A man whooped. “You’re out here with the best of ’em now.”
For those who displayed glee at the brawl’s outcome, several others showed disapproval.
“Unseemly for a preacher,” a red-haired man huffed. “Just outrageous, fighting for a saloon gal.”
“I never saw the like from Reverend Thomas,” a steel-haired, middle-aged matron provided.
Rowe agreed with the latter comments. He proceeded to walk amongst the crowd without stopping to discuss the happenings of the day. He wished it never occurred. More town approval, more adoration or contempt, when all he really wanted was Marissa’s forgiveness and acceptance.
“I want to marry her if she’ll still have me, Dusty. I don’t care if the threat of contract is gone. This town will either accept us or they won’t. She and I can’t live for them.”
“I’ll agree. What are you going to tell the church this Sunday?”
“I’ll publicly make my apologies for today’s ruckus.”
“Yeah, and maybe they’ll also stop being so hardheaded about ya’ll this time.”
But the downward tilt of Dusty’s head told of his unspoken doubts.
Chapter 26
WHAT A BRIGHT and timely young man Timothy Lyle was. During the fight at the saloon, the livery worker had found Rowe’s horse tethered outside of McIntyre’s where he left it. He brought the animal to the stables to prevent anyone from becoming a horse thief. Rowe promised the youth two Seated Liberty Dollars from his next set of wages for the gesture.
Now Rowe rode his horse beside Dusty’s stallion to the Arthurs’ house. Despite his stiff jaw from Jason’s quick fist and the growing ache in his side, his mood remained buoyant now that all but one impediment stood between him and Marissa.
“You still getting married tomorrow?” Dusty flicked the reins for his stallion to turn up the offshoot road to the Charlton farm.
“As much as I want to, I think I need to wait until after this Sunday.”
Dusty’s mouth dropped to his chin. “You ain’t thinking about not getting hitched to her, are you? You just moved a herd of no-good bum steers for Miss Marissa.”
“No, but I want to make my apology to the town in church. It’s necessary that they understand.”
“Can’t you do that after the wedding?”
“Not if I want to extend an invitation to everyone as guests.”
“Oh.” Dusty calmed down and nodded. “Makes sense. Well, guess I’ll be seeing you. Can’t say I’m not looking forward to watching Miss Sophie clean the stalls.”
“What?”
“It’s a long story. Maybe your fiancée will tell you.” Dusty waved good-bye.
Rowe had no idea what the cowboy was talking about, but it wasn’t as important as seeing about Marissa.
He and the animal were getting to the point of exhaustion, but the Arthur home was the last place he needed to go before he could put something in his stomach and see how bad off his fight badges were. He patted his bruised ribs gingerly, grateful to not have anything broken.
Marissa answered the door when he knocked. Seeing her face light up made Rowe’s pain diminish. She was safe and unharmed.
“I thought McGee wouldn’t release you,” she said, throwing her arms around him. “I thought he was going to have a trial for you and everything.”
She squeezed too hard on his ribs. With a grunt he took her by the shoulders and held her at arm’s length. He regretted not being able to take her in his arms the way he preferred, but it was so much better than never being able to hold her again. “I’m a little sore.”
“Do you need Dr. Gillings?”
“No. Between me and Jason, that man’s business has increased one way or another since I came here.”
She clucked her tongue at his dark humor. “There you go again, trying to take all the blame. I was so worried about you. I heard a gunshot just as we were leaving town.”
“There were many gunshots. You probably heard the sheriff firing into the air to clear the crowd.”
“That’s when he arrested you?”
“Yes, but I don’t remember much more than fighting Jason, then getting hauled off to jail with him. Marissa, about the wedding tomorrow.”
“I know. I can’t expect you to travel if you’re too sore to sit and stand very long. Maybe the day after?”
“Later than that.”
He heard her breath catch in her throat. “You do still want to get married, don’t you?” Her face changed and became somber.
“Of course, but after this Sunday. I must address the town about what happened this afternoon. I’m going to do it at church.” Rowe brought her to him in an instinctive gesture of comfort, forgetting his new bruises. The aches and pains promptly reminded him.
She rested her head on his good shoulder, and her delicate floral scent reached his nose, soothing him. “I don’t like that you got into a scuffle with Jason, but I understand how it happened and how it affects your position in the town.”
“Some people will think I lost my senses and fought him over a saloon girl. Not because of what he did to you when you were a saloon girl.”
Marissa smoothed down his hair near his ear. “What can be said? Even with Jason locked up and charged, they’ll think it anyway. That’s just the way it goes.”
“I know, but I want to reach the ones willing to hear the truth and to hear my regret for giving in to violence.”
She leaned her hand on the doorframe. The soft lantern behind her warmed the tones in her skin, so that she appeared to be lit from the inside. “Will you meet me at the shop tomorrow morning before opening hour? There is one more thing I need to do before we marry. It’ll bring me much comfort to put it behind me. I’ll tell you more when you arrive.”
“I’ll be there. What is it you’re doing?”
“I’m going to see Jason at the jail.” Marissa paused, anticipating an interruption. She spoke again when Rowe remained silent. “He and I have never truly discussed his act of rape. He must know that he cannot use it to scare me and control me anymore. I’m free now. I gave my life to Christ.”
While the news of her conversion was something to celebrate, Rowe’s stomach drew tight in knots at the idea of Marissa facing Jason again. Life had the two of them weaving in and out of each other’s lives with hardly any rest in between. The lines blurred between abusive father figure, guardian, and swindling employer. He knew that Marissa needed to settle her view of Jason if she wanted to move forward for good.
If it were up to Rowe, and for reasons dealing with Marissa’s physical security, he’d tell her to keep her distance from Jason as far as the sun got to the moon by night. However, it wasn’t his choice to make. Marissa had to do this for her own peace of mind, or she’d always risk feeling as though she were running away from her problems.
“Do you need me to come to the jail with you?” Lightly holding her, he felt all the tension leave her body in response to his question.
“Yes, if you wish. I would like to have your support.”
He was going to bed early tonight, then. “Let me go home to take a bath and sleep. Let’s hope the sheriff is in a good enough mood when he sees me there again. I didn’t turn out to be the preacher Assurance was expecting, did I?”
“No, you didn’t.” The edges of a smile crept about her mouth. “But that’s not such a terrible thing. You helped the town by exposing a dishonest businessman.”
He cupped her face and planted a kiss on her lips. “Goodnight, Marissa. I love you.”
She didn’t retreat at his words. “I love you too.”
Marissa spent the time before breakfast the next morning praying for strength and wisdom in her words. Today would have been the day she married Rowe, but once again, plans had been altered. She put her faith in the fact that God knew what He was doing by delaying them. They both had important matters to settle. Rowe had to speak to the church and she had to break from Jason’s hold for good.
Rowe
deserved the best she had to offer him as a wife— companionship, tenderness, a mind free of fear, and a heart free from bitterness. The past would always be in her memory, but she couldn’t afford to carry it as a burden for the rest of her life.
After dressing and eating, she rode to Zachary’s shop. Rowe was already waiting for her in the chair outside the door. He arose stiffly, favoring his leg and his ribs. His heartening smile quelled part of her anxiety.
“I thought we might say a prayer before going to the sheriff’s office,” he said.
They joined hands and gave thanks to the Lord, asking for guidance and peace for the morning ahead. The chill in the early morning wind calmed as their prayer ended. The sun warmed their backs as they went to the jail housed within the sheriff’s office.
Marissa stuck her hand through the iron bars on the door and knocked three times. “Hopefully the sheriff is inside.”
“Doesn’t someone always have to be present in the building when you have a person jailed?” A look from her, and Rowe remembered where he was in the country. “Right. I forgot how things are done here.”
“Elections will be held next year. Maybe Assurance will get a deputy sheriff to help McGee.”
The door knob jiggled, and the sheriff stood before them, separated by the iron bars. He pursed his lips to one side. “Well, the reverend’s back, eh? I got a letter from your brother to give you. He told me when he left to make sure you receive it.” He produced an envelope folded in half from inside his shirt pocket.
Rowe took the letter. “Where is Nathaniel? I haven’t seen him since I ran out of McIntyre’s.”
“I had the blacksmith watch the jail while I escorted the feller to Claywalk last night. I promised I wouldn’t put any charges on him if he left town and got on the next train.”
Marissa craned her neck to see the letter. “What does it say?”
“It reads, ‘Dear brother, I am on my way back to Virginia where I belong. I was wrong for manhandling your betrothed and getting into your affairs. I don’t approve of your choices, but you are your own man. I should think our family won’t see you again. Live well. Signed, Nathaniel.’” Rowe put the letter back into the envelope. His shoulders heaved. “Well, I can’t do anything about that.”
“I’m sorry.” Marissa’s spirits sank at the depressing news. It shook her how Rowe’s family was stubborn enough to cast him out for living a life different from theirs.
Rowe put his hand on the small of her back. “I’ll be alright, Marissa. They were this way long before I came to Kansas.”
Sheriff McGee cut through the thick air of disappointment with a loud cough. “What are you two doin’ back here, anyhow? You find another contract to dispute, or another fight you got into?”
“No, Sheriff.” Marissa almost laughed at his sleepy-eyed expression and the rumpled hair that was flattened against one side of his head. “I wanted to speak to your prisoner this morning, if it’s alright with you. I will be very brief.”
“What you need to speak to ol’ Jason about? Once the judge gets here and tries him, he’s gonna be headed on the train to Missoura to be put in a county jail.”
Marissa was satisfied that distance was going to separate them. “I wanted to have some parting words with him. I promise after that you will never have to bother with me again.”
McGee’s eyes went to Rowe. “What about the reverend? I can’t have Garth cuttin’ up when he sees him. You’ll have to wait just inside the door.”
Rowe touched Marissa on the arm. “Will you be alright?”
She nodded. “I will. It’s probably best you waited here. Jason might shut his mouth if you stood at my side.”
“Time’s tickin’.” McGee unlocked the iron bars and pushed them open.
Marissa stepped into the stale, dim jailhouse. Her skirts fluttered as a breeze came in behind her, making the lamps flicker and casting her long shadow about the small interior. Daylight trickled in through a tiny window near the ceiling, barely large enough to stick her arm through. The farther she went into the room, the more it smelled of leftover food, cigars, and a neglected chamber pot whose contents had not been emptied in several hours. The floor was permanently stained near a dented spittoon.
Her boots made suction sounds as she moved across the sticky floor to Jason’s cell. She saw his long, rangy frame reclining atop the narrow straw pallet toward the back. His coat had been removed and tossed in a pile on the floor beside him, next to a half-eaten bowl of porridge that congealed overnight. “Jason.”
His face was toward the wall. She saw movement in his shoulders.
“What?” he replied, muffled, but gruff.
“It’s Marissa.”
“I know who it is. What do you want? I thought you’d be married by now, or on your way to a justice of the peace.”
“I will be, but I needed to speak to you first.”
Jason groaned as he sat up on the pallet. Even in the dim lighting, a large purple knot could be seen rising out of his forehead. “You come to see if I was really in jail?”
“No, I knew of that yesterday.”
He stared at the brick wall of his cell and then stood on his feet. Marissa backed away from the bars as he crossed the little space between them. Large-knuckled hands wrapped around the bars. “Again, what do you want?”
Beneath the purple lump she saw who he really was. Jason was more than the violent, quick-tempered, deceitful saloonkeeper she regarded him as for the past three years. He was a darkly troubled and broken man whose ways and means brought him to this point. Something or someone in his past made him turn out harsh and embittered, causing him to believe he had to be mercenary to get what he wanted from life. Marissa got chills as she realized how close she came to becoming like him, had it not been for her newfound faith.
“I want to thank you. Thank you for taking me in after my mother died and for making sure I had food to eat and a place to lay my head. I likely would have succumbed to cholera myself or lived on the street as an orphan if you hadn’t intervened.”
He continued to grip the bars as he read her face. “You’re welcome,” he voiced with a hesitating pause, uncertain of where the dialogue was going.
“With that being said, everything else you did to me was wrong. The beatings, forced labor, raping me when I was younger. You tried to train me to become a prostitute. Thank God you failed.” A tear gathered in her eye and fell onto her bodice, splotching it. She wiped her cheek with a gloved hand. “I can never in my life undo what you did to me, but I’m choosing to forgive you. It doesn’t erase the pain and it doesn’t clear you of your crimes, but I won’t let your venom poison me for the rest of my life.”
Jason kept his mouth shut, looking in her general direction but never in her face. His knuckles were white around the bars.
“I hope one day you see how wrong you were and ask God for forgiveness. I’ll be praying for you. Good-bye.”
Marissa turned her back and left him standing at the front of his cell. Rowe awaited her with outstretched arms. It didn’t matter if the sheriff witnessed her air all of her unspoken grievances against Jason. The worst for her was over.
Chapter 27
ON SUNDAY MARISSA sat on the end of the middle church pew. She looked to the day with expectation of a better life, with God’s promises of mercy and goodness. She no longer felt tethered to the past but was made a new woman of hope and strength. Whatever came upon her now or in the future, she was equipped to persevere.
Marissa knew Rowe possessed the same fortitude. No matter what became of his address to the church today, God would take care of him. He would see to both of their needs.
Zachary and Rebecca came back from talking to their friends and sat in Marissa’s pew. The service commenced. Marissa clutched the hymnal in anticipation of her fiancé’s address.
Rowe stood after the hymns were sung. He approached the pulpit slowly, almost limping. Marissa saw him lay a hand on his side for one quick moment. A f
aint shadow ringed around the right side of his jaw.
His injuries looked worse healing than they did when they were fresh. Townsfolk who didn’t see him earlier in the week gasped.
“Before I begin the sermon, I would like to make an apology to the town.” His voice was raw, tired.
Marissa could practically hear the sound of backs leaning forward from the pews.
“Most of you know what happened five days ago at the saloon. I engaged in a fight with the owner, Jason Garth, over a provocation he made concerning someone close to my heart, Miss Marissa Pierce.”
Rowe looked out to the congregation where she was seated. Finding her, he visibly relaxed before returning to his delivery. “It’s no secret now that I am in love with Miss Pierce. The wisest thing to do would have been to not give in to the temptation to fight Jason for her, but I’m only a man, and I’m far from perfect. I also happen to be the pastor of this church. That position heightens the extent of my imperfections. I am aware of them, as I am sure you are. I hope that you’ll forgive me and allow me to continue ministering to the town. And Miss Pierce and I both hope that you will accept our decision to become husband and wife.”
The sanctuary was quiet before seasoned farmer Elmer Hudson stood up. “Well, I’ll be, Reverend. I can’t speak for everyone else, but I forgive you. You did us all a favor with that Jason.”
The congregation reacted first to the interruption. Then a few added their assent, one by one. The farmer, encouraged, went on.
“It’s good to have a preacher that falls short like we do but still tries to make his wrongs right. That lets us know that he’s one of us.”
Mr. Charlton joined him while Sophie remained silent in the pew, her face turned down in a sulk. “And I know Miss Pierce is a changed woman, given her actions of leaving the saloon. I also remember what the reverend said about shunning people. Most of us came to this town to start over. We can hardly fault others for trying to do the same.”
A number of the congregation members expressed surprise at the approval shown Marissa from a previous detractor. Marissa herself didn’t expect him to make a visible stance in church.
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