Just Kin (Texas Romance Book 6)

by Caryl McAdoo

  “I thought he and I were both going with Harold, but at the last bell, the liar got off the steamship, and.…” She hiked one shoulder then swung her legs around. “The thieving cheat must have planned it all along. To send Aunt May the ransom note while we were gone.”

  “Auntie said he came all the way to DeKalb before he posted the note.”

  “Idiot. Anyway, Harold had plans of his own I suppose. He brought me here and proposed. Said he figured he had another ten or twenty years at the most, then I’d be a rich widow.”

  She turned back around, picked up her brush, and went back to work on her hair. “Charley, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. Didn’t know even if you were dead or alive, and….”

  He gulped a big slug of bourbon. “And what?”

  She shook her head, then looked at him in the glass again. “And I thought you and I were only kin, that’s what. My heart would never have healed, you know. I’ve loved you since I can remember, even when I was a little girl…four or five. You were always my hero. Then…you were leaving….”

  “I hate the war.”

  “You hate it? I loathe it, detest it. It’s an abomination.” She faced him again, but kept brushing.

  Her dark straight hair glistened almost blue in the lamplight. Nothing like Marah’s…Marah! Where had that come from? He put the image of her away and focused on his beloved.

  “So you left and I watched you ride off, gleaning the tiniest bit of happiness inside that at least you knew and would come home to me. Then my mother called me a half-breed, and I even endured that, knowing you’d come home to me. Then…I got… A part of me died, right then. I knew I’d never be whole.”

  Would he ever hear the last of that letter? He set his drink down and went to her.

  “I can’t change that I sent it, but I meant to set you free. Didn’t want you pining. I know I was wrong now, but…I guess I was too dumb to know my own heart.” He kissed the top of her head then her neck. “But I’m here now, and I’ll never leave you again. I love you.”

  She spun around. “You won’t go back to the war? You’ll stay?”

  “Whoa. No. I didn’t mean that, Lacey. We’re going home, and I will have to report back to my regiment. That’s my duty, my honor, and has nothing to do with my love for you. I could never desert. Besides letting Uncle Henry down, I need to be there for Bart and Houston, watch their backs. Those boys need me.”

  “But I need you, too.” The pain in her eyes shone so obvious.

  “I know.”

  “I love you, and I’d give anything if it could be different.”

  “I know.”

  “Is there anything else you want to know about Harold?”

  “No. He’s dead and…” He smiled then pulled her up and into his arms. “I have you. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Lacey relished his embrace. His arms were like no others. She should tell him the whole of it, but the words wouldn’t come. She’d confessed her sins to the Lord, and they were under the blood.

  Out of Charley’s own mouth, he said he didn’t need to know anything else. Why would he?

  The pain in his eyes hurt her heart whenever Harold’s or Jack’s name came up.

  He kissed her for real. He did love her. What else mattered? Nothing. Not anymore. She’d take her whoredom to her grave with her.

  No need to hurt him any further. For sure and for certain, the baby would never know the means his father used to worm his way into her life.

  Her son would never know anyone but Charley as his father.

  And what a father he would make!

  More kisses banished her past. Only loving her husband mattered.

  The next morning, she woke with a smile. It pleased her that the Humphries had warmed so quickly to Charley, but who wouldn’t love her husband?

  And it thrilled her even more when he’d agreed to attend church in Glenn Falls before leaving. Hopefully, Nate would be there. She’d let him get a good look at a real man.

  More than likely, he wouldn’t be though. Probably off chasing smoke, trying to defeat President Lincoln.

  But she sure didn’t understand why since he heard same as her when Mister Dithers said Abe would be re-elected and that the war would end next April on the ninth. If only she could keep Charley home with her until then.

  She rolled over, and he grinned.

  “Good morning.”

  Smiling back, she scooted closer. “Do you ever sleep?”

  “Some, but without a sentry, I keep one eye open.”

  “Have any idea what time it is?”

  “Haven’t heard a cock crow. Do the Humphries keep chickens?”

  She nodded then scooched in tighter. “Guess we don’t have to get up yet.”

  “Guess we don’t.”

  The cock did crow, but by then, Charley had already made coffee and brought her a cup in bed as though she was some kind of princess.

  After three tries, she found a dress that didn’t bind her bulging belly too badly. She best locate a seamstress or buy some material. Sewing on the train would help pass the time, except the stinky things rocked and lurched so bad.

  Might end up with nothing but bloody fingers and a mess.

  A familiar soft tap sounded on her door, then Mother Humphries’ gray noggin appeared. “Sweetheart, the men have the carriage ready.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Mister Humphries reached the church grounds early as usual, but Lacey liked it. Meant she’d have more time to show off Charley before services. He helped Mother down first then came around to offer Lacey a hand.

  The elderly couple walked arm in arm toward the building. They were so cute.

  Then to her surprise, the pastor’s wife marched out of the building’s front door wearing an everyday dress and no bonnet. Her gray hair pinned rather haphazardly in a bun left stray strands bouncing as she hurried toward them.

  After a brief consultation with both of the Humphries, she rushed away heading south.

  The old man strode inside, his head bent as if studying the ground as he went. Mother Humphries came back to the carriage. “Pastor’s sick. She wants the Mister to lead services.”

  “What’s wrong, did she say?”

  “Fever, and it’s been high since yesterday. She’s plenty worried. Says he’s sweating so bad that he’s soaked the bed.”

  Sounded as though it could be cholera to Lacey, but she didn’t give her supposition voice. Miss Jewel had drummed into her about the fruit of your lips. “We’ll pray for him.”

  Charley let Lacey show him off, but didn’t try to remember any of the folks’ names. They seemed nice enough, but he’d most likely never see them again. He regretted saying he’d come, wanted to get on about heading back to Texas.

  On arrival though, honor required him to leave Lacey there and return to the war.

  The thought tighten his innards. He hated the idea of having to sleep by himself again.

  In just the few days, Lacey had become a part of him. He smiled remembering hearing the old folks talk about what they called the miracle of two becoming one. He didn’t rightly believe in miracles, but if they needed to, fine by him.

  The church’s bell tolled, and with his wife on his arm, he followed the congregants inside. Just like so many other services he’d attended, announcements followed opening prayer.

  While the old boy droned on, Charley let his mind wander, but it took him to Marah’s horse farm. He tried to push her image away, but….

  “Oh yes, my Charley can lead the singing. He has a beautiful voice.”

  “What?” Did Lacey just say he could lead the singing? He looked at her, but she faced the front, almost cracking her face in two with that smile he loved.

  “How about it, Son? You willing to help me out here?”

  Even from where he sat, Charley could see the ‘beg’ on Mister Humphries’ face. “Yes, sir. Sure.” He stood then glanced at his other half. “If my wife can help me.
”

  A jab in his side let him know she didn’t like being volunteered, but maybe it would serve her a lesson regarding offering up his services. The old man searched the crowd. Out of the corner of his eye, Charley noted all the bobbing heads.

  The old man nodded. “We’ll allow it.”

  On the way up front, he searched his memory for something to sing. At first, he drew only a blank, then it hit him. He whispered in Lacey’s ear and faced the congregation. “You folks know the song the children of Israel sang after they crossed the Red Sea?”

  No one spoke up.

  “I forget exactly where, but it’s in the book of Exodus I think. Learned it back in Texas. Anyway, we’ll sing it, and you folks join in when you get it.”

  The first time through, he sang it a little slower than normal, making sure to enunciate each word.

  Second time around, most had caught the tune, then the third, he let loose. His feet threatened to carry him away, but he made them hold firm. He’d danced plenty of times, but only as a boy at the brush arbor in a midweek service.

  And certainly, he’d never done such in a church building of a Sunday morning with all the stuffed-shirt folks in attendance.

  The horse and rider song ran its course and right on its heels he started Rejoice in the Lord Always—Lacey led the women and they sang it in a round—then Bless the Lord from David’s Psalms.

  After that, he sang the Lord’s Prayer real slow just like his mama loved, and his beautiful wife harmonized, sounding like an angel.

  Squeezing her hand, he let the last note fade away. Toward the end, folks mostly had been singing with their eyes closed and heads bowed.

  After a few heartbeats of silence, they looked up one by one. He didn’t know what to do next. They just stared at him kind of sour looking, then finally some smiles broke loose.

  At least they weren’t throwing eggs or tomatoes. He gave the congregation a nod then tugged on Lacey’s hand. She slipped her hand under his elbow then over his forearm and walked back to the pew in lockstep with him.

  Lacey loved it, loved him, and loved how the folks reacted to her man.

  Oh, she had chosen so right. Bless the Lord.

  His mercy truly endured forever. She’d been able to pick out his voice singing in church before, but never had heard him cut loose as he had. The man was unbelievable, gifted to say the least.

  Was there anything he couldn’t do?

  Her hero had come across the country, tracked her down, and redeemed her life. Bless God that she’d seen Nate’s true colors in time.

  How horrible it would have been if she’d married the deacon just before Charley showed! God was so good, and she so undeserving of such mercy and grace. She could never thank Him enough.

  “My, my. That was just wonderful, Charley and Lacey. Loved those songs. Thank you so much for stepping up.”

  Scooting into the pew, she nodded at Mister Humphries.

  Looking much more relaxed, her caretaker scanned the crowd. “I’ve been praying about what I should say this morning. Only thing came was a verse in Revelation, one of my favorites. One I’ve been praying over this awful war. It says we defeat the devil by the Blood of the Lamb and the Word of our testimony.” Twelfth chapter, eleventh verse.

  Thumbing through his Bible as pages all over the sanctuary fanned. “And they overcame him by the Blood of the Lamb, and by the Word of their testimony; and they loved not their lives unto the death. Hmm, that last part sure speaks to so many of our young men dying on the battlefields today.”

  Pausing, he looked around the congregation. “Neighbors, we’re all covered by the blood alright, but what of our testimonies?” He smiled. “Guess you ascertained where I’m going with this in light of our pastor being ill today. Anyone care to share theirs?”

  For a few uncomfortable minutes—though probably in reality, only seconds—no one said anything. Lacey’s heart pounded and her mouth dried. Hadn’t she just been thinking of all God had done for her? But she couldn’t go first.

  Let someone else go first, please, Lord.

  Finally, a man on the other side of the church stood.

  “Come on up, Brother Earl, so everyone can hear.”

  “Uh, well, I just want to thank God for saving me. I was nineteen years old when He drew me. I walked down this very aisle and gave Him my heart, surrendered my life to His service.” He shrugged. “Guess I don’t do much, but the mis’ess and I took in the orphaned boys he sent us. And every week, I carry a portion of my garden to Widow Fairbanks. Uh, we’ve never wanted.”

  “Thank you, sir. That is indeed a true service to the Kingdom. Anyone else?”

  Another man shared—Lacey’s heart beating like a drum the whole time. God wanted her to speak. She knew it for sure and for certain, but could she?

  Three more men and two women gave their testimonies, before another long period of uncomfortable silence ensued. The pounding got so hard and so loud, she stood.

  Dear God. Now I have to go up there. Help me, Lord.

  The muscle in her chest, surely pulverized, still beat against her ribcage as she turned at the pulpit and faced the crowd.

  The whole time she’d been in Glen Falls, she’d never even been on the platform before, and there she was for the second time that Sunday morn. She took a deep breath and swallowed.

  All over the sanctuary, expectant eyes seemed to urge her to speak, giving her their permission even though she was an outsider.

  “As a rebellious teenager, I ran away from home and fell into many things I could never have imagined. I thought my life was ruined. But kept making bad choice after bad choice, believing I had no other options.”

  Tears blurred her vision. Helped some, not to see so clearly the people who so judged her for marrying such an old man—one they all knew was a card sharp.

  “But we always have choices, don’t we? I admit I married Harold Longstreet for all the wrong reasons. I didn’t love him then, though I had come to respect him.”

  Words came hard. Her voice cracked, but she kept going. A glance at Charley, who nodded his approval, encouraged her. “Then after Harold was murdered—though I absolutely did not deserve it—God sent the love of my life to rescue me. He’d saved me a long time ago.” She managed a chuckle.

  “Charley and I accepted Christ and were baptized at the same camp meeting, but he told me the other day, he didn’t know how crazy in love I was with him all my life.” She filled her lungs then exhaled slowly. “So, my testimony is this: No matter how bad you mess up everything, the Lord will show His mercy, and He can fix it.”

  Feeling at least a hundred pounds lighter, she sat back down. Charley wrapped his arm around her and hugged her tight.

  Too soon, the service was over. She’d hoped Charley would have shared, but then again, the folks there didn’t know much of his life. Plus, she had cajoled him into leading the singing. Perhaps he figured he’d contributed enough already.

  The Humphries appeared happier than she’d ever seen them. The Mister didn’t even bother reining Buster to the other side of the road passing by Mister Dither’s place.

  Truth be known, she’d hoped the old man would have been at church, but…his presence would probably have intimidated everyone.

  The feast Mother Humphries put on that evening surprised Lacey, but the precious lady claimed it was nothing special. Still, seemed she wanted to impress Charley, but then who didn’t?

  That night, her last in Glenn Falls for only the Lord knew how long, she woke way too early to the sound of a war drum.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Coming into a sleepy, semi-awareness, Lacey patted the bed. No Charley. She slipped out, grabbed her housecoat, and followed the sound of the drum beat to the great room.

  Outside, a fire roared, sending sparks and embers skyward, her husband and too many to count young Comanche warriors danced around the blaze.

  Ancient men sporting feathered bonnets beat on their drums. “What? How…?�
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  “Daughter, you have chosen wisely.”

  She spun around. Mister Dithers warmed himself with his back to the suddenly flaming hearth. “Yes, I know. Charley’s wonderful.”

  The old man nodded then stepped closer. “You two will live a hard life. Help him choose the sweet and reject the bitter.”

  Though she hated hearing that, she knew down deep it was truth.

  He smiled, glanced out the window, then faced her again. “You’ve heard him sing God’s praises like the nightingale. Encourage him to dance like King David danced, but remember to always give God the glory. The Lord is jealous of His glory, Daughter.”

  Questions flooded her soul, but before she could ask even one, Mister Dithers vanished along with the fire. She spun around. Only Charley danced around the glowing embers, then he vanished, too. She rubbed her eyes and sat up.

  A shaft of moonlight shone through her bedroom window and illuminated the sleeping lump next to her.

  Only his steady breathing filled the silence. She eased back down, turned onto her side, and cuddled next to him. So warm. The night vision left a chill that had settled over her soul. His strength soon chased away the frost.

  As sleep found her again, Mister Dithers’ words echoed through her conscious.

  But what did it all mean?

  Movement brought Charley to the nether. For a few fuzzy moments, the drumbeats lingered then rode the fire’s smoke as it lifted into the night sky and soared over the mountain.

  The sound of a galloping horse turned his head to the right. Marah, her hair flowing behind her, rode Lexi toward him.

  Forcing his eyes to look again, closer, he focused on his beautiful lover, but he’d rejected her. His eyes opened to the dark, still room. He’d chosen Lacey Rose. She was his wife.

  He lay still until Lacey’s third little puffing snore he loved so much, eased out of bed, dressed, then kindled a fire in the cookstove two cock crows before Mother Humphries came in the back door.

  “Good morning, Charley.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Sure is, but rather chilly for July.”