyone but you to oversee it, Herschel. Can’t be too careful when it comes to the law. We certainly wouldn’t trust one of our own to an outsider.”
“No, we wouldn’t,” Millicent chimed in. “We don’t need no snake oil salesman posing as a lawyer taking advantage of Erica. If Herschel does this, we know it will be done right.”
The congregation stirred with approval.
“Darn straight.”
“Herschel knows his law.”
“Learned it back East at that fancy school.”
“Don’t have no idea what he’s saying when he goes to talking all legal, but it sure is impressive to listen to,” Jerome tossed in.
“So how about it, Herschel?” Brad asked, the strain of holding Bull telling in his voice. “You going to help the Braegers out?”
Herschel, looking a little dazed by the outpouring of confidence from the community that normally took him for granted, nodded to Erica. “It’d be my privilege.”
The woman, looking just as dazed, whispered a “thank you.” Evie couldn’t blame her. It had been a rather rapid, not to mention violent, switch in her situation.
“Well, now that that’s settled, why don’t Clint and I escort Bull to your office, Herschel?” Cougar offered, heading over. “You can meet us when the Rev finishes up his preaching for the day.”
“Shoot,” a wrangler interjected, settling back against the wall with an aura of anticipation. “The Rev’s got more up his sleeve?”
“It would appear so,” one of his friends said when Brad nodded and stepped back as Clint and Cougar converged on Bull. “Though I think it’s going to be hard to top this.”
Asa let go of the candelabra and settled his hat on his head. “I’ll keep an eye on the Braeger women while they get settled.”
Brad looked over, saw Evie with her makeshift weapon, and shook his head as Cougar and Clint, none too gently, shoved Bull toward the door.
“I’d appreciate it.”
“I could just shoot him,” Elizabeth offered. Evie saw she had a small derringer in her hand. Asa glanced over his shoulder at Elizabeth as he passed Brad. “Not today, darlin’.”
“It would save everyone a lot of trouble.”
Unfazed by the sight of his wife brandishing a gun in church, Asa smiled. “That it would but seeing as it’s bad luck to murder a man on Sunday, we might want to do this the Rev’s way.”
Brad took the candelabra from Evie. “Maybe next time, Elizabeth.”
“Heck, let her shoot him, Rev.”
The smile Brad gave Evie as he set the candelabra aside was incredibly soft. “We don’t need bad luck chasing us, Cyrus.”
Brad slid his arm around her waist, his touch as soft as his smile. The church and the congregation faded away. There was nothing but his eyes and the tender way he was looking at her. “This isn’t where I left you.”
“I thought you might need help.”
“I’d rather you’d stayed where I left you.”
Pressing her hands into her stomach, she tried to still her shaking. “I would rather you didn’t try to commit suicide by attacking men as big as mountains.”
He escorted her back to the front of the church, continuing as if she hadn’t interrupted, “So I don’t have to worry about you.”
There was blood on his face, his suit was torn, and there was no telling how much damage Bull had done during the scuffle, and he was worried about her? Evie placed her arm around his waist, wincing as a cramp bit into her abdomen, supporting him the best she could.
He must have felt her flinch. “You still hurting?”
“I’m fine.”
His fingers rubbed her waist.
“I told you to stay home.”
She surreptitiously checked his chest, his ribs, looking for signs of pain. Unlike her, he didn’t flinch under her probing.
“And miss all the excitement?”
He stopped at her seat, watching her with concern as she sat. She gave him her best smile. All she got back was a frown. In a now familiar gesture, he ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek.
“Well, it’s not done yet.”
“You’ve got more of the same?”
“Yeah, so why are you smiling?”
“Because I think what you said before was pretty wonderful.”
His thumb pressed at the corner of her mouth, as tender as a kiss. “You realize it means I’m likely out of a job.”
“Who cares?”
“You are one strange woman.”
“Good thing you like strange.”
He didn’t respond for a second, then, “Yeah, it is.”
With another brush of his thumb, he turned and stepped up to the pulpit.
“Sorry about the disturbance, folks.”
“You planning on putting on a show like this every Sunday, Rev?”
Brad honestly didn’t know. All he knew was that the rage that had been building for as long as he could remember—the rage that had gotten worse and worse since he’d been a kid, swallowing his father’s curses like they were gospel, growing with every injustice—had this morning with Erica’s desperate plea for help just reached . . . enough. “It depends.”
“On what?” Dorothy asked.
“On whether we’re going to stand up as a town and do what’s right.”
“You can’t change the world.”
“This might make me as selfish as everyone else, but I don’t care about the world. I’m just concerned with what’s happening here and now. In Cattle Crossing.” He slapped the pulpit. “Here, I want change.”
“What kind of change?” Ruth asked.
“I’m tired of watching our weakest citizens get hurt.”
“The law ties our hands.”
“I’m willing to chance a run-in with the sheriff if it means a little girl not getting her arm broken.”
“Well, all I got to say is, it’s about time this town had a man with balls enough to take a stand.”
“Ruth!”
“Oh, hush up, Shirley. There are times when the Lord understands the need for a good curse word, right, Reverend?”
“I’m not sure I’m in his good graces right now.”
“You’re closer than our last Preacher ever got.” Ruth stomped her cane. “Worse thing that ever happened to this territory was the arrival of the law. Back in my day, a man took to beating his wife and kids, family took care of it, and failing that, the community took care of it. Now, everyone sits on their hands, claiming they’re tied. It’s a disgrace and a shame.”
“You’ve got to have law,” Homer cut in.
“Maybe, and maybe not, but I’m with the Reverend. When the law doesn’t help, we’ve got to help ourselves.”
“Sounds dangerously like vigilantism to me.”
“You going to sit here, Dan, and tell me you think it’s right for a man to break a little girl’s arm and feel safe doing it while decent folk just sit about and listen to her screams?”
“Heck no.”
The cane hit the floor again. “Then shut up and let Reverend Swanson speak.”
There didn’t seem much for Brad to do but go along.
“Thanks, Ruth.”
“Glad to be of help.”
Doc leaned over the pew and helped the older woman sit. When she was settled, everyone just stared at Brad, expecting him to lead them. Really lead them, not just meddle here or there. He only knew one way to do it. And it wasn’t going to be popular.
A small black-clad figure stepped out from the alcove in back. And about to get even more unpopular. Nidia. The woman was determined to be the bane of his existence. She lowered the mantilla covering her hair to her shoulders. “This protection for the weak, does it extend to all citizens? Even prostitutes?”
As he’d thought, she was forcing his hand. Pews creaked as the congre
gation turned from Nidia to look at him.
“Not now, Nidia.”
“I’d like to hear the answer to that,” Mara called.
“So would I,” Shirley chimed in.
Mara would be in favor but Shirley was the other side of the coin. She had strict views on what was proper. And as the mayor’s wife, she had the influence to enforce those views.
“I hadn’t planned on getting into this so soon, but . . .”
“But what?” Jerome groused. Brad didn’t fool himself that it was because he cared about the subject matter. It was more likely that his stomach was telling him it was getting on toward lunch. “Just spit it out. Ain’t like Shirley’s going to like it none the better for the delay.”
Evie wasn’t going to like it either. “Yes.”
“You’re not planning on driving off business, are you, Rev?” called Mark.
Brad waited for a lull in the commotion and then went for broke. It wasn’t like it mattered. Once the truth was out, he’d be out, but in the interim maybe he could plant some good.
“No, but those that want out, should have a way out, whether it’s from a bad marriage or a bad life.”
“And we have to provide it?”
Brad met Red’s gaze squarely. “Yes.”
“Hell, Rev, once a whore, always a whore.”
“And once an ass, always an ass,” Mara shot back.
Brad held his temper. “I doubt there’s one of us here who hasn’t been forced by circumstance to do what we didn’t like to survive at one time or another. Options are just fewer for women.”
Jenna’s “amen” was heartfelt.
The rumbling didn’t cease. He didn’t expect it to. His terms were pretty radical by anyone’s measure.
Brad raised his voce to be heard above the ruckus, keeping his eye on Evie. He couldn’t tell if the white line around her lips was from pain or anger. “You might as well know up front that I feel strongly about this, but I also understand your hesitation. I realize my stand on this may necessitate your requesting another minister.”
Promises Reveal Page 21
