Rowe knew that today was Marissa’s deadline for returning to the saloon. He wasn’t certain if Jason would personally come for her, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.
On his way to Zachary’s shop he passed the newspaper office. For the first time in his life he feared the gossip column.
“Nothing I can do if it’s already printed.” He muttered the reminder to himself and walked on.
Residents gathered below Zachary’s storefront. A commotion was going on inside. A woman yelled to get the sheriff. Rebecca.
Icy fingers spread across Rowe’s back. He pushed through the crowd and clambered through the open door.
Jason was there with one of his clerks. Behind them the Arthurs and Marissa stood with their backs to the wall. Zachary held his cane in front of him like a bayonet, ready to thrust it at the two barmen.
“You heard my wife. Get outta here before the sheriff comes to place you under arrest.”
“The only person the sheriff is gonna arrest is you, old timer. I haven’t done any thievin’, but you sure have by taking my employee.”
Marissa saw Rowe. Jason turned. “Look who’s here, Pete. The meddlin’ reverend don’t know how to keep himself out of trouble.”
Rowe had no weapon and couldn’t tell whether the two men concealed firearms beneath their jackets. “You heard Mr. Arthur. They don’t want you here.”
“Doesn’t matter what they want. I’m here to collect my property. Marissa is coming to the saloon with me now.”
“No, I’m not.” Marissa’s refusal came out strong, although she had to be shaking inside. “I’ll sooner march myself up to the jailhouse this instant before I go back to that filthy hovel.”
“Unless you got a lawyer hiding in the back room, you best start marching, darlin’.”
Jason and Pete made a space for her to pass. In all likelihood they would grab her as soon as she came within reach. Rowe went between them and moved to stand in front of Marissa.
“She’s not going anywhere.”
Jason laughed, but his eyes were hard and without humor. “Are you her lawyer now too?”
“No, but I can speak on her behalf.”
“How so?” asked Pete. “You got no claim over her. Saving souls don’t count for much when a name’s signed to a piece of paper.”
“Maybe not, but I have admitted to courting her. If she agrees, we’ll be engaged shortly.”
A collective gasp went up from the first row of onlookers outside. The reaction continued down the line as those in front spread the word to those in the back.
Marissa surprised Rowe with a strong grip on his arm. Her widened eyes met his as though she were searching for symptoms of lunacy. “Are you insane?”
It was a desperate maneuver, but Rowe could think of no other solution that would work as fast. He took her shoulders in a firm, excited grip. “I remember there being laws in Virginia that a man can claim ownership of his wife’s property and enter into contracts for her. If we marry, I have a sure say that you won’t work for Jason.”
The saloon proprietor made no further show of mirth. “Kansas doesn’t have laws like Virginia.”
“That’s true, but Kansas has laws that forbid married women from engaging in any contract against their husband’s wishes. That’s factual for almost all the states.”
Marissa put her cold, nervous hand on his. “What if the contract was signed before a marriage took place?”
Rowe dared to believe she was considering what he said. As he also weighed the implications of them being married, his speech became rapid. “No judge will force you to serve drinks or dance with other men all night if your husband doesn’t want you to.”
“A judge only has to look at a man like Jason and tell there’s nothing respectable about working for him,” Zachary put in.
Marissa clasped her hands in reservation. She spoke low so only Rowe could hear. “We can’t marry. I told you that this has to end. You’re not involved any longer.”
“Yes, I am. I meant every word when I promised that Jason would never harm you again.”
“At the cost of your own livelihood?”
“How could I minister knowing that I allowed you to go to jail?” He thought of the sacrifices he made in the past for his fellow citizens during the war. None of those acts compared to the cost he was going to pay for Marissa to be free. If marrying her meant his ruin as Assurance’s pastor, then at least he could live out his days knowing that he kept her from being lustfully procured by Jason or any man.
“I can get Mr. Boyd to help.” She put up a fight still.
“And if he loses the argument before the judge? No, this way you won’t ever go to jail.”
“Get out of my way.” Jason dashed forward to seize her. Rowe blocked him. Pete moved to assist, but a man in the doorway grabbed him before he could.
The sheriff shouted from outside. “Alright, folks, what’s goin’ on here?” The people parted for him to enter the store. “What’s the ruckus about?”
Jason smoothed his jacket before facing the sheriff. “Sir, Reverend Winford is interfering with official business. I came here peacefully to collect Miss Pierce for her work in the saloon. Tell this man to step aside.”
McGee cast a tired look at Rowe. “We spoke about this before. I’m afraid you have no argument against Mr. Garth. You’re gonna have to let the woman go or face arrest.”
The sheriff would have to pry Rowe away before he allowed an injustice to occur. “These people will see how you allowed a woman to be taken into a saloon against her will. How will that look on your election ticket for the next campaign, Sheriff?”
The flesh around McGee’s face moved and all but concealed a narrow portion of his small eyes. “You really think your high-falutin’ learnin’ and fancy talk puts you above the law, don’t you, son?”
“Please, Sheriff. No, he doesn’t.” Marissa’s plea carried across the store. “He’s speaking on my behalf.” She gazed up at Rowe with fear and a glimmer of hope in the depths of her brown eyes. “As my fiancé.”
Rowe couldn’t decide if he should breathe a sigh of relief, kiss Marissa in front of everybody, or wonder aloud what he had done. He could save her from a terrible fate, even if it cost him his position and his ministerial license.
Jason pointed a finger at Marissa’s hand. “It’s a sham proposal. He didn’t ask her to marry him. There’s no ring.”
“You heard him say that she would become his wife,” Zachary shouted as he made an arcing motion at the door with his cane. “The folks outside heard him. That’s at least fifteen witnesses, countin’ Rebecca and myself.”
“There was no proposal,” Pete countered. “He didn’t ask the question.”
As Jason and Zachary got into a shouting match over the sheriff’s call for order, Rowe dropped to one knee. “Marissa, will you marry me?”
It was hardly the proposal he thought he would make, inside a shoe shop of all places, under the threat of law enforcement and a corrupt business owner. The sheriff, Jason, Pete, and all others standing by grew silent as they awaited Marissa’s answer. He saw her eyes well with tears, and he knew they were from anything but joy.
“I will.” She placed her hand in his.
Zachary stamped his cane on the floor. “There you have it. Husband and wife-to-be. Call Tom to put it in the paper.”
“There ain’t no ring.” Jason’s voice was ice cold.
Sheriff McGee shook his head. “A ring’s not necessary to a marriage proposal. I heard her say yes.”
“She’ll have a ring soon,” Rowe promised.
The sheriff waved Jason and Pete away. “Everybody get out. Go on back to tendin’ your business. You folks outside, move on over yonder.”
“This isn’t over.” Jason looked squarely at the Arthurs. “I’m leaving for Coffeyville today to have my lawyer draw up the papers for your lawsuit. I’ll get my money one way or the other. And my woman.”
Rowe put Marissa behin
d him. “She’s spoken for now, Jason.”
The saloon proprietor edged in close. “You had better be gone by the time I get back. And if you take her with you, I’ll hunt you down and shoot you both.”
“Garth, did you hear what I said, or do you want to be jailed for trespassing?” The sheriff called to him from the doorway.
Jason left the premises. McGee stood guard until he and Pete were safely down the street.
“Thank you,” Rowe said to him.
The sheriff made a hacking sound and spat in the dirt outside. “Don’t thank me. Boy, you’ve got to be the dumbest educated fool this side of the Missoura. You have no idea of the kind of trouble you just heaped upon yourself.”
Chapter 21
HE’S RIGHT,” MARISSA voiced as McGee tended to the people out in the streets. “We have time to retain Mr. Boyd before Jason gets back from Coffeyville.”
Her newly minted fiancé took her hand. It was a strange and foreign thing, to have someone as a betrothed. If anything, she had imagined leaving the saloon and living a decent life somewhere as a spinster with a cloaked past. Never in her wildest imaginings had she thought she would marry a minister.
Rowe said, “I didn’t do this to buy time. Is that why you agreed to marry me?”
“I thought you were only saying those things in front of Jason to get rid of him.” She didn’t really think that, but at the same time she couldn’t believe what he had done either.
“This town can call me many things after today, but they can’t call me a liar. As soon as I make my wages, I’ll get you a ring.”
Rebecca clapped. “Such a relief to have this dilemma resolved.”
Zachary affirmed her statement. “You’re going to be a wife, Mari. Your problems with Jason are over for good.”
Marissa’s heart cried out for her to embrace what they said, but her mind drew caution. She retreated from Rowe, wanting the space between them for safety, to distance herself from his magnetic pull and her own heart’s longing. She broke off the courtship to protect him, and here he ran right back into courting trouble. She didn’t know whether to rejoice or weep.
“You two have much to plan in a short time. Zachary, we should let them talk.” Rebecca put a hand on her husband’s shoulder and directed him to the stockroom of the store. “You know where to find us.”
Marissa stared mutely at the couple as they retreated from view. Left with Rowe, she could either face him or go outside among the townsfolk, where news of the proposal was spreading far as dust from a good gust of prairie wind. The latter choice was akin to slapping herself across the face. “We have a scandal.”
“We have a wedding.” His voice resounded with more life than hers, but it did contain trepidation. Rowe was not completely oblivious to the consequences. “It will take Jason at least two days to ride to Coffeyville and back, and that’s if he doesn’t stop to rest. That leaves forty-eight hours to obtain a marriage license and find a clergy in Claywalk to perform the ceremony.” He crossed her boundary of space.
Marissa folded her arms in front of her, one last physical barrier that Rowe could not penetrate without force. “I can’t marry you in two days.”
“I’ll respect any decision or idea you come up with, but this is the best I know to do. If you’re still worried about my reputation, the damage is done, as far as the town sees it.”
Already he began to accept his changed fate. Marissa sighed heavily and chewed on her lip. “We are so different. I don’t think of God the way you do.”
“But you believe in Him.”
“I believe He exists, but that’s different from how happy you become when you preach about Him. We’d be unequally yoked, as Abel said.”
Rowe paused, looking out the store window at the people walking through the open door of Tom Euell’s newspaper office. “Joy in the Lord can’t be taught or forced. In time I hope you see things differently.”
“It’s not only that.”
“Then tell me what it is that you’re afraid of.”
That odd voice spoke in her mind’s ear. He will do to you as Jason has done. All men use women for one purpose or another.
What could she possibly offer Rowe? Marissa listened to the voice as though it were an actual person standing before her.
You’re his pawn to regain the church. Some would think it good that he redeemed you through marriage.
Marissa coughed at an irritation that caught in her throat. Rowe moved his hand to her, but she stopped him with a swift shake of her head. “Give me the weekend to think.” She swallowed, and the irritation was gone.
“Think about what? You just accepted my proposal.”
“Give me some time. Please, just wait till Monday to get the marriage license.” Seeing how he looked far from pleased with the dismissal, she added, “I didn’t say I wouldn’t marry you. I just need to be left with my thoughts.”
His face darkened with an emotion that he contained. Marissa was sure he had plenty to say, but he remained respectful of her boundaries.
“The weekend then. But I want to know by Monday morning if you’ve truly accepted my proposal.”
The screen door clattered against the frame as he exited. His leaving strides were brisk as his heels dug hard into the gritty dirt road.
Marissa second-guessed herself, wondering if her success in delaying her decision was a failure at a second chance at life.
Zachary and Rebecca turned anxiously when she opened the door to the stockroom.
“What was said out there?” asked Rebecca. “Where’s Rowe?”
“I suppose he went home.” There was no other respectable establishment he could go to, especially in the mood she sent him away in. “I told him that I would give him an answer on Monday.”
“Why, Mari? He offered the best solution any of us could think of. He wants to marry you, even if you didn’t need his help.”
“I need time. Marriage is forever, and I can’t just go from one…situation to another. He knows that.”
How could she explain her reasoning to them when they agreed with Rowe’s idea? The shame of having to tell Rowe of the liberties Jason took with her made her cringe inside.
Rebecca’s face settled into a frown, and she tossed her head. “Marriage is not a ‘situation.’ It’s a perfectly normal life event.”
“When it naturally progresses. Rowe’s proposal would not have come today but for Jason’s contract.” Marissa heard the saloon keeper’s mocking voice in her head. He won’t have you as his wife. You’re far from the gentle, sheltered woman he’ll pick to marry.
“And how do you know if Rowe’s proposal today isn’t part of God’s timing for you? He is a good man who’ll help anyone, but he wouldn’t offer marriage if he didn’t want to be your husband.”
Zachary touched Rebecca’s hand. “What she’s trying to say, Mari, is that she thinks you should accept Rowe’s proposal. She believes he’ll be a good husband for you, and so do I.”
“I haven’t told him no.” Marissa felt cornered, as if they thought her a fool for not jumping at such a perfect offer. If only they knew the mixed feelings tumbling through her. “Once I’m married to him, how will the town treat us? Will they run us out? I don’t know if he can live with the possibility of never having a congregation because of my past.”
“We can’t answer those questions any better than you, Mari,” Zachary said softly.
An ache quickened from her hands to the soles of her feet as she envisioned Rowe’s inevitable disappointment in her— and in their life together.
Rowe didn’t sleep well that night. He tossed and turned, his mind concocting unwelcome scenarios in which Marissa refused to marry him and ran back into Jason’s arms. Finally he managed to drift off in a dreadful doze and dreamed of Marissa behind bars, calling his name while Jason steadily approached with a sharp knife. His feet were sealed into the ground like lead. He awoke to her scream reverberating in his ears.
Rowe lay still until
the reality of the silent bedchamber took over his dream-addled senses. “I have to stop this.”
Arising from the bed, his nightshirt dampened with sweat, he poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher. As the cool liquid ran down his dry throat, he steadied his mind against the disturbing dreams.
Moonlight streamed through the upstairs window to provide a natural light in the dark, allowing him to focus toward the rumpled bed and one nightstand. He imagined Marissa as his wife, with all its implications. Her aversion to matrimony ran deeper than her fears of being judged. He understood why she distrusted men. She needed someone willing to show her the love that God intended for men and women to share. Something happened to close her from receiving that love. Marissa desired it, that Rowe could tell every time they were in each other’s presence, but she always stopped short of accepting it.
He never imagined that he could love another woman again after Josephine. Yet God sent Marissa when he least expected, where he wasn’t looking. Would she accept him on Monday? In a few agonizingly slow hours he would be betrothed to Marissa, or left behind with yet another memory of a woman he had loved and lost.
As the sun continued to rise in the midmorning sky, Rowe made his way to the post office. The mundane errand would occupy his time for the rest of the Saturday morning, and then he would need something to do in the afternoon.
Citizens lined up in front of the counter for letters from back home or mail-order packages. Rowe stood in the tiny, two-window structure as he waited his turn. The post office clerk peered at him above thick bifocals when he came up to the counter. “Haven’t seen you here in a while, Reverend.” Mercifully he didn’t go into a conversation about what happened the day before.
“I neglected to see if I received any mail in the past two weeks.”
“Mail’s been delayed since that twister touched down in Fort Leavenworth. You had quite a bit last time I checked, though.” The clerk swiveled in his chair to the section of mail boxes behind him on the wall. He pulled out one drawer and combed through it, withdrawing a tidy stack of envelopes tied up with string. “Most of these are from Virginia.”
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