The Preacher's Wife

by Brandi Boddie

  Mrs. Rheins glanced at her daughter in calculation. “Margaret has yet to find an escort. If you’re not otherwise obligated, I wonder if you could take her. I’d feel better if she went with you, Reverend, as opposed to a chaperone that I would hold in question.”

  Both mother and daughter fastened their hopeful brown eyes on him. The sound of a horse’s hooves clopping on the other side of the road was strangely reminiscent of the ticking of a clock.

  “I’m sorry, but I promised to escort someone else.”

  Mrs. Rheins retained her poise, but Margaret looked as though she had taken a tumble from the bird’s nest. Rowe hoped they wouldn’t ask who he was bringing to the fair.

  “We did inquire of you rather late,” Mrs. Rheins recovered. “Perhaps Margaret will see you there. She’s looking forward to the dances, aren’t you, dear?”

  Margaret nodded, and her chestnut curls bounced in an imitation of Sophie’s coiffure.

  “If you don’t mind my asking, is it Miss Charlton that you will be escorting? I’m told that you and her family have become well acquainted.”

  Rowe thought back to the conversation he overheard between Sophie and Linda, where Sophie discussed her plans to invite him to supper. It was possible she considered his visit the beginning of courtship. That was how Josephine reacted when he attended a party at her family’s estate. He had to tread carefully with Sophie and her friends.

  “No, Mama.” Margaret put the emphasis on the second syllable of the word, sounding decidedly upper crust. “Sophie is being escorted to the fair by Chad Hooper.”

  “The mayor’s son? A fine choice. You have yet to find a young man of equal repute.”

  Margaret folded her hands behind her back and studied her two-tone boots. Unfortunate girl, Rowe thought. She couldn’t look forward to the fair because of her mother.

  “We should be going now. Good evening, then, Reverend.” Mrs. Rheins led her daughter away from the square.

  Relieved that his interrogation was over, Rowe journeyed back to the church to gather his study materials before going home. He had a challenging task in the morning, finding Marissa a lawyer. Then there was the fair to think about. An hour’s drive away. An hour alone on the wide open prairie with Marissa. How could he keep his thoughts civil if he was already abandoning his will to think of no woman but Josephine?

  The Saturday of the fair turned out to be promising, despite the few raindrops that fell the previous evening. Golden sun lit the wide, tranquil blue sky. By the time Marissa and Rowe set out in the morning, the ground was dry.

  “It’s good to get out of town.” Marissa settled on the wagon bench as Assurance sank beneath the horizon behind her, eaten up by the plains. It was equally refreshing to be away from the watchful eyes and gossip, but more than that, she was anxious to meet the lawyer that Rowe found for her. Two days before, he said he talked with a counsel in Claywalk and that the gentleman was willing to speak to her concerning the contract. Mr. Jonathan Boyd, esquire, was supposed to be in attendance at the fair.

  Rowe drove the team of horses. “Other than the train to Kansas and the trip to Claywalk, I haven’t seen much of the countryside.”

  “Our windy, flat plains probably don’t compare with Virginia’s forests, do they?”

  “Virginia is lovely, but that doesn’t make this state any less beautiful.”

  Through her thin shawl she felt his body heat. She awaited their time together in Claywalk half in anticipation, half in dread. The wagon wheels rolled along the long narrow dirt road. Tall grasses waved the horses forward. Marissa imagined Virginia as a lush green landscape brimming with tall, leafy trees whose branches blocked the sun. She wondered if Rowe’s statement about the land applied to his opinion of people as well.

  Marissa smoothed the folds of the blue and white dress she and Rebecca lost hours of sleep over, no longer fooling herself into believing she didn’t care about what he thought of her appearance.

  They talked of their individual birthplaces on the way to the fair, describing the locals and the typical climates. Hearing Rowe speak of crowded cities and large buildings made her curious.

  “Did the war also prompt you to leave Richmond?”

  He explained God’s calling for him to be a minister after the war. “After I gave my life to Christ, living in Richmond no longer appealed to me. I’d seen death and families divided on a dehumanizing system that should never have been in place in this country.”

  “I would expect to hear that from a northerner but not a Virginian.”

  With a shrug he said, “I was drafted under a conscription law. I didn’t get to choose whether I’d fight. You’ll find that those of us in the South had differing opinions of the war, as did those in the North.”

  “There was violence here in Kansas too. I’m grateful that it ended when it did. Now the country can start moving forward.”

  They left the somber subject behind as their wagon began to run adjacent to the train tracks leading into Claywalk.

  “I haven’t attended the fair since I was eight or nine.” Marissa shielded her eyes and scanned the distance. The white tops of schooners dotted the town outskirts. Booths and colorful tables decorated the first three streets. Fiddle music drifted between the shouts of excited children and the buzzing chatter of adults. “Where did you agree to meet Mr. Boyd?”

  Rowe took one hand off the reins to grab his hat, nearly losing it in a sudden gust of wind. “He told me he would be waiting near the hitching posts. Shorter man, goatee. There he is. See him under the fair banner?”

  Marissa spotted the man Rowe described. He was below average height, wearing a light suit of summer wool. A gleaming gold watch chain dangled from his waistcoat. He opened the lid of his watch, then studied the attendees as they filtered between the poles holding the banner.

  “I guess we need to hurry.” Rowe swung down from the wagon bench and secured the horses. Marissa took his hand as he assisted her in climbing down.

  “Mr. Boyd.” He got the man’s attention as they approached.

  “Reverend Winford, good to see you again.” The lawyer shook Rowe’s hand before acknowledging Marissa. “And this must be the client in question.”

  “Yes, this is Miss Pierce. She’s being kind enough to accompany me to the fair today.”

  “Gotta keep a watchful eye on these city folks so they don’t hurt themselves out here, right, ma’am?” Mr. Boyd pumped her hand up and down.

  She liked his friendly manner, quite different from the unflappable lawyers her father used to consult for his debts. “How do you do, Mr. Boyd?”

  “Good. Let’s talk over yonder, where I can hear you over the racket.” He led them to a patch of grass away from the ticket line.

  What the lawyer had to say could determine whether Marissa breathed a sigh of relief or turned herself in to the sheriff. She felt as anxious as she did the first day Jason put her to work.

  Rowe’s steady and reassuring hand on her back was a welcome signal to bring her mind away from speculation.

  Mr. Boyd began. “I read up on contractual laws since I last saw the reverend. I’m basing the facts on what he said since I don’t have the contract in front of me. From what it seems, this is a civil matter. Your employer can file a lawsuit against you and the people you work for now if he chooses. That’s the bad news.”

  “What can possibly be good news?” Marissa imagined the Arthurs losing their home and business because of her.

  “The good news is no criminal action can be taken against you. Your employer can’t have you put in jail for simply quitting your job. He has to wait until a circuit judge comes into town to try the case.”

  “So Jason was bluffing.” Marissa looked up at Rowe. “What about after the trial?”

  Mr. Boyd continued. “If the judge finds you violated the contract—and I’m sorry, Miss Pierce, there’s a good chance he will, since you did leave the saloon before your termination date—he will order you to pay the damages
. If you can’t pay, your employer is free to pursue a case against the owners of the store you work at currently.”

  Her heart sank to the murky place it was before. “What about the contract itself? Those clauses that stated I had to work until the saloon increased its sales. They were vague.”

  “You can argue unconscionability. It’s up to the judge to decide if he agrees with you or with the saloon proprietor.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means the terms of the contract are so unreasonable that no person should have to be subject to them.”

  Rowe chimed in. “I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Mr. Boyd did say that everything has to wait until the judge arrives, whenever that may be.”

  “Right.” The lawyer took a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiped fingerprints from the cover of his watch. “So long as you don’t try to skip town or hide from the law.”

  Marissa wasn’t sure if Sheriff McGee would be satisfied with that. “What if my former employer insists that I’ll try to run away?”

  “You’d best convince your town’s sheriff that you won’t.”

  “I’ll speak for you,” said Rowe, “even if it means pestering McGee all day long.”

  Mr. Boyd cleared his throat louder than necessary. “If you don’t have any further questions, I hear the fruit turnovers calling my name.”

  “No, that’s all we have for today. About your fee.” Rowe proceeded to reach behind the lapels of his coat for his billfold.

  “No fee. The initial consultation’s always free of charge. You know where to find me if you need my help again.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Boyd.” Rowe turned to Marissa after he left. “Are you ready to get your ticket?”

  “I suppose, even if it means having to keep a watchful eye on you.”

  He played along. “Yes, we city folks just don’t know what to do with ourselves this far from home.”

  Marissa allowed herself to laugh now that the lawyer disappeared among the food vendors. “But this is your home now. You’re officially a resident of Kansas and a citizen of Assurance.”

  He turned serious. “I hope you’ll still consider this your home too and not move away when this legal battle with Jason is over.”

  She moved her shawl higher on her shoulders, in spite of the sun reaching its zenith. “I don’t think anyone would miss me too much, other than the Arthurs, and they’ll understand. Eventually.”

  “I’d miss you.”

  “Don’t say that.” It scared Marissa to hear the honesty in his words. For a man with strength, in physique as well as character, Rowe wore his feelings too far out on his sleeve. “You have a church to build.”

  “What does that have to do with me missing you if you go?”

  “The town would think it unseemly if you pined after my friendship.”

  The breeze upset Rowe’s hat again. He took it off and adjusted the inside band. The wind tousled his hair at the crown. “Maybe it’s more than friendship I seek.”

  Marissa got chills from the base of her spine to the top of her neck. She hoped he hadn’t intended for her to hear what he said. Even if she was attracted to him, she hid it. Why couldn’t he do the same? “I didn’t hear what you said over the music.”

  She thought preachers were good at concealing their annoyance, but Rowe was as bad at that as he was at keeping quiet. His eyes darkened a shade bluer than the evening sky. “You don’t have to be tactful. We’re not near the town gossips.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this. Zachary wanted us to go the fair because it would be fun. We should buy our tickets.”

  He didn’t move as she walked by him to the ticket counter and stood in line. If this was any indication of the rest of their day, Marissa hoped that it would go by fast.

  Twice in one week Rowe had three women chastise him as though he were a sulky child. First Mrs. Rheins and Margaret, and now Marissa.

  She was being stubborn, but this time her willful nature had nothing to do with the Assurance townspeople and everything to do with him.

  He scared her off.

  Rowe noticed how careful she was not to make eye contact with him as they stood side by side in the ticket line. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her. Why was he having so many slips of the tongue?

  The dress she wore was fetching. Its heart-shaped neckline made a pretty portrait of her honey-bronzed skin. Today she let her hair hang free down her back, and every so often, the breeze would lift the silky strands to tickle him on the wrist. The rinse she used smelled faintly of rosewater. It combined with her lavender fragrance, making him think of stepping into an English garden.

  It was torture.

  Rowe tried to get his nose to take in the smell of grease from the dough frying at a pastry table. It didn’t help. He smelled grease and flowers.

  “How many, sir?” The attendant had a thick roll of tickets sitting on the counter.

  “Two, please.” Rowe took four coins out of his billfold and placed them in front of the attendant.

  He didn’t want to admit it, but if Marissa were to leave Kansas, he would run right after her to get her to come back. She was right to tell him that he shouldn’t pine away, though. He’d done too much of that already for his wife.

  Rowe took the tickets from the attendant and handed one to Marissa.

  “Where to first?” she asked as they walked through the vendor tables.

  “You can point me to the ring toss.” Rowe stopped to reply before venturing back into his musings.

  Here he was, trying to shed his past and his melancholy. Was Marissa just another distraction? A pretty face, a damsel in distress…a new way to get his mind off of Josephine?

  And what of Marissa? What is she scared of? That I’ll judge her? That the town will shun her? Many people were doing that to her long before he arrived. It couldn’t be the full reason for her aversion to him.

  The wind kicked at his back. You’d be sinning if you were to become involved with her.

  But he was already involved, far in over his head. And he couldn’t think straight enough to know his own motivations about it, much less hers.

  The fair was in full swing. People from both towns gathered at the field’s center to hear the band play their fiddles. To one side young men and children filled the gaming stalls, throwing darts, hitting and missing their targets. A man sat in the dunking booth, jeering at whoever tried to aim a ball at the mechanism that would send him under the water. Rowe decided to join in the festivities.

  Marissa read the show lineup on a sheet of paper tacked to a post. “I want to see the lassoist and horse trainer. It also says here the dancing starts at five.”

  The scent of smoked sausage and corn fritters wafted from a nearby vendor. Rowe looked to the gaming stalls. “Mind if I try to dunk the man over here first?”

  They approached the booth. The man sitting above the water continued to heckle the participants.

  “Is that the best ya got?” he cried as a burly man threw a ball and missed. The man threw again, and the ball harmlessly bounced off the side of the target and onto the ground.

  “Better luck next year, when you strengthen that arm. Who’s next?”

  Rowe paid the attendant for two turns and stepped up to the white line where he was to throw the balls.

  “Oh, a fancy city man.” The long-john-wearing heckler remarked upon the cut of Rowe’s coat. “Let’s see if yer as big and strong as you look.”

  Rowe threw the ball at the booth, missing twice. On the third try the ball hit just above its target.

  “Guess they only use their arms in the city to hail a carriage driver.”

  “May I try?” Marissa asked when Rowe went for a second turn.

  “What’s this?” the heckler called out. “Sendin’ a little woman out to do a big man’s work?”

  “She’s bigger ’n’ you, Grover,” an onlooker shot back.

  Rowe looked on in fascination as Marissa blo
cked out the taunts and concentrated on the mark, pulling her arm back to let the ball fly.

  It found its target. Grover hit the water with a big splash, succeeding in drenching himself and anyone else standing close by.

  Marissa turned to Rowe and the attendant. “I grew tired of his taunting,” she put it plainly.

  “I see why your aim is famous.” Rowe shook his head, amused and impressed.

  For her effort the attendant presented her with a prize of a stuffed doll.

  “Well, that suits you more than me.” Rowe rubbed the back of his neck. He said that for his own benefit, and she rewarded him with a teasing smile. The day at the fair could have a chance of going well after all.

  Chapter 18

  THEY SPENT THE next hours playing more games, including darts, which Rowe fared much better in, and foot racing. Marissa cheered him on as he beat the other eight men and took home a prize of a bread and cheese basket.

  His relaxed humor throughout the day made her chuckle. Unlike the other men she knew in her former life, who only approached her because they wanted a drink or something that she was unwilling to offer, Rowe genuinely enjoyed her company.

  Maybe she had been too hasty in discouraging his friendship.

  Affection was a better word. She heard him say he wanted more than friendship. The notion left her as frightened and vulnerable as the first time a man put hands on her. Rowe could lose his job if he wasn’t careful.

  She forced herself to put aside her heavy thoughts. For now she and Rowe had time to themselves without one person from Assurance giving them so much as a curious glance or frowning lip. Marissa visited her favorite seasonal purveyors at a slower pace while Rowe ventured from stall to stall, eyeing the wares and talking amiably to the vendors.

  She left a table filled with lotions and toiletries to catch up with him when she collided with another woman.

  Marissa skirted back, while Sophie nearly toppled over. Whirling back to Marissa, her pretty heart-shaped face turned up and puckered like a bulb onion.

  “You did that on purpose!”

  “I’m sorry, Sophie. I didn’t even see you.”