As Brett reached for the bread, Nora walked past with a stack of plates. “I’ll make sure he does it right, Mom.”
His protest at her condescending tone was lost when Nora turned toward her older sisters. “Liz, you surely haven’t forgotten the cleanup. Since you and Kate didn’t get to help prepare, the rest of us can sit back and watch you work after we eat.”
“Don’t you know that children should be seen and not heard?” The old saying scarcely left Liz’s mouth than the kitchen door to the outside flew open, and her two oldest boys ran in.
“Momma.” They both called to her at once. “Ashley climbed the fence to get the puppy. He’s gonna get kilt.”
“Ashley?” Liz’s face turned white.
“No.” The older one explained. “Our puppy. He went into the pasture, chasing the horses. He’s gonna get stepped on or kicked. Ashley’s okay. He’s just sittin’ up on top of the fence yellin’. I told him that wouldn’t do no good, but he won’t listen.”
Brett moved to the door. “Don’t worry, Liz. I’ll get the puppy. You can get Ashley.”
Nora caught him when he started out the door with the hot pan of bread in his hands. “Here, stick that pan on top of these plates. I’ll take care of it.”
As Brett gave Nora the bread, Lucy and Connie each stepped forward to take a baby from Liz. A lifetime of memories could never erase the image from his mind of Connie holding his tiny niece in her arms. In his imagination, Liz’s baby became his. His and Connie’s.
He shook the thought away and waved an arm toward the boys. “Come on guys, let’s get out of the kitchen before we get thrown out.”
~*~
Connie looked up from the baby in her arms at the sound of Nora’s laughter. The teenager stood with her hands full of dishes in the doorway leading to the dining room. Finally, she caught her breath. “Did you all hear what she said? Children should be seen and not heard? Even if Liz believed that, she’d have a hard time enforcing it.”
Mary and Kate exchanged a look of amusement before Kate spoke. “I’m sure she seldom has a dull moment with her active boys.” She kissed the little boy in her arms. “I wonder if this little fellow will grow up to be like his cousins.”
“No, because your children are quiet and well-behaved.” Nora turned to leave with one parting remark. “Look how good Tod is right now, and where are your other three? Probably in the parlor looking at books.”
Kate shrugged as Nora disappeared into the dining room. “Actually, Elizabeth’s boys are good. They’re just very active.”
Connie didn’t know what to say, so she smiled, shifted the little girl to one side, picked up her plate of sliced onions, and followed Nora into the dining room. At the moment, she was just glad the tiny girl in her arms hadn’t offered a word of complaint, in spite of the fact a stranger had taken her from her mother arms. She’d never held a baby before, but it wasn’t so bad. In fact, it was kinda nice. Too bad this would be her only chance.
The afternoon passed with a dreamlike quality to Connie. She didn’t quite know what to make of Brett’s big family. She liked everyone from the babies on up to Brett’s father, which was something she hadn’t expected. There was always so much going on. At any given moment she could hear at least two, if not three conversations as well as side comments to the children.
She smiled to herself as Liz’s boys continually ran in and out of the house while Kate’s younger boys played quietly in the corner of the living room with some wooden toys. Kate’s two daughters, at nine and eleven years of age, acted like young ladies. Nora certainly had her nieces and nephews pegged.
She glanced at Brett, sitting beside her on the sofa. If they got married for real and had children, would they be like Liz’s? Brett said he was quite a scalawag when he was a boy, so that’s probably what their kids would be like.
Her face warmed as Brett looked down at her and smiled. He couldn’t know what she’d been thinking. He leaned close and whispered. “How about we slip out of here and go for a walk?”
She frowned. “You can’t go nowhere. Your sisters came to see you.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Brett turned away as Kate’s husband spoke to him.
“Connie.” Kate moved to sit on the floor near the sofa. “I didn’t have time before to tell you how grateful we all are for what you did for Brett.”
Connie resisted the urge to squirm. When anyone mentioned her part in saving Brett’s life, she wanted to get up and run away. Maybe she had saved his life, but that hadn’t been her intention. She looked down at her hands before meeting Kate’s warm gaze.
“I ain’t no hero. I just didn’t know how to get to Springfield.”
Kate laughed. “I suppose that makes sense. What amazes me is how God used your need to work His purpose in Brett’s life. I believe God has a plan for Brett—a work for him to do—and you had a hand in it by saving him from death. We don’t know, Connie, maybe God has a work for you, too. Maybe that’s why He used you to free Brett.”
What’d Kate mean? Sure, the Almighty might have some special work for Brett to do. That wouldn’t surprise her one bit. After all, Brett was better than most men. But God wouldn’t pay attention to her. Hadn’t she been told that often enough? Nope, Kate was wrong. No one wanted her except Brett, and after tonight he’d be free of her, too.
The sun lowered over the western horizon when Connie went outside with the family to wave goodbye to Brett’s two sisters and their families. Brett looped his arm around Connie’s shoulders, and they followed his parents back into the house. Mr. Norris settled into an easy chair in the living room. He picked up his Bible and opened it, adjusting his reading glasses. Lucy ran upstairs, and Mrs. Norris disappeared into the kitchen. Connie stood in the circle of Brett’s arm, not caring about the others, only wanting to stay close to her husband forever and knowing she couldn’t.
Nora paused on the stairs as she started up. “Come on, Brett. Let her go for a while. We need to get ready for church tonight.”
Connie’s stomach took a dip. She’d forgotten about her promise to attend church. If she could find a way to get out of going, she would. She looked at Brett. “Sure you wouldn’t rather stay home, just the two of us?”
She knew he understood her meaning when he looked away. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. Then he turned back to her, and her heart thudded at the intense look in his eyes. “Sometimes what we want to do isn’t good for us, Connie.”
He stepped back, letting go of her. “You run upstairs with Nora and get ready for church. Okay?”
Connie looked over her shoulder as she reached the turn in the stairs and caught Brett watching her with the saddest look she’d ever seen in his eyes. How she wished she could tell what he was thinking. How he felt down deep in his heart. Did he somehow know their love and their marriage wasn’t meant to be? He gave her a smile and turned away. She climbed the rest of the way up the stairs after Nora with an emptiness spreading through her soul.
Connie was glad to leave early to walk to church with Brett. Neither found much to say as they crossed the square and climbed the slight rise that led to the large, white building. Connie clung to his hand to still the tremble inside. Although she feared this first glimpse into the stately church where the good, Christian people of Springfield came to pray and read their Bibles, she could face anything with Brett close beside her.
A crowd of people walked toward the church and some arrived by wagon or buggy. One man rode up on horseback. He tethered his horse and disappeared through the door of what looked, from the outside, like a fancy little outhouse stuck to the front of the large church, although Connie didn’t believe that for a minute. The arched door to the little room took up most of the outside wall from the high peaked roof to the steps in front.
Connie hadn’t paid much attention to churches before, but she stared up in awe of the majesty of this one. She took Brett’s arm so he wouldn’t get away. From the large square bell tower
sitting on the peak of the roof to the perfectly groomed shrubs around the foundation, the clean white church seemed formidable to a little ‘have-not’ like her.
She watched the fancy dressed ladies and gentlemen file inside, scarcely hearing the men who called out greetings to Brett. Her hand tightened on his arm as they took the first step and then the second that brought them before the heavy wooden door now swinging open in invitation to enter. Her steps faltered and slowed, but Brett didn’t seem to mind. He was too busy running a gauntlet of backslappers and handshakers. He seemed happy as he spoke to people he knew. Some of them even shook her hand and told her they were pleased to meet her and were glad she’d come. Of course they wouldn’t be if they really knew her.
She scarcely had time to take in her surroundings before they entered a spacious room with the ceiling in a high peak clear up to the roof. Two rows of wooden benches, gleaming with polish, ran from the back door right up to what looked like another smaller, open room.
Brett guided her up the side aisle. By the time they passed the second bench, panic set in just as surely as if she’d been stuffed into a dark closet with the door closed. She pulled on Brett’s arm, bringing him close enough so she could whisper. “Where you goin‘?”
“Nowhere.” He gave her a puzzled frown. “I planned to sit down.”
“There ain’t nothing’ wrong with these benches, is there?” she inclined her head toward the back row.
He grinned and shook his head. “Nope. We can sit on the backslider’s row if you want to.”
Connie slid into the second bench from the back and gave Brett a frown as he sat beside her. “I don’t know what that means, and I ain’t about to ask. I just want to sit back here where all these good, Christian people can’t be starin’ at me and wonderin’ what I’m doin’ here.”
From the look on his face, Connie thought she might have hurt Brett’s feelings. “They aren’t doing that, Connie. Everyone is welcome at church no matter what their background.”
She would’ve argued with him, but at that moment a man stepped up into the open room in front and stood behind a tall skinny table. He talked a little, saying how glad he was that everyone had come tonight. He sat down and another man took his place as organ music swelled throughout the church and they sang several songs. Connie didn’t know any of the words, and she still didn’t read well enough to follow along in the book Brett held, so she just listened. Something about the music soothed the panic she’d felt from the moment they set foot inside, helping her relax. When they prayed, she thought of Brett’s prayers along the trail and felt comforted, knowing these people must have a special connection with the Almighty God. Certainly Brett did.
A hunger she didn’t understand gnawed at her insides. She couldn’t be hungry. It hadn’t been that long since dinner. She tried to ignore the restless feeling in her middle and shifted closer to Brett, seeking his strength.
When the prayer ended, a man stepped behind the little table like the other men had done. He opened the big black book in his hands. “Turn with me to Genesis 3:15, if you will. You might also mark Isaiah 53:3.”
Pages rustled all across the large congregation. Brett opened his Bible and held it so Connie could see. She watched his finger trace the words as the minister read, but she could make out only a few of them. While she followed Brett’s finger, she listened to the preacher. “I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel.”
That sort of made sense. Connie wasn’t sure who the enemies were, but for sure she knew that enemies usually got back at each other. Of course this sounded like a long-standing fight. Even she knew seed meant a man’s offspring.
The preacher began talking about a man named Jesus Christ who loved people so much he’d died in their place. Brett had told her about that while they were on the trail. She forgot the people around her and whether they wanted her there or not. Her attention never wavered from the man in front.
When he told them to turn to Isaiah 53:3, Brett flipped the pages over. Again she followed his finger down the lines as she listened to the words. “He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities . . . All we like sheep have gone astray, we have turned everyone to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all.”
The preacher painted a picture of the sufferings Jesus had taken upon His person so that sinful man might be spared the punishment he so deserved. She understood that she, too, deserved to die for the wrong things she’d done and even for good that she had not done.
The preacher’s voice again caught her attention, “’How can we escape if we neglect so great a salvation?’”
Connie’s strange hunger grew as she listened. She put a couple of inches between her and Brett. That didn‘t help any. She shifted in her seat, trying to find a more comfortable spot. But down deep in her heart she knew the bench wasn’t her problem. The words coming from the preacher’s mouth straight to her soul scared her more than Sheriff Burns or Maggie ever had. She glanced over her shoulder at the back door. Why hadn’t she let Brett get in the bench first? If she couldn’t get outside into the fresh air, she might explode.
When the urge to shove past Brett and run as fast as she could for the door overpowered her, the preacher stopped talking. He asked the people to stand. Relief made her muscles turn soft like a baby’s, so she grabbed the back of the seat in front and held on. Now she’d be able to get out of this church and never come back. The organ started playing real soft while the preacher walked around front of his podium and started talking again, asking folks to come forward for prayer.
Connie glanced over the congregation and saw some of the people had their heads bowed. Some cried real hard. A heavy load settled right in the middle of her chest, and if she hadn’t had the tears beat out of her long ago, she might be crying, too. A young man on the opposite side almost ran to the front. The preacher got excited at that, asking for prayer partners to come and pray.
Several men stepped out, and she couldn’t see what went on after they went up front because of all the people standing in front of her. She gripped the back of the seat tighter to keep from pushing past Brett. The fact was, Connie didn’t know which way she’d run if she did get into the aisle. She might get turned around and head toward the front of the church.
~*~
Brett stood beside Connie praying harder than he’d ever prayed before. He was afraid to speak to her, to encourage her to go forward for prayer, so he turned his petition to his heavenly Father. He saw the white in her fingertips as she held to the seat in front and knew she must have been touched by the service. Surely God was calling Connie, and she would respond just as he’d expected. He’d been so sure that all she needed was to hear the Word of God preached in church.
But Connie didn’t go to the altar. When the service ended, she seemed relieved, glad to get outside. Brett couldn’t stop disappointment from shoving his faith into the corner of his heart.
“If you don’t want to walk, we can ride with Mom and Dad.” He spoke as soon as they were alone.
Her eyes caught the moonlight like dark blue sapphires as she looked up at him. “I reckon walkin’ would be nice.”
“Okay.” Brett felt her small hand slip into his, and he closed his fingers around hers, never wanting to let go.
They walked in silence until they reached the town square. Brett knew he shouldn’t push her, but he had to know what she thought. He smiled down at her. She had on the blue dress she’d worn the night they were married. “I don’t think I’ve told you how beautiful you look tonight. I really like that dress.”
Her lashes lowered, covering her eyes for a moment. Then she looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you, Brett.”
“What do you think of church now you’ve been?”
He heard the wind whistle through her teeth as she sucked in her breath. After a moment, she answered, her voice sof
t and hesitant. “It’s okay.”
A buggy passed them and turned north up Boonville Road. Brett sensed the tension in Connie as they continued across the square and down the road to his folks’ house. He heard the clip clop of the horse’s hooves and looked to see his father’s buggy behind them.
“You two want a ride?” His father called out as they drew alongside.
“No thanks.” Brett answered. “We’ll be along shortly though.”
The girls and Mary waved as they moved on down the road. Brett didn’t know what to say to Connie. He’d been so sure she would respond to the gospel message at church, but she hadn’t.
Again he questioned God. Why had He brought them together? For, surely God’s hand had been in their meeting and in all the narrow escapes He’d led them through. Brett knew a Christian should not marry a nonbeliever, yet he’d married Connie because he’d felt it was the right thing to do. Granted, at the time he had intended to keep his distance, emotionally as well as physically, since their marriage was only for the sake of propriety. He hadn’t counted on falling in love with Connie. Of being unable to sever the legal strings that bound them. He didn’t want to be separated from Connie.
The burden Brett carried weighed heavy on his soul the rest of the evening after the house grew quiet. Connie lay beside him curled into a ball facing the wall. She seemed to be shutting him out. He lay with his arm behind his head, staring into the darkness. He prayed, begged and pleaded with the Lord to speak to Connie, to bring her to salvation. His love for her filled his heart with a bittersweet pain.
As he continued to pray, God showed Brett his own wrong doings. Certainly he had been forced to marry Connie with a shotgun pointed at him. But had he really? At what time had he denied her false accusations against his behavior toward her? Why hadn’t he stepped forward to stop the wedding? Surely, that man of God would have listened to his side of the story. But Brett remained silent, willfully going against God’s plan, because marrying Connie was exactly what he’d wanted to do. Remorse filled his heart, and he wept bitter tears, finally understanding that although Connie might well be the girl for him, he had stepped ahead of God’s time table, and now he must give her back to God.
Connie and the Cowboy (Outlaw Gold) Page 22
