Winter Promise

by Martha Rogers

  Two rows ahead, Erin sat holding baby Connor wrapped in a bright blue blanket knitted by his grandmother. Proud papa, Reverend Seth Winston, stood behind the pulpit and read from the Scriptures.

  As the reverend’s rich baritone voice quoted the verses describing that night in Bethlehem, awe and wonder filled Elliot to overflowing. For the past week he and Abigail had been together almost constantly. He’d found a dozen excuses to pop in at the library, and she’d been to dinner at the Jensen home twice. Each time he saw her, his love grew, and tonight he planned to ask her to make that love permanent.

  When the preacher reached the part with the shepherds, Kate Monroe, along with her brothers’ wives dressed all in white, stood up in the choir section behind the pulpit. Kate began singing “Gloria” with the other three women joining in. Chills coursed through his veins at the ethereal sound of their voices that seemed to come straight from heaven.

  He reached over and grasped Abigail’s hand. He closed his eyes and saw the image of the shepherds on a star-filled night beholding a host of angels proclaiming Christ’s birth. What joy must have filled them as they heard the message and then hastened to find their Messiah in a manger in a hillside cave in Bethlehem.

  After two years of avoiding God and church, Elliot had never felt more at home than he did in this place as he listened to the ancient story of the miraculous birth. Reverend Winston spoke the words, and Elliot’s mind jumped forward to the sacrifice of the cross years later. All he could do was thank the Lord for never abandoning him and for taking care of him during a desolate time in his life.

  As the reverend finished the story, he stretched out his hands toward the congregation and invited them to light their candles and sing one last song before going out into the night. A person at the end of each row lit a candle then passed the flame down the row. Soon the entire church was aglow with candlelight. The organist played the first strains of “Silent Night,” and then the congregation lifted the words heavenward with one voice.

  He glanced down at Abigail, and she gazed up at him. He prayed the glow in her eyes came more from him than the candle flame shining in her hand.

  When the song ended, a brief prayer sent them out into the darkness with their candles still glowing.

  Aunt Maggie stopped them outside. “I know you’re staying with Kate and Daniel tonight, Abigail, but please stop by for a few minutes and share some wassail with us. This is a special Christmas for us with Elliot returning to his faith.”

  “I’d like that, Mrs. Jensen. Thank you. Kate and Daniel are at Seth and Erin’s to visit with them and little Connor. He’s such a beautiful baby, and if it hadn’t been for Elliot’s quick thinking and rather alarming action, he might not be here.”

  She squeezed his hand, and he wanted to hug her right there, but too many people would see, and he would do nothing to mar her reputation. Even if the rules of courting were all but gone in these more modern times, he’d rather follow the old ones and be safe.

  They walked away from the crowd, and Abigail continued to hold his hand. “Do you want to stop by and see Erin and Seth before we go to your house? I know how thankful they are for you and what you did.”

  He had a hard time hearing her call the reverend by his given name, but then she’d grown up with him, and his sister was her best friend. He’d have to get used to it if Abigail became his bride. He’d know if that was to happen soon enough. “They’ve all expressed their gratitude in one way or the other. I have something else in mind. Let’s walk a little ways . . . unless you’re too cold.”

  “Not a bit, and I’d love to walk with you.” She snuggled against his arm, her head barely reaching his shoulder.

  The words he’d written down and rehearsed flew out of his mind. What did they matter anyway? He’d just say what was on his heart, and that heart was so full the right words would be in there somewhere.

  Along the sidewalk that stretched in front of the boardinghouse, gas lights gave off a soft glow that tinged all around it in rays of gold. He raised his eyes to the sky, a dark expanse of blue black shimmering with stars that winked in a haphazard pattern among the clouds. As they moved across the sky, an opening in the clouds revealed the nearly full moon. A perfect night for declaring his love.

  Abigail felt she might burst with happiness. She prayed Elliot felt it too. She followed his gaze to the sky and sighed. “Christmas Eve is always a special time. Tomorrow will be busy with gifts, food, and family fun, but tonight in the silence we can marvel at what the shepherds experienced well over a thousand years ago.”

  He squeezed her hand now tucked under his arm. “I felt that tonight when Kate and the others sang. I’d been told Kate had a good voice, but I’d never heard her sing much of anything except some ditties around the clinic to distract our youngest patients.”

  “Daniel told me that it was her singing “Amazing Grace” that opened his eyes to how much he loved her. Isn’t that romantic?”

  “Hmm, I suppose, if you say so.”

  Elliot must not have a romantic bone in his body. In the days since his declaration in the library, he’d done nothing to show whether he loved her like she loved him. Oh, he cared about her, but he never really said anything that promised of more. She hadn’t come to Porterfield in search of a husband, but God had put Elliot squarely in the middle of her life, and she wanted more than anything to marry him. She’d have to come up with something to hurry things along.

  “You’re quiet. What’s going on in that pretty little brain of yours?”

  If only she could tell him the truth. Why did women always have to wait for men to make the first move toward talking about love and marriage? It just didn’t seem fair.

  They stopped in front of the boardinghouse. The house was quiet and dark. Everyone living there had somewhere else to be tonight.

  “I suppose we should start back toward your aunt and uncle’s, but it’s such a beautiful night, I hate to go in.” With Elliot beside her, she had all the warmth she needed for the cold evening.

  They walked a few more steps, then Elliot stopped and turned her around to face him. He held both her hands in his. The moon gave off just enough light to illuminate his face and the serious expression there.

  Her heart skipped a beat. Was this the end instead of a beginning? Her throat tightened so she could barely swallow waiting for him to speak.

  She watched as he pulled his shoulders up and stood to his full height at least a foot above hers. Then his hands squeezed hers in almost a grip of death. A shiver coursed through her veins.

  “Abigail, you are the most wonderful girl.”

  He hesitated, and she waited for the “but” to follow. It didn’t.

  “I know I said we should learn more about each other, but I know everything I need to about you. You’re fun, you’re kind, you’re hardworking, and you’re brave.”

  He stopped again as though searching for words. Abigail’s patience wore thin. She narrowed her eyes and looked up at him. “Elliot Jensen, do you love me?”

  His head jerked back and his eyes opened wide. “Uh . . . yes . . . yes, I do love you. That’s what I was trying to say.”

  At last. Excitement grew within her. Who said it was better to wait for him to speak? “And do you want to marry me?”

  He laughed aloud. “Yes . . . yes . . . I want to marry you.”

  “And I want to marry you. Now was that so hard?” She lifted her chin and smiled. His eyes glimmered in the light.

  “No, it was as easy as what I’m going to do now.”

  He bent his head and his lips brushed across hers, light as a feather then back again, a little more firmly this time. His grip on her hands loosened, and his arms came around her back to pull her against his chest. This time his lips met hers with such force that she flinched, but then she relaxed into the kiss that rocked her to her shoes and back again.

  His heart beat in rhythm with hers as they savored the moment. Finally they parted, his breathing as labo
red as hers. “Abigail Monroe, you are the most independent, forward woman I know, and I love you for it.”

  There, he’d spoken of love on his own this time. If she had any more happiness in her, she would absolutely burst.

  His lips met hers again, and tears of pure joy stung her eyelids. Truly God had brought her to this place and to this man. And as she reveled in his kiss, she knew that this was a true beginning, a winter promise to carry her forward into the days and years to come.

  Coming from Martha Rogers in May 2012, book four of Seasons of the Heart—Spring Hope

  CHAPTER ONE

  Porterfield, Texas, February 13, 1891

  THE COLDEST NIGHT of winter thus far chilled Deputy Sheriff Cory Muldoon to the bone as he made his rounds in the alleyways of Porterfield. Cold wind howled around the corners of the buildings now closed up for the night. Most everyone in Porterfield had gone home to their families and warm homes. This was all the winter he cared to experience, and even this would be only a few days as the weather in Texas could change in a heartbeat, summer or winter.

  Lights and music from the saloon rang out and mocked the dark silence of its neighboring buildings. Friday nights found cowboys and lumberjacks both squandering their hard-earned money on liquor and women. Tonight would be no different despite the cold, near freezing temperatures. Most likely at least one or two of them would end up in the jail for a spell.

  Cory turned up the collar of his sheepskin-lined jacket and shoved his hat farther down on his head. When he rounded the corner of the livery, the gentle nickering and snorts of the horses boarded there broke the quietness of the night.

  A cat skittered out from behind the general store, and a dog barked in the distance. Ever since the bank robbery last fall, he or the sheriff had roamed the alleys behind the main businesses every night to make sure everything remained locked tight and secure. So far he’d seen only a typical Friday night with everything as routine as Aunt Mae’s boardinghouse meal schedule. Of course, being Friday the thirteenth, anything could happen.

  They already had two men put up for the night back at the jail. Sheriff Rutherford took the night duty to keep the jail cells warm so Cory could have Saturday off for his Aunt Mae’s wedding. Ole Cooter probably got drunk and disorderly just so he’d have a warm place to sleep tonight and not have to go out to his shack. Cory held no blame on the man for that. Durand, the saloon owner, caught the other man cheating at cards and had him arrested. Maybe the card shark would move his game on to some other town.

  Cory shivered despite the warm coat and hoped Abigail and Rachel would have dinner waiting for him back at the boardinghouse. What with Aunt Mae’s wedding tomorrow, those two women had taken over mealtimes until his aunt returned from her wedding trip.

  What appeared to be a pile of trash sat outside the back door of Grayson’s mercantile. Ordinarily the store owner wouldn’t leave a heap in the open like that. Cory hesitated in making an investigation, but the snuffling and nickering of a horse grabbed his attention. His hand caressed the handle of his gun. No one and no animal should be here this time of night.

  The horse, a palomino, stood off to one side. He wore a saddle, but the reins dangled to the ground. Cory went on alert, his eyes darting about the alley in search of a rider. He reached for the reins and patted the horse’s mane then ran his hand down its flank. “Whoa, boy, what are you doing out wandering around?” No brand on his hind quarters meant he didn’t belong to a ranch around here, and Cory didn’t recognize the horse as belonging to any of the townspeople.

  The pile by the back door moved, and along with the movement, a moan sounded under it. With his hand on his gun, Cory approached the mound. An arm flung out from the heap, and another cry. This was no animal, and he knelt down to pull back what looked like an old quilt.

  When the form of a young woman appeared, Cory jumped as though he’d been shot. Every nerve in his body stood at attention as he reached out to remove more of the cover. A woman lay huddled under the quilt, and her body shook from the cold while a cough wracked through her chest, followed by another cry.

  On closer inspection he realized she was younger than he first thought. Her smooth, unlined face and tangled hair were that of a young woman. She couldn’t be more than twenty, the same age as his sister Erin.

  He bent over her to pick her up, and she started to scream, but another coughing spell prevented it. When her blue eyes peered up at him, they were so full of fear that they sent daggers of alarm straight to his soul. This girl was in trouble.

  “Don’t be afraid. I’m the deputy sheriff. I won’t hurt you, but tell me your name and let me take you to the doctor.” He pointed to his badge in hope of reassuring her.

  Instead, her gaze darted back and forth as she pulled the blanket up under her chin. Her ungloved hands trembled with the cold. He removed his glove and reached out a hand to touch her forehead then yanked it back. She burned with fever.

  “You’re sick. We need you to get you to Doc Jensen’s right away.” He slid his hands beneath her to scoop her up into his arms. He almost lost his footing as he rose, thinking she’d be a heavier burden than she was. Light as a feather meant she was probably malnourished too.

  She moaned against his chest. “I’m so cold.”

  Her voice, weak and hesitant, touched a nerve in him. He had to get her warm. Cory made sure the blanket covered her then grasped the horse’s reins. A low whistle brought his own horse closer. “Follow us, Blaze. We’re going to the infirmary.

  He held the girl tight to his chest to transfer some of his warmth to her. The quicker he could get her to Doc, the quicker he could warm her up and treat that cough.

  No time to worry about drunken cowboys or lumberjacks tonight.

  The man who called himself a deputy carried her in his arms. With his gentle touch and voice, this man wasn’t like others she had known. Her body burned with heat then turned ice cold with shivers. So much pain raked her body that she didn’t have the strength to resist him anyway.

  The man cradled her to his chest. “We’ll be at Doc Jensen’s in just a few minutes. Hang on, little lady.”

  Little lady? Little, maybe, but certainly no lady by his standards. Another cough wracked her chest and set her throat afire with pain. Her thin jacket and the quilt had been no match for the cold, especially after she’d crossed the river. There hadn’t been enough heat in the day to dry her clothes before chilling her to the bone and causing this cough. She’d lost count of the days since she left home and had no idea how far she’d come. She’d avoided towns as much as possible, only entering long enough to pick up food at a mercantile.

  Pa had to be on her trail by now, or he’d have others searching for her. Either way, she didn’t plan to get caught and be dragged back to Louisiana. Even now the memory of all that she had endured because of Pa made her stomach wretch. She’d die before she let anyone take her back to that.

  The man called for someone named Clem to go get the doc and he’d meet him at the infirmary. Maybe he was a sheriff after all since he was sending for help. She didn’t dare open her eyes lest he see her fears again. Until she could be absolutely certain he meant her no harm, she’d stay still and quiet.

  She inhaled the masculine scent of horses, sweat, and leather. He smelled like hard work and not a trace of alcohol. Unusual for a man, even a lawman. In the background raucous music came from a saloon. She’d recognize the tinny sound of saloon piano anywhere. It disappeared in the distance, and they proceeded down the street and up what felt like stairs or steps onto what must be boardwalk or porch.

  He set her on her feet, and she peeped with one eye while he fumbled in his pocket then pulled out a ring of keys. In the next minute he had the door open and strode through it carrying her once again.

  Antiseptics, alcohol, and carbolic acid greeted her nose. This must be the doctor’s office. Not until he laid her on a hard surface did she open her eyes, half expecting him to be leering over her. Instead, he had
walked away to light a lamp, which filled the room with flickering shadows dancing on the walls. A glass door cabinet stood against the wall, and another bed sat a few feet away from where she lay.

  He returned to stand beside her, and she almost shrank in fear at his size. Well over six feet tall, he’d removed his hat to reveal a mass of dark red hair curling about his forehead. His hand caressed her forehead, but she did not flinch even though every inch of her wanted to. No need for him to know her fears.

  “I see you’re awake. The doc will be here in a minute. He’ll fix you right up.”

  Instead of resisting, her body relaxed at the gentle tone of his voice. He certainly didn’t fit her idea of a lawman or a cowboy. No one but her ma had ever treated her so kindly. Most people treated her like trash under their feet and didn’t care whether she was well or sick. Still, he was a man. She had to be careful.

  A woman’s voice sounded, along with another man’s. She turned her head to find a beautiful red-haired woman and an older man entering the room.

  The one who must be the doctor stepped to her side. “Well, Cory, what have we here?” His eyes held only concern and kindness behind his wire-rimmed glasses.

  “I found her in the alley behind the general store. She must have come in on horseback and fallen there.”

  The woman brushed hair from her face. “Can you tell us your name?”

  Her heart thumped. What if Pa came looking for her? But if she lied and stayed here, she’d have to keep lying. Another fit of coughing had the woman holding her upright and rubbing her back. When the spell ended, she whispered her name. “Elizabeth Bradley.”

  The woman helped her lie back down. “Hello, Elizabeth. I’m Kate Monroe, the doc’s nurse, and this fellow who brought you in is my brother Cory. He’s deputy sheriff in town.”