The Preacher's Wife

by Brandi Boddie

  Rowe was furious to see his brother inebriated and walking the streets like an addle-pated vagabond, and even more outraged at his words. “She won’t be under contract when we’re married. It’s Jason’s one last ploy to get her to come back to him.”

  “Let him have her,” he slurred. “What would our family think of you chasing after common whores?”

  “That’s enough. You’re going to pack your trunk and stay at an inn until the next train arrives to take you back East. I won’t have you living under the same roof with me anymore.” Rowe signaled to the horses.

  Nathaniel jumped in front of the wagon. “Why?”

  Rowe had to yank hard on the reins. The schooner jerked back and bounced on its axles. Marissa fell against him. “Because you have no respect for my future wife. Get out of my way, Nathaniel. I’m not going to shout at you in the middle of the street.”

  His brother carried on, ignoring him. “Respect for her? I don’t have any respect for you anymore. You call yourself a minister, but you yoke yourself with the worst kind of woman.”

  “I’m being patient with you. Don’t provoke me.”

  “You would choose a slattern over your own blood?”

  “Nathaniel, look.” Marissa interjected, rising from her seat. She held out her hand with the ring. “Rowe gave me this tonight. I’ll cherish it and him forever. Tell me what to do to make you see that.”

  “Marissa, sit down.” Rowe didn’t need her to get involved, even if she was the main topic.

  But she continued to try to assuage Nathaniel’s contempt. “You are so very wrong about me. Jason should have told you about my position. I was not a prostitute.”

  “If he didn’t tell me, I’ll surely not hear it from you.”

  Rowe saw the look of despair upon Marissa’s face as she sank down. He could stand it no longer. “Nathaniel, pick up your things at the cabin when you’re sober, and leave.”

  He thrashed the reins and the horses dashed forward. Nathaniel jumped out of the way in the nick of time.

  Rowe pulled the wagon up to the Arthurs’ house, pausing before he climbed out. “Marissa, I’m sorry for my brother’s drunken outburst. You’ll never have to deal with him again.”

  Marissa willed herself not to cry. It wasn’t the first time she had been called names, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. She was determined that Rowe not see how much Nathaniel’s hateful words upset her. Rowe had worked hard to surprise her with the ring. The least she could do was put on a brave face.

  He kissed her good night. She felt too empty inside to enjoy it.

  Inside the house, while Zachary and Rebecca admired her ring, her mind was on Nathaniel’s stinging appraisal of her station and the renewed threat of Jason in town. Everything he told Nathaniel was indication that he schemed to get her back.

  Rebecca grasped Marissa’s hand and moved it under the light. “I was going to let you borrow my gloves for the wedding, but it would be a shame to hide such a pretty ring.”

  Despite herself, Marissa smiled as the garnets cast little dots of red light across the table surface.

  “Goodness, only one more full day to prepare.” Rebecca tapped on the table. “I have so much to do.”

  Zachary chuckled. “You’re not the one getting hitched.”

  “That is beside the point, Zachary Arthur. I’m still making sure Mari’s the prettiest bride in Kansas. We’ll practice dressing your hair tomorrow, Mari, alright?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “See, Rebecca? Even she’s not as fidgety as you.” Zachary pulled himself to his feet by grabbing the edge of the table. “You are feeling better about getting married to the reverend, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” Marissa preferred not to mention what Nathaniel said. In two days the point would be moot.

  The next day she sat for Rebecca while the older woman contemplated hairstyles.

  “What if we interlace pearls instead of an ornament?”

  She combed and gathered Marissa’s hair in an array of beautiful, complicated twists. The Arthurs’ bedroom was turned into a bridal dress chamber, with open trinket cases laid out containing Rebecca’s decorative hair combs and jewelry. A powder blue gown newly purchased from the general store covered the quilt on the bed. Stockings, gloves, bustle, corset, and underskirt surrounded the two women.

  “I think I can weave my pearl necklace at the crown and thread it through the top knot.” Rebecca demonstrated by taking a section of hair and pinning it into a high bun. “What do you think?”

  “It’s going to look stunning, whatever you do with it.” Marissa picked up a hand mirror so she could view her profile.

  “Of course, I’ll have to set your hair once we get to the hotel in Claywalk tomorrow morning. The wind between here and there will make a rat’s nest of my work.”

  “I can’t believe I’m getting married tomorrow. We were fortunate to find a preacher to officiate the ceremony on short notice.”

  Rebecca held the comb poised above Marissa’s head. She stared, reminiscent, into the larger vanity mirror. “How I wish that Elizabeth were here to see you. You look so much like her.”

  Marissa inspected her own features closely and, for an instant, caught a glimpse of her mother’s bright eyes staring back at her. She turned the hand mirror over in her lap. “What did she look like on the day of her wedding, Mrs. Arthur?”

  “Lovely, dressed all in white.”

  She noted her light blue gown draped across the bed. “I’m unable to wear that color.”

  Rebecca caught her meaning. “Mari, you could have chosen a white dress from the store. You shouldn’t focus on what happened with Jason years ago.”

  Marissa grimaced. “I haven’t told Rowe about what Jason did to me. I was going to last night on the way home from the schooner ride, but his brother interrupted before I could get the chance.”

  “That man is terribly rude. He hasn’t bothered to introduce himself to me or Zachary yet.” Rebecca set her hands upon her hips.

  “Last night Nathaniel had too much to drink and confronted Rowe with everything he heard from Jason. There’s no convincing Nathaniel that I’m not a trollop.”

  “He’s not the one who needs to be convinced. Rowe knows who you are and respects you for breaking free of that saloon.”

  Marissa touched the garnet stones on her ring. “He’s heard so much already that’s not true, but it’s impossible to prove the claims false. Do you think he’ll believe me when I tell him today?” She read the older woman’s face for a positive sign but got a neutral reaction instead.

  “I don’t have an answer for you, ” Rebecca said calmly. “I can only go by what I’ve seen in Rowe’s character. Regardless of his response, you must tell him if you want to start your marriage on a clean slate.”

  “No secrets between us.” Marissa remained at the vanity until Rebecca finished pinning her hair.

  She helped Rebecca finish packing the trunk for the wedding before she left to find Rowe. Marissa located him where she thought he would be, at his cabin, still attempting to repair that broken fence. He was so busy concentrating on his unsuccessful tries at nailing two wood rails together that he didn’t hear her approach.

  “You corroded piece of iron rust.” He hurled insults at the nail. “Do as I tell you!”

  Marissa walked the path to him. His shirt clung to his broad back with sweat as he bent over in the sun. Thick muscles honed from military combat rippled beneath.

  “I am not going to waste the whole day on you.” He drove the nail into the wood and brought his hammer down upon it. Missed by a fraction, he split the wood in two. The nail remained upright in one portion of the ruined rail on the ground.

  Rowe made some animalistic sound and tossed the hammer in the dirt. He sent the wood flying with the toe of his boot.

  “Is this why you’re so calm on Sundays, Reverend? Because you take your frustrations out on our limited supply of timber during the week?”

  He s
pun around. Marissa could hardly keep from giggling. His face was angry, flustered, shocked at the sight of her, and near sunburned all in one. She produced a handkerchief from her dress and wiped his brow.

  “You really shouldn’t do this kind of work during the midday if you’re not used to the heat. It doesn’t get cool here sometimes until well into November.”

  “This is calming for me.” He picked up the hammer and held it above the broken rail. “Good vent of frustration.”

  “Well, I need to have a word with you.”

  He paused in mid-swing. “I thought you’d be busy with wedding preparations today.”

  “I am, but there’s something that’s been on my mind for a long time. You ought to know about it.”

  “Are you getting the jitters?”

  Marissa drummed her foot in the dirt. “Somewhat. But it’s not about the wedding itself. It’s about me. Perhaps you should sit down.”

  He grinned and let the hammer drop in the grass. “I’m not going to faint, Marissa. I’m fine standing, unless you intend to keep me waiting for what you have to say.”

  “I hope you retain your good humor after I’m finished.”

  Rowe laid an encouraging hand on her arm. “Something is obviously weighing on you. What is it?”

  It was now or never. “You know precisely what goes on under the tables of many frontier saloons, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Ill and tawdry practices are everywhere. I’m not the sheltered preacher boy people think I am.”

  “There are things I’ve done as a saloon girl that I’m not proud of.”

  He said nothing, but his eyes showed clear understanding.

  Marissa took a deep breath and went on. “You know this, and you still want me as a proper wife?”

  “I don’t want you for anything less.”

  “Then you must know that I never sold myself, despite what you have been hearing from certain people. But Jason forced himself on me once.”

  She searched Rowe’s face to see if he believed her. Unable to read his expression, she continued. “He told me that I owed him something for taking me in. I didn’t have money. The one valuable thing I did possess, he claimed for himself.”

  “When was this?”

  “Two years ago.”

  He was still and immobile as a granite statue. Only his eyes showed signs of life as they darkened and smoldered to deep cobalt.

  “Rowe, what’s wrong? Say something.”

  His gaze latched onto her like a roiling, stormy sea. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  He put his back to her and trampled through the fence opening. The horse whinnied in anticipation as he placed a saddle pad in front of its withers and laid the saddle across its back in rapid succession.

  “I did want to tell you.” Marissa picked up her skirts to run after him. “I didn’t expect any of this to happen so fast. Not our courtship. Not falling in love. I would have told you eventually if things had progressed at a slower pace.”

  Rowe gathered up the reins and swung onto the horse. “That man. It would have been better if had been anyone but that man.” It was almost as if he were talking to himself.

  The wind picked up speed, blowing through Rowe’s shirt and tearing Marissa’s hair from its pins. His face dark, he rode the horse past her. “You should go home. Now I need time to think.”

  She grew fearful that all was lost. “Where are you going?”

  The wind howled and whistled about them like accursed laughter as he took the path to town. His horse broke into a gallop.

  Marissa called after him, but he didn’t stop. Rowe raced steadily onward, leaving her mind in confusion and her heart shattered in a thousand pieces.

  Chapter 24

  SICKENING FILTH. THAT’S what Jason Garth was to take an unmarried, frightened young girl against her will. Rancid, vile filth.

  Rowe had to leave Marissa before she saw the extent of how angry the disclosure made him. The more he thought about it on the way into town, the more it stirred his already boiling blood.

  That explained why Marissa was hesitant to accept his proposal at first. She was afraid that he would control her as Jason did. It made sense now why she would have sooner gone to jail than risk the possibility of another man’s domination.

  It was also why she shied away from revealing her true self. In fact, Marissa exhibited the same skittishness as widows and young women taken advantage of by soldiers during the War Between the States. Of course he had suspected the abuse, but the truth of the abuser’s identity hurt more than he dared admit. Jason Garth. Would his evil face haunt them the rest of their lives?

  Rowe dismounted in front of the general store and went in for an extra box of nails. He had plenty of them in his tool chest, but he needed to do something to cool his head before he confronted Jason.

  The pain may as well have been stones that crushed her body and spirit, so terrible its effect upon her.

  Marissa trudged the path to town with all the anguish and fear she experienced prior to the past several days returning in full force.

  Jason’s prediction came true. Men did not want soiled saloon girls as permanent fixtures in their lives. Rowe’s rejection proved it.

  How foolish was she to think that a preacher would be different from any other man? It was a must, in fact, that his standards for choosing a wife be infinitely higher.

  He lied to me when he said my past didn’t matter, she thought bitterly. I did learn to trust him with my secret, and see where it went. He could accept my past in the abstract, but not in its naked reality.

  The pit of her stomach turned even more at who she spotted upon arrival at the town square.

  Nathaniel sat on the wooden sidewalk in front of Zachary’s shop, reading an almanac with a degree of distraction. He acknowledged her with a nod as he looked up and tucked the book under his arm.

  “Miss Pierce, allow me to apologize for my rude manner last night. I had a bit too much to drink, and it got to my better judgment.”

  Marissa got out of the street so that a coach could stop parallel in front of the store. “You’ve had an ill opinion of me ever since you met me.”

  Nathaniel gave a remorseful inclination of the head. “Yes, I jumped to conclusions.”

  “I should say so.”

  “Miss Pierce, I only wanted the best for my brother, you understand. He’s had a nasty time since Josephine’s passing.”

  Marissa grew rigid at the mention of Rowe’s first wife. Rowe said he didn’t measure her against Josephine, but that did not stop his brother, Jason, or anyone else who knew about Rowe’s past from doing so.

  “Perhaps Rowe would move on if you’d only let him.”

  Nathaniel nodded complacently. “He is a grown man. If he can abide here, then he has fortitude. I’ll let him live his own life.”

  She was stunned by his change of face. “You will?”

  “Will you accompany me to McIntyre’s for a flavored soda? We can finish talking there.”

  “I don’t know, Mr. Winford.”

  “I’m trying to make amends, as your future brother-in-law.”

  Marissa shook her head and gazed downward. “I’m not sure if there’s going to be any wedding. Rowe and I have had a…disagreement. He’s stormed off somewhere.”

  “But why?”

  “I’d rather not state the cause, if you don’t mind. I came here to inform the Arthurs before I go home to unpack my trunk.”

  “Don’t say anything to them yet until we get this straightened out with Rowe.” Nathaniel took her by the arm and led her away from the shop. “I’m sure this is a misunderstanding. You know how hasty he can be sometimes.”

  “I have never seen him that way.”

  “We’ll find him. I’ll set him straight. Come on.”

  He pulled her along, up the street and around the corner. Marissa didn’t see Rowe in any of the stores or outside. They passed the hotel and McIntyre’s.

  “Didn�
�t you say you wanted a flavored soda?”

  “In a moment, as soon as we find my brother.”

  They walked to the next street. Nathaniel still held her by the arm. Marissa withdrew slightly, believing that the subtle gesture would cause him to release her, but he retained his grasp. She caught sight of the saloon’s red and white letters ahead.

  “I really don’t think Rowe would be in this area of town. Let’s turn back.”

  “No, we’re right where you need to be.” Nathaniel’s hand clamped down on her arm as he quickened his pace. The direction of his steps became clear, heading straight for the saloon.

  “Nathaniel, stop! Let me go!”

  His strength and broad frame were similar to his brother. Marissa strained herself as she tugged against the force he exerted. He dragged her down the middle of the road. She dug her boot heels in the dirt. Nathaniel yanked her forward, the might of his pull sending her stumbling to her knees.

  Two men passed, and she cried out to them for help.

  “Get up.” Nathaniel hauled her to her feet in front of the onlookers and continued walking. Marissa raised her fist and hit him hard on the temple. He seized her arm and wrenched it painfully across her back. “Jason! Jason Garth, get out here!”

  The saloon proprietor heard his shouts and rose from the wooden chair on the establishment’s sidewalk. Taking his time, as though savoring the moment, he stepped into the middle of the street. Jason showcased his yellowing teeth in admiration of Nathaniel’s efforts.

  “Looks like you did it after all.”

  “As promised. My work here is finished.” Nathaniel shoved Marissa into Jason’s arms. “I’ve delivered your strumpet.”

  Rowe dug into his apple pie as Dusty talked shop over beef tips and mashed potatoes. He discovered the farmhand in the general store fifteen minutes before, purchasing shovels to muck the Charlton horse stalls. The two of them agreed to have a quick stop at McIntyre’s for some lunch. Rowe needed some more distraction and time to think before he confronted Jason, and Dusty offered pleasant company while he wrestled with what to do next.