He stretched his long legs as best he could in the boat. “You always remember the person. The pain of the loss subsides in time.”
“Do you think of her often?”
His eyes darkened, reflecting the lake’s grayish surface. “Josephine was my first love, and for that she will always have a place in my heart.” He changed the subject. “Tell me about your family.”
“My mother was a short-hire cook before she met my father. Oh, how I miss her food. She could bake the sweetest strawberry pies and season meats as though they had been smoked and cured for hours.” Her mouth watered as she pictured her mother chopping garlic, onions, and rubbing meat with ground peppercorn and rosemary.
“Judging by the dinner you prepared the other night, I’d say you inherited her skills.”
“Thank you, but her food would put the great chefs to shame.”
“Did her looks resemble yours?”
Marissa closed her eyes, envisioning her mother’s appearance. “She was tall for a woman, a few inches shorter than me, with beautiful, thick black hair and green eyes. She carried herself with dignity and elegance, even during the last days when she fell ill.”
“You miss her, don’t you?” His mellow baritone was gentle and compassionate.
“Yes, I do. Some days it seems like so many years have passed. Other times I think I’ll see her walk down the street, talking and laughing with my grandmother.”
“What of your father?”
Marissa disconnected from her warm feelings of remembrance as she described Greg Pierce. “I didn’t see much of him, except when he came home after a gambling stint. He was a firm, stoic man. Very tall, built solid like an ox.”
“Was he affectionate when he saw you and your mother?”
“He didn’t know how to be anything but a gambler. I can’t fault him without criticizing my mother. She could have returned to Assurance without him, but she chose to remain in Missouri.”
“Was your father near when your mother passed?”
“To this day I doubt if he knows what happened to her. He left my mother and me in the room of a dirty inn and disappeared with the last of our earnings. They weren’t much, but he said he would make good on them and come back for us. I haven’t seen him since.”
Rowe lifted the boat paddle for a piece of driftwood to float by. “Men have failed you all your life.” He didn’t look at her, giving her the space to absorb his words.
“Not all men. Mr. Arthur is like the father I’ve never had. You’re the first man to see past my dancehall costume.”
His reflection in the water mirrored his show of remorse. “I’ve failed you too, Marissa. I didn’t get there in time to save you from Jason. If I had given a little more thought to that sermon, he would not have reason to lash out at you.”
“Yes, he would. Jason always finds an outlet to relieve his frustrations.”
“Still, this particular instance is my fault.”
“You love to blame yourself, don’t you? Listen to me when I say this, then. I forgive you, Rowe.”
He reached across the boat and took her hands in his, giving them a squeeze. Their eyes did all of the communication that rendered words unnecessary. Marissa’s window of opportunity to end their courtship steadily closed as she allowed him to come dangerously near.
“Reverend, is that you?”
Marissa flung herself back so fast that the little boat pitched dangerously to its side. It recovered balance just before water could spill into the bottom. On the lakeshore the traveling orator Abel Yancey waded out with his fishing line cast. Behind him four men dragged two boats into the water.
“What are you doing out here?” Abel waded until the water reached his waist. He didn’t seem to be worried that the volume of his voice scared the fish. “Who’s that with you?”
Marissa sank to the floor of the boat. She thought for certain that the bellowing man had traveled to the next town. She hadn’t seen him on the platform in town square for weeks.
Rowe studied her reaction before lifting his hand to wave. “Afternoon, Mr. Yancey. Fine day for fishing, isn’t it?”
The speaker cackled. “Oh, you’re not out here fishing, Reverend. At least not for catfish.”
Marissa wanted to drown, but with no plans for a watery grave that day, she was forced to remain in the boat.
“We thought no one else was at the lake,” Rowe admitted.
Abel’s laugh issued forth for the second time. “I can see that. Who is the lady? Is it that Rheins girl?”
The men in the pair of boats paddled out. One boat got close to where a blond-bearded man took a good look at her face. “It’s one of Jason’s girls!”
Murmuring broke out among the men. Marissa heard an aspersion cast on her birth. With no further point in hiding her identity, she turned to face Abel. His jovial face deteriorated to a contemptuous frown that reached to the wrinkles below his hairline.
“How could you be seen with this woman, Reverend Winford? You know where she’s from.”
Rowe rested his hands on the oars. If he was just as embarrassed as she was, he concealed it far better. “I do, but that’s all past. Miss Pierce has made herself into a respectable woman. We need to treat her as such.”
Marissa liked hearing him say that, though he was only half right. Jason still had a rope around her ankle to drag her back into the saloon.
Abel lowered his fishing line. “How do you know she’s respectable? None of us have seen her in church.”
The blond-bearded man chimed in. “You’re not courtin’ her, are you, Reverend?”
Marissa gazed at Rowe. He didn’t look at her before answering. “I’m not a man to dally with a woman’s affections.”
“So you admit it? You are courting this ungodly woman?”
“‘Be ye not unequally yoked with unbelievers,’” Abel quoted.
Marissa withered under their attacks. How could she have thought she could see him again, even one last time? “I should be going home. Would you please paddle the boat to shore?”
Rowe gave no indication that he heard her request. “Mr. Yancey, I’m well aware of what the Bible instructs. Miss Pierce is not a heathen. The town will eventually see that.”
“But why must you be involved? There are properly raised ladies that you can court instead of one trained up in a brothel. Don’t let that harlot make a fool out of you.”
“She’s not a harlot. This is hardly the conversation to have out on the middle of the lake with a lady present.”
The men scoffed at the mention of Marissa being a lady. He went on, undaunted. “Excuse me while I escort Miss Pierce home. To answer your question, yes, I am courting her.”
He paddled the boat away. His jaw clenched tightly, and Marissa saw the veins in his neck. “Coming to the lake was a bad idea. I should have declined yesterday.”
He said nothing.
She persisted. “They’re right. We shouldn’t be seen together.”
“They’re not right. Those men think that a person can’t change. It’s not Christian to hold someone’s mistakes over their head forever.”
“You told them you were courting me.”
“I know what I said.”
“Do you? You’re digging yourself a grave. Abel is a well-known orator in these parts. He’ll go from town to town, spreading the word about you and what he saw today.”
“I can’t control what he does, Marissa. I can’t lie and say I’m not courting you.”
Marissa held her head. “I was enjoying the attention too much. I would have been wise to make you go away.”
“How do you intend to do that this time? I don’t scare easily.”
She thought of the rape, how Jason’s crime made her unclean more than any dance in a saloon or spilled drink could accomplish. “You can’t court me. If you knew everything about my past, you wouldn’t be so quick to speak up for me in front of everyone.”
The boat reached the shallows. Rowe climbed ou
t and pulled it farther up shore, tugging with more force than necessary. “Then tell me what I should know.”
Marissa opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. Just thinking about the act Jason committed, the pain that signified the loss of innocence, the bleeding that followed, made the fainting sensations return. She gulped for air.
“Marissa?” Rowe dropped the boat. His stone face became gentle. “Are you ill?”
She gathered her wits before he attempted to carry her ashore like a delicate wounded deer. “Enough. I’m not sweet, nor am I innocent.” She scrambled out in the shallow water, wetting her boots and dress hem. “If you want to keep the remaining good standing that you have, you’ll forget about me. I’m sorry I did this to you. Now let me return home—alone.”
He started forward, hand outstretched, but her defiant stare held him back. And with one waterlogged boot in front of the other, she made sopping tracks for Assurance.
Chapter 20
HOW WAS YOUR boat ride?” asked Rebecca.
Marissa had hoped to creep into the Arthurs’ home unnoticed, but it was a difficult thing to do in damp clothes and squeaking shoe soles. The gray skies decided to open up on the way home, releasing a shower that put the appropriate ending on a sour afternoon.
“We went back to shore early.” Marissa hoped Rebecca would think it was from the rain and not press her for further explanation. She removed her boots near the door.
“Why didn’t the reverend escort you home?” Zachary asked from his seat at the dining table, where he was awaiting supper. The scent of stew floated in from the kitchen.
“I wouldn’t let him.”
“Why?”
There was no way to sugarcoat the truth. Best the Arthurs hear it from her before it was the tittle-tattle of the town. Marissa lifted the wet collar that clung to the back of her neck. “Because he told some men of the town that he was courting me.”
Zachary eyed the pot of stew like a famished wolf when Rebecca went to take it off the stove. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Yes,” Rebecca came from the kitchen. “He’s an upright man, close to your age, and really cares about you. I’d say that’s wonderful news.”
Marissa sank in one of the chairs, never mind her wet clothes. A damp circle formed in the table wood under her elbow. “You should have seen the disgust in the faces of those men. I imagine they’re racing to town now to spread the word. Rowe will lose his position in the church for sure.”
Rebecca set the stewpot on the table, then pulled up a chair. “If he chose to court you, the town would have to find out sooner or later. You can’t hide those things.”
Marissa fiddled with her shirt sleeve. “I won’t let him lose the respect he needs to do his job.”
Zachary frowned. “You think he’s just gonna do what you say, Mari? From what I know of our new preacher, he’s a pretty determined young man. Supposin’ he comes to the store to see you tomorrow?”
Marissa’s thoughts rolled over to the deadline Jason gave her to return to the saloon. “I won’t be there.”
“You can’t hide out from people.”
“No, it’s not that.” She looked down at her hands. It was time to tell them. “Tomorrow I will be returning to work at Jason’s saloon.”
“What!” Zachary and Rachel gasped simultaneously.
Marissa quickly explained the contract clause to them and how it had been presented to her. “Even if I don’t go to him,” she concluded, “I can’t continue working at your store. Jason will sue.”
Zachary’s face reddened with anger. “You will not return to work for that man. Not if I have any say about it.”
To protect them, Marissa tried to sound matter-of-fact. “He has a legally enforceable agreement until a judge says otherwise. I didn’t want to tell you about it, but if Jason wins in court, my only choices are to work for him, be sued, or go to jail. You can be sued too for hiring me while I was under contract for him.”
“How can you be jailed for refusing to work at that bawdy house?” Zachary’s voice boomed with indignation. “Any officer of the peace would see that Jason’s business practices are illegal.”
“They have to be proven first, and none of the regular patrons will speak up because they like the drinks and the women. I spoke to a lawyer in Claywalk about it.”
“But you said the saloon is having money problems.” Rebecca twisted a napkin in her hands, her face lined with distress.
Marissa ached at how the woman was suffering on her account. She wished she had packed up months ago and run out of town. “It is having money problems, but again, the contract states that until the saloon recovers or shuts down, I have to honor my agreement. I’m such an idiot for not reading the fine print.”
“That’s nothing to be callin’ yourself.” Zachary was closest to the stewpot and pushed it away. Marissa didn’t want anything to eat either.
“You’re going to the store tomorrow. I won’t leave you at the house by yourself. Have you told Rowe this?”
She nodded. “We already went to the sheriff. McGee said as long as there’s a contract, he can’t do anything if he doesn’t have incontestable proof that Jason beat me.” Zachary drummed the table in thought. “What if the reverend spoke to the judge?”
“I know you think highly of Rowe, Mr. Arthur. He’s a good man, but his opinion is not enough to dispute a written and signed agreement.”
Marissa exhausted her mind for solutions to her dilemma, things she could explain to the circuit judge. What could she say or do, short of showing them her old wounds and hoping they would believe her?
She pushed her chair away from the table. “I didn’t want to bring trouble to you, yet it’s already started. I will put a stop to it. That’s a promise. Now please let me go rest and think. It’s been a long day.”
The Arthurs glanced at each other, then nodded reluctant assent. With a heavy heart she left the room.
Rowe wondered if he should have dispensed with being a gentleman and followed Marissa back home against her wishes. No woman should walk alone in the rain, even one who rejected his offer of courtship.
Muttering to himself, he loaded Mike O’Hara’s boat onto his wagon and drove it into town to return it to its rightful owner. At first he was too distracted by his own emotions to notice anything around him. But after he dropped off the boat, he began to notice the stares of the townspeople he passed. Apparently the news had spread already of his tête-à-tête with Marissa. He guessed Abel and his friends had abandoned their fishing trip in favor of a more entertaining pastime. Gossip.
On his way out of town Mr. Charlton flagged him down so he was forced to stop. “Reverend, I’d like a word, if you please.” The tone of Mr. Charlton’s voice told him he’d better climb from the wagon or risk having his business trumpeted all over town. Rowe complied.
“I heard you were out on the lake with that dancehall girl, Reverend. I didn’t think Abel Yancey was a fibber, but I had to ask you for myself.”
Rowe kept his tone even. “He wasn’t lying. Miss Pierce and I were at the lake together.”
Mr. Charlton regarded him carefully. “Courting?”
Rowe heard that word so many times in one day he thought he would never be able to drive it out of his head. “Yes, but as she’s no longer here, I don’t think we need to discuss this.”
“Where’d she go?” Mr. Charlton gazed at the wagon as if Marissa could be hiding within its bed.
“Suffice it to say she is not present.” Rowe wasn’t going to tell him why Marissa left. Especially since her warning about the gossip they would provoke had proved prophetic.
“For a man of God you’ve shown sloppy behavior.” Sophie’s father declared. “I don’t know how preachers back East carry on, but in Kansas we expect more out of our church leaders.”
If the weight of their condemnation were an actual stone, Rowe would sink to the bottom of the lake. “What would it take for you to see that Miss Pierce has cha
nged? She’s a part of this town just as we are. I can’t—won’t—shun her because you want me to.”
Mr. Charlton held up a hand in an apparent attempt to appear reasonable. “We didn’t say you should shun Miss Pierce, but do you have to go boating together? Surely there are other, more eligible young women you might consider.”
Rowe stiffened at the thinly veiled reference to his daughter. “Thank you for your insight, Mr. Charlton, but I’ll do fine to think for myself.”
Sophie’s father huffed. “No, Reverend. You’re not doing much thinking at all. We hired you because we thought you had the credentials to lead our church. ”
The Charltons were a very influential family in Assurance and the church. To fall out of their good graces was to lose favor with everyone. Rowe was treading on hot coals, but he had to stand up to the wealthy patriarch. “With all due respect, Mr. Charlton, you scolded Sophie for judging Marissa when she knew little about her. Now you do the same.”
The man exploded. “Don’t call me a hypocrite.”
“You were in church when I preached about gossip destroying people. The town won’t let Marissa make a new life. In a sense you’re all condemning her to die.”
“Jason and those strumpets are to blame for our problems. He sells immorality, and you made a purchase!”
The accusation incensed Rowe. Blood hammered in his veins and rushed to his head. “The people here allowed Jason to have the saloon. It’s him we need to deal with. I came here to preach, not help start a witch hunt.”
Mr. Charlton growled. “Then do your job before we find someone who will.”
The next morning Rowe felt the sting of rejection all over again as he went into town. People stared at him but said nothing in passing. Was this what Marissa went through every day that she worked in the saloon? He began to understand why she thought there was no escape. The residents of Assurance were set in their ways. He wished he had more experience as a minister. His old seminary instructors would know what to do.
They wouldn’t be caught in your predicament. The fiendish voice taunted him as a dry wind blew through the unpaved streets.
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