An Undaunted Faith

by Andrea Boeshaar

  “You have our apologies, ma’am,” the sergeant said.

  Beth sent them each a gracious smile before lowering her gaze.

  Just then the boardinghouse’s front door opened and closed with a bang. Suddenly one of Ralph Jonas’s young’uns appeared at the dining room entryway.

  “Pardon me, but I’m lookin’ fer the doc.” His chest rose and fell as he fought to catch his breath. “My pa done tol’ me to fetch her.”

  Bethany turned in her chair. “What’s wrong, Nathan?”

  “It’s the little ones. All of them’s sick real bad. Pa says he’s got all he can do right now.”

  Standing, she moved toward the lanky boy. “I’ll help you find Dr. Cavanaugh.” She glanced at Luke.

  “Go on.” He inclined his head. “I’ll ask Rosalinda to wait on your breakfast.”

  “Thank you.” With an arm around Nathan’s narrow shoulders, Bethany led him out of the boardinghouse.

  Luke watched her go, wearing a grin. He had a feeling that Beth cared for the folks in this town a lot more than she let on.

  THIRTEEN

  SATURDAY ARRIVED, AND AFTER BETHANY HELPED MRS. Winters and Trudy wash and hang clothes, she accepted Luke’s invitation to ride out to the Jonas place. The children were still sick, and Mr. Jonas had gotten behind in his chores. Luke had offered to bring some charitable donations and supplies, and Bethany figured she could help with cooking, housecleaning, and caring for the children while Luke worked on the farm with Mr. Jonas.

  Luke helped her into the wagon and then climbed in and took the reins. As he urged his team forward, Bethany considered him. He’d kept to himself the past day and a half.

  “Is anything wrong, Luke?” The bumpy road leading to the Jonas farm threatened to uproot Bethany from the wagon seat, but she held on tightly. She never knew three miles in a buckboard could feel so uncomfortable—and it wasn’t just the ruts in the road, either. Luke’s silence was unnerving.

  “Well,” he drawled, “I’ve been doing some more thinking about our getting married.”

  “Oh?” Had he changed his mind? Bethany’s heart beat a little harder, and she steeled herself for the worst.

  Luke slowed the wagon to a halt in the middle of the seldom-traveled road. The morning sun beat down on them, and the air felt still and hot against Bethany’s already flushed cheeks. Her sunbonnet proved little use today and more of a nuisance.

  She gazed around. Not a soul could be seen for miles across this desolate stretch of land, although she knew the Jonas farm was just over the hill.

  Luke sat forward, his forearms resting on his knees. His shoulder muscles moved beneath his tan shirt as he shifted his weight. “I know family means a lot to you, especially at our wedding, so I’m willing to get married in Jericho Junction next spring. But you need to know that I plan to turn around and return to Silverstone.” He paused and glanced around him. “This is my home now. Reaching the people here and encouraging their faith is my calling.”

  Bethany gazed at her hands, folded over the skirt of her russet-colored dress. Returning to Silverstone as Luke’s wife defeated the purpose of traveling to Jericho Junction in the first place.

  “I love the Territory, Beth. I sense the great need out here to share God’s truth.” He paused. “My heart is here.”

  “Your heart?” That meant she’d never own it. But hadn’t she known that all along?

  “That’s right.” He paused. “Looks like you’ve got a decision to make.”

  “I’ve already made it. I want to move back to Jericho Junction.” Bethany forced herself to look at Luke.

  His blue eyes darkened. “Now why do you have to be so stubborn? Can’t you agree to at least pray about this?”

  “Why should I?” Her ire flared. “You don’t seem too interested in my opinion anyway.”

  “Well, you can’t live in Jericho Junction and be my wife at the same time.”

  “Don’t patronize me, Luke. I realize you’re giving me an ultimatum.”

  “I don’t see it as such.” He adjusted the brim of his tan hat. “I just want to be honest with you from the git-go.”

  “Thank you very much.” Bethany’s jaw tensed, and she trained her gaze on the road ahead.

  Luke slapped the reins and the wagon jerked forward. He gave Bethany a sideways glance. “I always hoped that the right woman would be willing to follow me anywhere.”

  “Maybe you need to keep looking for that right woman.”

  “Oh, now, Beth—”

  “Figuratively, the Territory is your woman.” Bethany hated the feeling of playing second fiddle. “After all, you can’t share your heart with someone if you’ve already given it away.”

  “What?” He shook his head. “That makes no sense.” He snorted indignantly. “Figuratively.”

  “The word means not literal, like a metaphor or figure of speech.”

  “I know what the word means.” A knifelike sharpness edged his reply.

  Bethany pressed her lips together. She saw no point in arguing.

  The horses’ hooves kicked up dust from the road as they trotted onward. Bethany suddenly recalled the times she’d sat next to Luke on the trail. But instead of gazing over horses, it’d been oxen pulling a covered wagon. She and Luke would talk or sometimes sing to pass the time. It felt uncomfortable not to be speaking to each other now.

  Bethany tried hard to focus on her surroundings. What did Luke see in this dusty, brown desert dotted with brush and rock?

  Within minutes she got what seemed like a divine reply. The road made a bend and ran parallel to the river. Then Luke steered his team across a narrow, wooden bridge, and suddenly lush, fertile land stretched out before them. Rivulets from the Colorado ran through it, dug in for irrigation purposes. Bethany had been here before and thought the Jonas farm was more pleasing to the eye than the desert. However, that didn’t change Bethany’s opinion of the Territory.

  The silence between them continued the rest of the way to the Jonas farm. When they arrived, Luke slowed the horses to a halt and wrapped the reins around the brake. Bethany moved to climb off the wagon, but Luke stepped over her and jumped down first. He stretched out his arms to assist her, and she had no recourse but to comply, except he didn’t remove his hands from her waist after her booted feet touched the dirt.

  He leaned so close that the brim of his hat shadowed her face. His eyes flicked over her mouth before traveling up and meeting her gaze. “You gonna stay mad at me all day?” His voice was but a whisper.

  “N–no.” Suddenly his nearness had an unsettling effect and caused her to forget what had angered her in the first place.

  “Glad to hear it.” He stared at her hard, and Bethany suspected he was about to kiss her. But then he stepped back and took her hand. “Let’s both pray on the matter, and we can talk later. All right?”

  “All right.” But neither prayer nor discussion would ever change her mind about staying here in Silverstone!

  The incessant hammering distracted Annetta from penning in her medical log for the umpteenth time this morning. She rose from her desk and strode to the front windows, wondering who was building what. Unable to see anything except a few of the town’s soiled doves wearing brightly colored dresses at the far side of the saloon, Annetta decided to investigate.

  Leaving the clinic, Annetta walked in the direction of the pounding. The sound ricocheted off the wooden buildings she passed. As she came up to the church, she could see Jacob McCabe working with the load of lumber he’d picked up days ago. Two Mexican men assisted him. Then all at once Annetta realized they were the object of the prostitutes’ ogling.

  She set her jaw, and her fists clenched in irritation as her gaze darted between the women and Jake and his crew. Next the hope that Jake would never succumb to such temptation rose up inside of her. But why should she care? She didn’t want to, and yet this morning she wished she had awakened in time to have breakfast with him at the boardinghouse. Since their impromp
tu dinner Wednesday night, he’d permeated her thoughts more than Annetta cared to admit. She hated to think that she might actually be attracted to the ruggedly handsome reverend.

  The hot sun bore down on her as she stood there battling her emotions.

  “Good mornin’, Dr. Cavanaugh.”

  Hearing his voice, she snapped to attention in time to see Jake lift a hand in greeting. She gave him a nod. Glancing across the street, she spied the women’s glare, and somehow their interest propelled Annetta forward. Lifting her hems, she stepped off the boardwalk and picked her way toward Jake.

  He straightened, hammer still in hand. “What can I do for you this fine morning, Annetta?” he asked when she reached him.

  “I couldn’t help hearing you working over here and got curious.” She eyed the spot where she’d been thinking a hospital would fit nicely. It appeared that dream got dashed like all her others. “What are you building?”

  Jake’s brown eyes twinkled. “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Of course.” Annetta kept many, many secrets.

  “Well, Luke thinks I’m building myself a little cabin so he and Beth can live in the one behind the church. But I’m surprising him by building a formal rectory. He and his bride will have a brand-new home—and a larger one.”

  “How nice.” Annetta folded her arms, impressed by Jake’s benevolence.

  “My wedding present to them.”

  “Very generous of you. I’d say Luke and Bethany are a lucky couple.”

  Jake smiled and then spoke broken Spanish to his helpers, telling them to take a break. They seemed to understand and dropped their tools to go sit in the shade of the mesquite tree near the schoolhouse.

  Jake set down his hammer and limped to a nearby bucket. Reaching inside, he brought the dipper to his lips and swallowed several gulps of water.

  “Is your leg bothering you today?” Annetta had noticed his uneven gait seemed more predominant this morning.

  “No more than usual.” With his back to her, he took off his hat and splashed his face.

  Annetta sensed that her question embarrassed him. “Forgive me for noticing such things. I’m a doctor.” Immediately she thought that quinine might ease any discomfort he experienced.

  “No harm done.”

  Jake turned and made his way toward her. Perspiration and some of the water from the bucket stained much of his tan shirt, and woodchips stuck to his dark brown trousers. But even in his work-worn state, Annetta found him appealing. Masculine and yet harmless and…safe.

  She pulled her gaze away. What minister of God would want her if he knew the truth?

  “Annetta, you seem troubled. What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I’m perfectly fine. I just wanted to see what you’re building out here.” She rolled a shoulder. “Consider me a nosey neighbor.”

  Jake chuckled. “All right, I will.”

  The sound of his laughter caused her to smile—until she caught another sight of the prostitutes still standing beneath the overhang of the saloon.

  “And I guess I’m not the only nosey one in town.”

  Jake squinted off in the prostitutes’ direction, and an expression of sorrow fell over his face. Not of interest, Annetta noted, but of pity. “God help them, every one.” His gaze returned to Annetta. “Back in Jericho Junction, my folks made a point to rescue women out of the bondage of that lifestyle.”

  “Oh?”

  “Uh-hmm. You see, a lot of working girls believe they don’t have other choices—until they let the love of God enter their hearts, souls, and minds.” He inclined his head and flicked another glance toward the painted trio. “Seems to me I’ve talked to those three already.”

  “You…what?” A wave of shock went through her.

  “Talked to them. Shared the gospel.”

  “You deigned to speak to…to women of ill repute?” Annetta had thought Jake would shun them. “What do the good citizens of Silverstone say about that?”

  “I’m very careful how I approach those ladies. I keep a respectful distance at all times.” Jake’s tone was steady and sincere. “I think folks around here know Luke and me well enough and figure we’re just doing our jobs.”

  Annetta felt repulsed. Imagine the Reverends McCabe consorting with that ilk! She imagined the sorts of diseases women in such an industry contracted. But before she could shudder at the thought, another notion formed. Diseases. She was a physician. Hadn’t she sworn to treat everyone, no matter what their race or creed?

  Slowly she looked from the women near the saloon to Jake. “I must say, you are truly an inspiration, Jacob McCabe.”

  “Oh?” He arched a brow.

  “Yes.” She turned to go, but remembered the quinine. “Will you be at the boardinghouse for dinner this evening?”

  “I can be.” He seemed a little puzzled.

  “Good. I have something for you. And now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job of my own to do.”

  Annetta strode back toward the clinic. Horse-drawn wagons rattled up and down the street, but as soon as an opening presented itself, she crossed the street. From a distance she heard Jake call her name and acknowledged the warning in his tone. However, she refused to be dissuaded from her mission. If her parents hadn’t been wealthy enough to fund her medical schooling, Annetta might be a woman of…of no choices too.

  Determination guided her steps as she approached the three women. Their faces registered their amazement.

  “Please allow me to introduce myself.” Annetta squared her shoulders and paid no attention to the burly man who’d just stepped out of the saloon. “I’m the new doctor in town, and my clinic doors are always—”

  Suddenly an all-too-familiar click sounded close to her ear just before she felt the barrel of a gun jab into the base of her skull. In that second Annetta knew she’d made a deadly mistake.

  FOURTEEN

  A HAND CLAMPED DOWN HARD OVER ANNETTA’S MOUTH. Panic rose inside of her. Had the nightmare returned? Only this time it wasn’t just another bad dream!

  Deciding she’d rather die than suffer at the hands of a strange, unkempt man, Annetta worked her teeth into his beefy palm and bit down hard, while jamming her elbow into his midsection.

  “Ow!” He removed his hand. “You little she-cat!”

  He released Annetta with a shove, and she stumbled, falling onto the dirty boardwalk. Bawdy female laughter followed her. Annetta’s stomach lurched at the smell of stale whiskey, tobacco, and human vomit.

  She squeezed her eyes closed, expecting to hear gunfire at any moment and then a lead ball piercing her flesh.

  “You sure got a way with women, Crawford.”

  Hearing the familiar voice, Annetta looked to see a pair of dusty black boots before two strong hands gently gripped her arms and helped her to stand.

  “Jake.” Relief flooded her being.

  “You all right?”

  She nodded.

  “I got ammunition enough to kill you too, Preacher,” Crawford growled.

  Prickles of foreboding ran down her spine. Something about the unshaven, pot-bellied man seemed oddly familiar. Perhaps it had to do with his icy-blue eyes. They were unnaturally bright. However, their diabolically evil gleam caused Annetta to lower her gaze.

  Crawford spit toward the street. “You know what Chicago Joe said about you do-gooders stayin’ away from her girls.”

  “I just came to collect Dr. Cavanaugh.” Jake pulled her behind him. “She’s new in town. She didn’t know better.” He glanced over his shoulder, giving Annetta a stern look. “But now she does, so it won’t happen again.”

  “I only wanted to introduce myself.” A portion of Annetta’s determination returned. “In case of a medical emergency.”

  “Well, it’s a real pleasure ta meet ya.” A blonde, wearing the greenest dress Annetta had ever seen, sashayed toward them. She gave Jake an appreciative glance before her gaze settled on Annetta again. “Next time we’ll have a regular
tea party.”

  The woman broke out in raucous laughter. Her friends did the same. Crawford stood by and snickered.

  Annetta let out a long, slow breath. Her dignity had been bruised, but her conscience had not. She’d at least tried to reach out to these women, and perhaps if they found themselves needing medical advice, they would cross the street to the clinic or send for her.

  “Hey!” An ebony-haired woman stuck her head out the opened, second-story window. “You girls get back to work! The saloon’s pretty-near empty.”

  They scattered like leftover confetti.

  “And Crawford,” she bellowed in a deep, masculine voice, “I want to see that doctor up here in my room.”

  Jake turned to her. “You don’t have to go, Annetta.”

  “Really?” She couldn’t help her sarcastic tone. “If you haven’t noticed, we have a gun pointing in our direction.”

  “I noticed. But my God is bigger than Dirk Crawford’s gun.”

  Annetta marveled at his confidence and peeked around him to stare up at the window.

  The barrel of a gun appeared. “Don’t make me kill you, Preacher. If I miss, Crawford won’t.”

  “Is your God bigger than two guns?”

  “Yes, He is.” Jake set his hands on his hips and faced his adversaries straight on. “She’s not coming up.”

  Crawford took aim at Jake.

  Annetta cringed, waiting to hear the gunfire. Around them, a small crowd gathered. Wagons halted in the middle of the street. An eerie hush seemed to fall over the town as if the townsfolk held their breath.

  Panic rose inside of Annetta. Would this evil man shoot and kill Jake—like the renegade who murdered Gregory?

  She moved to clutch the back of Jake’s shirt, and her fingers fell over, and briefly lingered, on the gun tucked into its holster. She had her pistol. Maybe together they could—

  “Don’t even think it, Annetta,” Jake muttered over his shoulder while slowly raising his hands in surrender.

  Making a fist around the fabric of his shirt, Annetta held on tightly. She could barely breathe. But as the seconds ticked by, she started feeling safe with Jake. Somehow she knew he’d win this standoff. Besides, if Crawford meant to kill them, he would have pulled the trigger already.