by R. C. Ryan
“Oh, Will. That’s so thoughtful.” She dipped her face, breathing in the perfume of the flowers. “Isn’t he thoughtful, Rebecca?”
“Yes, he is.” Rebecca kept her smile in place. “That was sweet of you, Will.”
“I’m just grateful to be invited for dinner. Now I feel as if I’ve really come home.”
Hank Henderson was smiling broadly. “I hope you’ll always consider our place your second home.”
“I was just about to open a bottle of wine, Will.” Rebecca caught the slight frown on her father’s face. “Would you care for some?”
“Not yet. But maybe with dinner.”
“All right. I’ll just be a minute. Mom? Dad?”
Hank gave a quick shake of his head. “I’ll wait for dinner, too.”
Susan smiled. “Whatever your father says, dear.”
Rebecca hurried to the kitchen and opened the wine, pouring herself a glass before returning to the great room.
“So.” Hank shot a hopeful glance at his wife. “Have you been assigned a church, Will?”
Will shook his head. “Not yet.”
Rebecca arched a brow. “I would have thought the school would offer its graduates a list of churches that were in need of ministers.”
Will turned to her. “They do. With an aging ministry, there’s a real need around the country for dedicated young church leaders. The school offers to place all its graduates.”
Rebecca’s smile was quick. “And yet, you came back to little Haller Creek. I hope you aren’t thinking of replacing Reverend Grayson.”
Even her mother had to chuckle at that. Though Haller Creek’s widowed minister was growing frail, he had resisted all offers of an assistant. “I agree with my daughter, Will. I doubt Reverend Grayson would take kindly to an offer to replace him.”
Hank’s frown deepened. His tone was a bit sharper than before. “Did it ever occur to the two of you that Will may have come back to town for some other reason?”
Susan’s smile disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
Rebecca, however, refused to allow her father to steal her humor. “Have you paid Reverend Grayson a call, Will?”
He colored slightly. “That’s on my to-do list for the coming week.”
“I wouldn’t wait too long. I’m sure by now he’s heard that you’re in town. He’s probably wondering why he hasn’t seen you yet.”
Hearing the sound of the kitchen timer, Susan turned away. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”
“I’ll help, Mom.” Before her father had time to react, Rebecca followed her mother from the room.
A short time later they called the men to the dining room, where Susan Henderson had laid out a splendid feast, using her finest china and silver.
As they took their places around the table, Hank asked Will to lead them in a blessing.
Afterward, Rebecca filled their wineglasses.
Hank lifted his glass. “To Reverend Will Theisen. We’re so happy you’re here. May your years in service to the church be many, and may you find the perfect soul mate to work by your side.”
Banking the temper that flared inside her, Rebecca averted her gaze as she touched her glass to the others and sipped.
As they passed around steak and twice-baked potatoes, the last of the green beans from Susan’s garden, and soft, buttery rolls, Hank continued pressing Will.
“I’m sure your years in the big city opened your eyes to a different life than the one you lived here in Montana.”
Will nodded. “Very true, sir.”
Rebecca picked up on that. “Were you ever tempted to stay in Atlanta, Will?”
He blinked and busied himself buttering a roll. Seeing the others watching, he shrugged. “I’ve given it some thought.”
“I’m sure some of those big-city churches are more like cathedrals, with really big congregations. Wouldn’t it be fun to preach to a huge gathering?”
“I did it, along with the other students. That was part of our training.”
“And was it a rush?”
He chewed, swallowed, as though assessing his words before speaking. “There’s something to be said for having hundreds of people hanging on one’s every word. I suppose you could say it gave me a thrill. But there’s a danger in liking it too much. That could lead to false pride.”
“So serious.” An impish grin curved Rebecca’s lips. “We wouldn’t want you to be too proud, now, would we?”
Hank spoke quickly. “How’s that steak, Reverend?” Without even waiting for a response, he glowered at his daughter.
“It’s really good. You’ve always been a fine cook, Mrs. Henderson.”
“Oh now, Will.” Susan placed her hand over his. “I think it’s time you started calling us Hank and Susan.”
Will smiled. “Thank you. I’ll try.”
Rebecca sat back, sipping her wine, wondering when this interminable dinner would end.
“Another slice of cake, Will?” Susan hovered beside his chair. “Another dollop of ice cream?”
Will shook his head and took a long drink of tea. “Dinner was excellent. And your chocolate cake was the perfect ending. But I can’t manage another bite.”
Hank pushed back from the table. “Why don’t we let the women clear the dishes while we head to the other room?”
“At school we were all expected to clean up after ourselves. As Reverend Palmer, our dean, always said, there are no servants or masters here. We’re all here to serve one another.”
“That’s fine at divinity school, Will.” Hank put a hand on his arm and steered him toward the doorway. “But in my house, the women do the cooking and cleaning. You and I can catch up on local news while Susan and Rebecca tidy up here.”
Will had no choice but to walk away.
“Some things never change.” Rebecca loaded the dishwasher, still fuming at her father’s attitude.
“That’s harsh, Rebecca. I know you’re offended, honey. Your father doesn’t mean anything by it. It’s just his way.”
“His way? Mom, hasn’t he noticed that the world has changed while he’s stuck in the last century?”
“Now, honey…”
“And you never disagree with him.”
“You know I don’t approve of airing differences in public.”
“Then maybe, when the two of you are alone tonight, you can let him know how offensive his words were. Not just his ‘let the little women clean up’ words, but earlier, when he was practically offering me to Will as his soul mate. I was mortified.”
Susan wrapped her arms around her daughter and kissed her temple. “In case I haven’t told you, I’m so happy you’re finally home for good. When you graduated and decided to work in Bozeman, I felt as if I’d lost you. And now you’re back, and I just want you to know your father and I love you so much.”
“I love you and Dad, too, Mom. And I love being back in Haller Creek. But…”
“Not now, honey. It’s been such a special evening having both you and Will to supper. Don’t spoil it.”
When the two women entered the great room arm in arm, Will looked up with a smile. “I was just telling your father about my visit with Sheriff Kerr. He was bragging about Ben Monroe and how he handled himself taking Leroy Purcell into custody. Even though Leroy was drunk and waving a rifle like a crazy man, Ben managed to arrest him without a shot being fired.”
Rebecca stared pointedly at her father. “And you accused Ben of a bar brawl.”
Her mother gasped and put a hand to her mouth. “Hank, you didn’t.”
“It was a natural enough mistake. That hell—” He glanced over at Will and swallowed down the words he usually used to describe Ben and his brothers. “That hooligan has been in fights since the day he and those two brothers of his arrived in Haller Creek.”
Will sat back with a grin. “And I’m grateful for him.”
When the others simply stared, he explained. “I remember the time I was walking home from scho
ol. I was ten. Skinny. Glasses. A shiny new backpack. Reggie Mason shoved me into a fence so hard my nose was bloody and my glasses fell off.”
At the mention of that name, Hank pounded a fist into his palm. “R.D. Mason. That monster.”
“Yeah. R.D. He was every kid in school’s worst nightmare. He said he was going to keep on punching me until I handed over my backpack. I was so scared, I was trying to get my arms out of the straps to do as he said, but he kept punching me. Then all of a sudden Reggie went down like a rock, and there was Ben.” Will gave a shake of his head, remembering the moment. “He was new at school, and I didn’t even know his name, but he hauled me to my feet and told me to go on home. I told him I was afraid to come back to school. R.D. had stolen lunch money from half the kids in my class. Ben said R.D. would never bother me again.” Will’s frown turned into a smile, remembering. “The next day I was quaking in my shoes, but when I passed R.D., he looked away. And just as Ben promised, R.D. never bothered me again.”
A frown creased Hank Henderson’s forehead as he fell silent.
Rebecca exchanged a glance with her mother and could see that she’d been deeply touched by what Will had just revealed.
Will looked over at Rebecca. “I didn’t realize you moved out of your parents’ place. Your father said you’re living over on Maple. If it’s okay with you, I’ll walk you home. It’ll give me a chance to burn some of the calories from that excellent meal.” Before she could say a word, he added, “I already asked your father, and he approved.”
“Of course he did.” She darted a look at her father before turning toward the front closet. “I’ll get my jacket.”
Susan lay a hand on Will’s arm. “Are you staying at your old family home?”
He nodded. “It’s one of the reasons I came back. I decided it’s time to go through their things before getting it ready to go on the market. I would have done it in the spring, after ordination, but I was still doing my final work with my mentor at a local church there, and things got complicated.” He offered a handshake. “Susan, thank you again for the invitation to dinner.”
“Anytime, Will. You’re one of the family.” She exchanged a bright smile with her husband, who was staring into space, before turning to her daughter. “You two enjoy the evening.”
Will held the door as Rebecca preceded him down the steps and into the gathering shadows.
They walked slowly, enjoying the crunch of brittle leaves beneath their shoes. A brisk autumn breeze sent more leaves dancing in a little whirlwind.
“I’m glad you told us about how Ben came to your rescue. I’d never heard that story before.”
Will shrugged. “I know Ben and his brothers had a lot of rough edges. My folks thought Mackenzie Monroe was crazy to adopt them. But Ben’s a good guy. He’s always been fair with me. And that day, he really saved my hide. There are plenty of other classmates with similar stories.”
They walked in silence until Will lifted his head. “I love this season. But with this chill in the air, we know what always follows. I don’t like thinking about what’s just around the corner.”
“How can you live in Montana and not love winter?”
He shrugged. “I prefer sunshine.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” She hugged her arms about herself. “But there’s something about that first snowfall. I’m like a kid at Christmas.”
“Would you ever consider living anywhere else?”
“I did. I stayed in Bozeman after college.”
He gave a dry laugh. “I meant anywhere besides Montana.”
“Oh.” She thought a moment. “I’m not sure I could. I love the sweep of mountains. Meadows alive with wildflowers. Cattle grazing in the distance. Those things are home to me.” She paused to turn to him. “Are you thinking about settling somewhere else?”
“I—”
A sound shattered the silence. Rebecca stood perfectly still, trying to identify what she’d heard.
Then, as a second sound exploded and a bullet whizzed directly over their heads, Will pushed her to the ground before dropping beside her.
“What…?”
“Shhh.” He put a hand over her mouth to silence her.
She shook off his hand and the two of them sat up at the sound of hurried footsteps retreating.
A car door slammed. Tires screeched as a vehicle roared into the darkness.
Rebecca got to her feet, peering into the distance, but the night was too dark, and the car was gone.
As Will scrambled to stand, she was already racing ahead toward her house, fighting desperately to hold back the terror that had her in its grip.
He caught her arm. “Wait. Where are you going? Shouldn’t we run to your parents’ place?”
“I left my cell phone at home. We need to call the sheriff.”
Will had to struggle to keep up with her as she raced headlong toward the darkened outline of her home.
Chapter Six
Will barely made it to Rebecca’s living room before sinking down in a chair, his head in his hands.
After phoning a report of trouble, she looked at him with alarm. “What’s wrong, Will?”
“I feel a migraine coming on. I don’t have anything with me for pain.”
“I’m sorry. It’s probably triggered by that terrifying incident. I’m sure I have something for headaches somewhere.” She left him and headed into the bedroom to rummage through some of the boxes she hadn’t yet unpacked.
The doorbell sounded.
When it rang a second time, Rebecca realized Will hadn’t answered it and she hurried to peer out the door before opening it.
Seeing Ben standing on the porch, she felt a wild sense of relief. It took all her willpower to keep from throwing herself into his arms.
“Ben.”
“Becca.”
For long moments, the two simply stared at one another.
It was Ben who broke the silence. “Dispatch said you called for help. A gunshot?”
“Yes.” She was staring at his badge before looking up at him, as though unsure what to do or say.
He made it easy for her by taking control.
“Were you hit?” He was studying her closely, as if looking for telltale blood.
“No.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “Please, Ben. Come in.” She stood aside and he brushed past her.
As he did, she absorbed the keen tingle of awareness as their bodies brushed.
Seeing Will seated in the living room, his head in his hands, Ben looked from Will to Rebecca. “Was he hit?”
“No. A migraine.” Rebecca handed Will a couple of over-the-counter headache pills. “I found these, Will. I hope they help.”
“Probably not. But they won’t hurt. I’ll need some water.”
Rebecca pointed to the other room.
Will got to his feet and made his way to the kitchen.
While he did, Ben took a moment to look around. The house was small and tidy, and sparsely furnished, with unopened boxes in every corner, but the colorful pillows and mohair afghan over the arm of the sofa gave a feeling of warmth and style and comfort.
As soon as Will returned to the room, Ben studied the faces of both Rebecca and Will as he began his official interrogation.
“You specifically reported gunshots. Multiple. How many?”
“Two,” Rebecca answered for both of them. “I didn’t know what I’d heard the first time. I guess maybe a car backfiring or fireworks. But when the second gunshot went off, I actually felt the rush of air, or maybe it was the sound of a bullet flying overhead. That’s when Will pushed me to the ground and stifled my cry.”
“So you recognized it as a gunshot and realized you were in danger.” Ben fixed Will with a look. “Have you been shot at before?”
“Ben, Will is a…”
At Rebecca’s words, he lifted a hand and continued studying Will. “I know you’re an ordained minister. Have you ever been—”
Will didn’t give him time to fi
nish. “Of course not.” His frown became more pronounced. “But, like Rebecca said, the bullet was too close to mistake it for anything else. Besides, I’ve been serving a parish in an impoverished inner city. Occasional gunshots come with the territory.”
“Can either of you come up with the name of anyone who might want to do this?”
Rebecca went pale, her eyes wide, as though suddenly beginning to realize what had just transpired. “You’re saying this was deliberate.”
Ben chose his words carefully. “One gunshot could be a mistake. A pistol with the safety off, fired by accident. Two gunshots change everything. Two gunshots mean business.”
With a gasp, Rebecca’s hand shot out, clutching Ben’s sleeve.
He moved quickly, his arm around her waist, guiding her toward a straight-backed chair where he helped her to sit.
Seeing her pallor, he asked, “Do you have any whiskey in the house?”
She nodded. “In one of those boxes next to the refrigerator.”
He walked away, then returned with a tumbler of whiskey, which he held to her lips. “Drink.”
She did, then sat stiffly, waiting for the weakness to pass.
“I hope you don’t mind.” Will started toward the door. His voice was barely a whisper. “I need to get my medication, before this migraine becomes full-blown.”
“Hold on, Will.” Ben gave a firm shake of his head. “You’d be foolish to walk the streets with a gunman loose out there.”
“We heard an engine and the screech of tires. And I’m sure whoever did this wouldn’t stick around once he spotted a police vehicle. Besides”—Will’s voice sounded thin and strained—“if I don’t get my medication soon, I could be bedridden for days. These migraines take on a life of their own.”
“I understand. But, Will…” Seeing him pause, Ben added, “Be sure you stop by the sheriff’s office whenever you’re up to it and make a full report.”
“I will. Thanks, Ben.” He nodded toward Rebecca. “Sorry. I hate leaving you like this…”
“It’s all right, Will. Take care of that migraine. Good night.”
