The Preacher's Faith (Red River Romance Book 1)

by Caryl McAdoo

  “Yeah, there was a thing on the net, that by the shape of your toes, you can tell where you came from.”

  “But why don’t you know? I mean for sure.”

  “Mother dropped me off at a fire station.”

  “Oh, dear Lord, that’s terrible.”

  He glanced skyward. “Not really. I thank God for the Safe Haven Program. My birth certificate says mother and father unknown. Sweet folks at the Buckner’s Orphanage in Dallas raised me until I went to seminary.”

  “Awe, that’s so sad, Asa. I’m sorry for asking.”

  “No, don’t be. The Lord’s blessed me.”

  She glanced back, and that time, only her father looked away. Aunt Iris held her eyes and smiled like the old sweetie she was. Probably sitting up there about to bust a gut wanting to know every word spoken. Faith took in a deep breath, exhaled it slowly. “Tell me exactly what Auntie said about my standards that got you so interested.”

  “You asked for thirty-plus, I’m thirty-one. Insisted on a Christian: check. Never been with another woman—now that was the one, the most interesting qualification, seeing as how it narrows your field considerably.”

  She’d done it! Dear Lord, Auntie told him! “I can’t believe it.”

  “That I’ve been chaste? I consider myself a guardian of the Truth, Miss Faith. I would never be one to bear false witness.”

  Was this guy for real? She’d have bet her favorite barrel horse there wasn’t a thirty-something-year-old male to fit her bill in Texas, much less Red River County. Especially not one who would be interested in her, but boom! She shoots her mouth off, and here he is the next day. “How come?”

  “How come what? I love the truth? Why would a Christian need a reason for hating lies?”

  “No, not that, silly. Of course I hate lies and love truth. But the other, being chaste. Are you … You know… Straight?”

  His reaction to her suggestion said it all. The very idea obviously appalled him. He even stepped back. “Of course I am. Aren’t you?”

  “Certainly. It’s just that… What about the all-American tradition of guys sowing wild oats? Playing the field? You know. Isn’t that thing sort of expected? Definitely accepted these days?”

  “Maybe by society, but not by God.”

  “Oh, I agree.”

  “I guess growing up at Buckner’s, then being so busy getting through seminary, I missed out on those times. Never considered it a black mark though.”

  “Oh, it isn’t. I’m sorry. It’s just… It’s hard to understand why you’d want to marry a total stranger. Can’t you see the absurdity of the crazy idea?”

  He laughed, and joy filled the sound. More than hearty, it seemed almost musical. “I don’t think it’s so absurd. Why not? Others have married strangers through the centuries, maybe since time began. How well do you suppose Adam knew Eve when God brought her to him?”

  “Never thought of that.”

  “I suspect you’ve remained pure, or you wouldn’t be requiring that condition, and that tells me a lot about you, what’s important to you.”

  “Yes, of course. I can see that. But exactly what do you mean saying ‘why not’? Seems there’d be a thousand reasons, maybe a million, why a person shouldn’t marry someone they don’t know at all.”

  He looked at the sky as though deciding how to put his answer. “The Word commands a husband to love his wife, so… I believe that I’m ready to love a wife, and –”

  “And what? You’re ready to pledge your love to anybody?”

  “No, ma’am, not at all. You see, Faith, New Hope is the first church that’s even considered me for their pastor. I’ve been passed over three times now. Every instance I figure it’s because I’m single.”

  “Oh, so getting married is a career move for you.”

  “No. I didn’t mean to put it that way. I’ve had plenty of opportunities to get married, but it never seemed right. The ladies didn’t seem right, not that there was anything wrong with any of them. It’s hard to explain. But like I said, I’ve prayed, and with you… I don’t know, it seems very right, it just does.”

  “I seem right?”

  “You do.”

  She looked hard into his eyes, but detected no insanity, quite the opposite actually. They shone with kindness and seemed to overflow with sincerity and compassion. What one might totally expect from a pastor’s eyes. And he didn’t look away, but held her gaze, even seemed to open the windows of his soul wider to her search, welcomed her scrutiny.

  With the impression he had nothing to hide, she found it somewhat off-putting, even a little scary. Could she be that open with anyone? Ever?

  “From the first, I sensed a peace about this community, a feeling of being home, even more so when I prayed about you. For me, the Lord’s peace here—with you—is palpable.”

  “Peace…” Was she dreaming? She pressed her nails into her palm. No, it hurt. Definitely awake alright, and the stranger than fiction encounter must be real. The Twilight Zone music played in her head. Do do do do, do do do do. “So what does prettier than advertised mean?”

  He laughed again, and she cracked up with him this time. What a ridiculous question, didn’t think that through.

  He lifted his bent elbow and offered his arm. “We brought dinner.”

  “No you didn’t.”

  “Excuse me? How can you say that? I’m the one who carried the boxes in.”

  “Dinner’s done for this day.” She grinned. He was cute, couldn’t deny that. “You may have brought supper, but Daddy and I ate dinner around noon, a long time ago.”

  He nodded with a broad grin. “Oh I see, supper. I get it. Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat.”

  He wiggled his crooked arm. “Shall we then?”

  “I suppose we shall.”

  “I smelled Chester’s all the way out here. I’m past ready.”

  Fried chicken, huh? Daddy’s favorite. She placed her hand gently on his forearm like the princess she was. “I’m going to have to face those inquisitors on the porch sooner or later. Suppose it’s a good thing I don’t have to do it alone, although you’re the one partly responsible for this awkward, bizarre situation.”

  “Think Isaac and Rebecca.”

  “Why should I?”

  “They didn’t know each other. Abraham sent his servant to pick a wife for his son. You could play like your father sent your aunt to pick you a husband.”

  She didn’t respond. She hadn’t seen her daddy smile so big in a long time. Auntie rose and offered her hand, helped her big brother to his feet, then held open the door. “You two come right on in, and I’ll put some tea on for supper. Hurry up, Carl, and don’t forget your cane.”

  “Iris, I do not have dementia. I already have my cane right here.” He held it up and poked the air with its length. “I just don’t need it.”

  Walking on into the house, she left Asa on his own and went to gathering things left strewn about. By the time she made it through the living room, her arms were already full. She headed for her room and threw it on her bed then closed the door.

  Like always, her aunt took charge. “You fellows can just sit down in here and visit.” She grinned at Asa. “I suppose Carl has a few questions. We’ll call you when everything’s ready.” She waved at Faith. “And for goodness sake, darlin’, quit your straightening. I’ve already seen it, we all have. Come help me get the table set.”

  Like her aunt said, it was too late, so she followed her favorite aunt into the kitchen.

  With the tea water on, she faced Faith. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know, Auntie. Why didn’t you call? Warn me!”

  The old dear smiled. “Oh, yeah, right. You know good and well you’d have found a section of fence that needed fixing or some other reason to be gone.”

  “Maybe, what do you think?”

  “The search committee gave him high marks.”

  “You have a committee already? Auntie! That’s d
espicable.”

  “For our new pastor, darlin’, not for you a husband. Seems him being single was the only reason we even got a shot at him.”

  “Did he tell you he’s an orphan?”

  “Yes, did he tell you he picked his name himself?”

  “No.”

  “I like it. He chose Asa, sweetie. It means healer.” Aunt Iris leaned in close. “He’s heaven-sent, and you’re not getting any younger.”

  What should she do? The man wasn’t that hard to look at, but he almost seemed too good. “None of us are, Auntie.”

  “What are you going to do? Your daddy doesn’t have a lot of time left.”

  Faith unwrapped the tea bags and dropped them in the steaming water. “Let me think on it.” She turned off the fire and covered the pan.

  Chester’s fried chicken, spud spears, slaw and sweet iced tea covered the table. What more could anyone want, especially since it didn’t add much to the dirty dishes already in the sink? Bless God, Aunt Iris didn’t bust Faith’s chops over those, or the general mess she and Daddy didn’t pay much attention to. Since she’d become the main money maker in the house, and with all the extra medical bills coming in, there wasn’t enough time in the day.

  Clean clothes, meals, his meds, seeing to the stock, and her horse training piled her plate plenty high. During supper, the other three carried the conversation, but didn’t talk about anything important, then Daddy insisted Asa finish off the last piece of cold chicken.

  Her aunt obviously ascertained that Faith’s time to decide the path for the rest of her life had been ample enough. “Sweetie, your daddy and I would really like to know what you’re thinking. And probably, dear Asa does as well.”

  She nodded, faced the preacher. She hated to even say it out loud, the whole wild idea set sirens off in her brain. But she had promised Daddy. She choked back a sudden sob. She couldn’t think about losing him. And if this ridiculous plan would ease his mind…

  “Asa, if you’ll agree to come here every day for a month and help, get the feel of the place and this style of life, and get to know me, pray with me. If….” She grinned with every intention of continuing.

  Her aunt clasped her hands in front of her chest. “Oh, I knew it, darlin’, I just knew it! What a great idea, straight from the Lord! His divine plan indeed. Don’t you think, Carl?”

  “Now Iris, let her finish. I don’t think an ‘if’ meant she’s done.”

  “If I haven’t run you off by then…” She faced her father. “And you have to pray, too, Daddy—and you, Auntie—but if we all still agree, then next month, first Sunday in December, you can walk me down the aisle, Daddy.”

  She extended her arm toward the visitor to shake on it.

  TWO

  Asa raised his hand to the edge of the table but didn’t take hers, not yet. “Half a day off on Saturdays and all day Sunday, and you’re with me at church whenever I’m there.” He smiled at her and extended his hand. It all seemed so strange, but so right at the same time. He could, should, and would trust the Lord to guide him.

  The pretty lady smiled back, a bit sheepish, but it appeared she might be about to slip into some kind of horse trading mode. “Why do you need a half day off on Saturday for?”

  “To get ready for Sunday. Study to show myself approved and such.”

  “I can appreciate that, but exactly how much time are you planning on spending at church? You are talking services only, right? I don’t mean to sound crass, but chores here can’t be neglected to run up there every time some old lady needs her hand held.” She turned toward her aunt. “No offense, Auntie.”

  Miss Iris stood, grabbed Faith’s hand and pulled it into his. “None took, darlin’. Now you two shake on it. You can work out the details later.”

  The way Faith grasped his hand so firmly and looked him straight in the eyes inspired him. He appreciated a strong woman. She’d never drop her babies off, no matter what. He fixed his stare back, but this time, instead of only searching, she opened a little and let him in. Her pain touched his heart, but he kept his gaze steady, without blinking, couldn’t avert his eyes.

  Could he be crazy for thinking that here was a kindred spirit? His soul mate? Was it only because of New Hope’s position? He wanted that church, a chance to prove himself and serve God. He could see himself pastoring the congregation into old age.

  Oh, Lord, if it is to be, if it’s Your will, knit our hearts together. You are love, but it’s such a strange, elusive emotion.

  Could Asa love a woman he barely knew for the rest of his life? Could she love him? Or would she leave him, too?

  “Deal.” She gripped his hand way harder than he expected.

  He squeezed back and gave her one good shake. Surely her calluses imprinted on his palm. He’d never held a rougher hand. “Deal.”

  Guess she’d get a free month of work out of him at the least, could be the only reason she agreed, but he was willing. From the beginning, she made no bones about his idea being crazy. Couldn’t prove his sanity by her, that’s what she’d said. Maybe the whole thing was absurd. But thirty days together should tell the story—maybe the first chapter at least.

  Her father jumped to his feet and put his hands over theirs. “Praise God.” He looked both ways. “A preacher.” He coughed then flopped back in his chair. “This is good.”

  Soon the ladies insisted he help Mister Johnson to his favorite chair in the living room while they cleaned up. Once the old boy reloaded the wood-burning stove, he eased into his oversized recliner. “Those women treat me like I’m disabled, but I expect I’ll live ’til I die.” He smiled and started coughing again, a disturbing, uncontrollable hacking that sounded like he might bring his lungs on up. “Iris said you were an orphan.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “My wife, God rest her soul, her grandfather was orphaned coming to Texas. Blamed Indians, but I never believed him. Not sure why.”

  Asa didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded.

  For the next few minutes, he listened and enjoyed learning more about the man who in one short month, if everything worked out, might become his father. A real one. But he might not live through the year. Mercy, Lord. Asa wanted to relish every moment with Carl Johnson. Get to know the man who’d reared his potential wife.

  “Ancestral curse, I guess. Faith’s mother had it. That’s what killed her.”

  Not good, he’d missed something important. “Sir, the Word says a curse doesn’t come without a cause.”

  “True, but my sweet wife, Charity was her name. Bless her heart, she couldn’t ever stop. She’d get the tremors so bad without the alcohol. She never really got that drunk, but her liver gave out way too soon.”

  Miss Iris burst into the room talking. ”Hey, Carl, you be okay alone for a while?”

  The old man snickered at his sister. “Of course, I’m not an invalid, not yet.”

  Faith came in carrying a small cup and a glass of water. “Here Daddy, let’s get your evening meds out of the way. Auntie wants me to go with Asa to take her home. You sure you’ll be fine alone? Because I don’t have to.” She grinned.

  “No, you go. You kids get to know one another. I’ll be fine.” He tilted the cup, sliding the pills into his mouth then washed them down. “Maybe another stick or two of wood in the stove before you go, and where are my pain pills, Faith?”

  She nodded toward the knee-high stack of wood next to the stove. Asa jumped up and grabbed two sticks. She took off down the hall, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll get you one.”

  The old man turned sideways and watched him put the wood in then lock the door. “My daughter hides them from me. Thinks I’ll forget and take too many.”

  “Oh, Daddy, come on now. I don’t think it, I know it.” She held her hand out with one rather fat pill in her palm.

  “Whatever.” He took it.

  Asa stood and extended his hand toward her father. “Good to meet you, Mister Johnson.”

  He nodded.
“I’d be pleased if you’d call me Dad.”

  “Yes, sir, I’d like that.”

  Faith made her aunt ride in the front seat. Her mother would turn over in her grave if she didn’t show respect, and besides, she could watch the man without him watching her back. The trip south didn’t reveal much, seemed some sweet old ladies don’t know when to keep their yaps shut. But she did like how Asa deferred to her aunt.

  A mark on the good side. That’s what she should do; chart him out, just like a green-broke colt. Maybe she could knock off any rough edges then see if he was a keeper. Whether or not that happened, she was in knee deep for at least a month. Why had she shook on it? Crazy wasn’t a strong enough word for this deal.

  Aunt Iris turned in her seat and smiled. “Sweetie, I’ve got three gowns. I’d love for you to wear one of them.”

  She shook her head. She knew about two of them. “Where’d you get the third?”

  “I bought it a while back, but then…”

  Of course, that guy from Lydia. What was his name? Didn’t matter, just one more time it didn’t work out for poor Aunt Iris. ”Sure, I’d like that. I’ve always loved Gran’s. Remember when you let me try it on? And it’s practically back in style now, too. Funny how old things just keep recycling, come back into favor, isn’t it? I even heard the typewriter’s trying to make a comeback.”

  “Oh, it never will. And yes, that was a fun weekend.” Auntie faced the preacher. “She was thirteen, gone from a little girl to almost full grown in like a month. Anyway, we spent one whole day playing dress up.” She laughed and glanced back. “Some of Mama’s stuff went all the way back to the twenties.” She covered her mouth like she couldn’t possibly describe how scandalous her mother once dressed.

  Faith scooted up and pointed to her right. “Right there, that’s Auntie’s road, next right.”

  Another good mark went into the plus column. He walked the old dear to the door, waited until she had a light on, then came back and held the passenger door for Faith. Someone had taught the man manners.

  After closing it, he ran around and hopped in. “Want a nightcap?”