“Books are replaceable. People are not.”
“I think your books were more valuable than me.”
Bethany collected some under-things then found a gown from her wardrobe and handed it all over to Angie. “You are most definitely more valuable than my books. God created you, and you are special. You are His prize. He loves you.”
“How can that be?”
“It’s hard to fathom, I know. I must admit I struggle myself at times.” Bethany began to remove the soaking garments from her body. “I often wonder why God chose me, a plain little field mouse, to be His princess.” Bethany smiled. “You see, God is the Lord of lords and King of kings. That makes His children royalty.”
“It sounds like a fairy tale.” Cynicism laced Angie’s voice, but Bethany couldn’t blame her for her unbelief.
“Angie, if you would just keep your mind open to the truth, and read God’s Word—”
“Oh!” Anguish filled her tone. “The Bible you gave me burned also.”
“Luke and Jake have extra Bibles to give to those who truly want them. Meanwhile, you may use my Bible.”
Despite the darkness, Bethany glimpsed Angie’s nod.
“I think you’d best know that when Chicago Joe finds out I’m missing, she’ll send her hired gun, Dirk Crawford, to find me. He’s a ruthless man, Bethany. When he finds me, he’ll beat me for sure.” Angie’s voice shook. “He may even kill me. And…well, he might kill you too.”
“I doubt you’re the only working girl that goes missing tonight.” Bethany figured any one of those women would run for their lives.
“Perhaps others escaped too. But still…”
The sound of angry voices wafted up from the street.
“Don’t come back here!” It sounded like Mr. Winters. “You and your ilk aren’t welcome in Silverstone.”
“Silverstone should be mine, the bank included!”
“It’s Chicago Joe,” Angie whispered. “And look…there’s Dirk Crawford, driving the wagon.”
Bethany peered out the window beside her friend and saw that, indeed, a wagon had been pulled around in front of the smoldering ruins. She couldn’t make out the man’s features as he wore a wide-brimmed hat, but she could see the reins in his large hands. Chicago Joe sat in the wagon bed, and women were climbing in beside her.
“This town never belonged to you,” Mr. Winters bellowed. “It belongs to the decent folks who work hard to make this a respectable place to live. You and yours only brought danger and death to Silverstone. As for the bank, Les Beasley opened up and withdrew your money plus interest. You’ve got it now, so leave and never return!”
“This isn’t the last you’ll hear from me, Winters.”
“It better be. I got the law on my side.”
Angie whispered to Bethany, “Chicago Joe and Crawford never abide by the law.”
Foreboding shimmied up her spine. Bethany moved away from the window and finished changing her clothes.
“Now Chicago Joe is talking to your man.”
Bethany rushed forward and knelt beneath the window. She wondered why Luke would save such an evil woman’s life. But he had, and now, just as Angie said, he stood in the middle of Main Street, speaking with her. While she couldn’t hear what was being said between them, she figured Chicago Joe was thanking Luke for saving her.
“Most of the other girls wished your fella would forget his religion and pay them a call. Some even bet on whether he would or not. He wouldn’t be the first preacher to fall from grace.”
Bethany gasped. “No!”
“It’s true. But don’t worry. Reverend Luke never came calling. Neither did Reverend Jacob.”
“I’m relieved to know it.” Quickly Bethany brushed out her hair and repinned it at her nape.
“They’re fine men, those McCabes.”
“Yes, they are.”
“Unlike that filthy Dirk Crawford.” Angie stepped away from the window and sat down on the side of the bed.
“He scares me, that Crawford fellow.”
“He ought to scare you.” Angie paused before continuing. “I heard he’s from somewhere out East. He fought with a militia during the war, then like many people, he came out West afterwards.”
“Same with Jake. That’s how he came to know Silverstone existed. It was during the time he served under McCulloch, before the war even began. His regiment built Confederate alliances with several Indian nations.”
“Well, I wouldn’t dare put Crawford in the same league as Reverend Jacob. No, sir. Crawford is the kind who prefers to only come out at night. He’s the sort of reptile that stays in the shadows and kills anything or anyone that crosses him.”
Bethany’s mouth suddenly went dry. “I can only imagine how he got hooked up with Chicago Joe.” Disgust filled her.
“Dirk Crawford is the most savage and soulless man I’ve ever known.”
Again Bethany heard a frightened wavering in Angie’s voice, and it sent a chill straight through her. She didn’t regret hiding Angie. She even believed she’d done the right thing. However, she sensed that she was in well over her head now. But Luke would know how to handle the situation.
“Angie, I need to go find Luke and make sure he’s all right.”
“Go ahead. I’ll stay here and mind the baby.” There was a smile in her hushed voice. “It’s been a long, long while since I held a baby, but I haven’t entirely forgotten what to do.”
“Pull the shutters if you want to light a lamp,” Bethany warned.
“Don’t worry. I’m not about to ruin this chance to escape. Did I tell you? I have a sister in San Francisco. She wants me to come and live with her—told me so in her last letter.”
Bethany recalled the missive she’d taken to Angie.
“If there’s some way I can get to San Francisco…”
“I’ll talk to Luke. He’ll know what to do.” Bethany’s hand turned the knob. “I’ll be back shortly. In the meantime, try to get some rest.”
Leaving the room, she closed the door behind her. The upstairs hallway was empty, and Bethany felt sure Angie and Michael were both safe. Downstairs the sounds of talking wafted up to the second floor. Bethany decided to use the back stairwell so she wouldn’t arouse any suspicions.
And then she needed to find Luke, after which she’d have an awful lot of explaining to do.
TWENTY-ONE
MISS STAFFORD!” TRUDY HIKED HER HEMS AND RAN toward Bethany. “Where have you been?”
“I went back to check on the baby.”
“Oh.” A sober expression crept across her face. But then a second later her eyes sparked. “Miss Stafford, you would have been proud of me if you’d seen. I bandaged a man’s arm this evening. The poor fellow got an awful burn, running from the saloon. I did so well that Mama said I should talk to Dr. Cavanaugh about learning doctoring skills.”
“Why, Trudy, I am proud of you.” Bethany hugged the girl and glanced over her head, hoping to catch sight of Luke. “Have you seen Reverend Luke recently?”
“Yes, ma’am. He went home to wash up and change. I heard him tell that to Papa.”
“I see. Well, I need to take care of a matter, but later you can tell me all about your experience nursing.”
“Yes, Miss Stafford.” Although put off for the time being, the excitement still shone in Trudy’s eyes. She flounced into the lobby.
With Trudy occupied, Bethany left the boardinghouse and stepped into a throng of people. The fire seemed to be the pressing topic, although some men lamented the loss of their favorite “waterin’ hole.”
Sheriff Montaño stood on a step and spoke to the gathering townsfolk.
“Chicago Joe will try to rebuild—unless the town board writes up an ordinance banning a saloon and…house of ill repute. Then I would have no choice but to enforce the new law.”
“Good idea, Sheriff!” A pleased look shone from Mr. Winters’s face.
Meanwhile shouts of “nay” as well as shouts of “yay” emanated from the
crowd.
“I demand a vote!” one man hollered.
Mr. Winters shifted his stance. “All right, then.” A frown furrowed his brow. “A vote it is. But not tonight. We’ll have a regular town meetin’ at the church next week.”
“And speaking of church,” the sheriff said, “we have a hero in our town. Reverend Luke risked his life to keep a woman from burning to death.”
“But she ain’t worth it!” some man yelled from the crowd.
Bethany clenched her fists at her side.
Montaño refuted the retort. “In spite of what she has done and what she is, Chicago Joe didn’t deserve to die in such a horrifying way while we all stood in the street and watched. If you are Christians, you would have to agree, sí? Any human life is worth saving.”
No one argued, and Bethany glanced down at the toes of her boots in effort to hide her smile. Her respect for Paden Montaño went up a few notches. As for Luke…
She glanced up the street but didn’t see any sign of him. Was he all right? Had he been hurt after all?
The rain had stopped, and Bethany figured that at a quick jog she could reach the McCabes’ cabin in minutes and with minimal danger, what with all the activity going on in front of the boardinghouse. Once there, she figured that she and Luke would be properly chaperoned. Surely Jake had arrived back from riding his circuit. Perhaps he would have some good input as to how to get Angie to San Francisco.
In any case, Bethany knew she wouldn’t rest until she learned that Luke was all right.
Skirting around the crowd, she started off in a rapid pace. A swell of thick smoke still hung in the air. Thunder rumbled off in the distance. She quickened her steps and then, as she neared the schoolhouse, she heard a rustling at the end of the boardwalk. She slowed, thinking she saw a figure of a man standing in the darkness. And she would have screamed for Luke, but with the next flash of lightning, she realized the man’s identity.
“Warring Spirit?”
He stayed in the shadows, but Bethany could see he wore a long tunic, pants, and moccasins. “I come to see what makes great smoke in the sky.”
“The saloon and brothel burned down.” Bethany had to say she was glad about it. Maybe now this town would begin drawing good, decent people instead of lawless men who had gunfights in the middle of the road and in front of innocent children.
“Preacher Luke McCabe walked through fire.”
“You saw that?” Bethany brightened. “Luke saved Chicago Joe.”
“His God is very powerful.”
“Yes, He is.” Bethany felt humbled at the admission. Thank You, Lord, for sparing Luke’s life.
“You go to see Preacher Luke McCabe now?” Warring Spirit’s horse tossed his head, but he hung on to the reins.
“Yes. I’m on my way to the cabin Luke shares with his brother Jake. It’s just down the street.”
“I see you there safe.”
Bethany nodded her thanks and continued walking. When they reached the cabin, Warring Spirit paused.
“Luke will want to say hello. Please don’t leave just yet.” Bethany knocked on the door. “Luke?”
It opened no more than a minute later. “Beth. What are you doing here?” Luke’s sandy-brown hair was still wet, but his clothes looked dry. “I know you wouldn’t venture out here alone at night.” He dipped his head.
Hearing the warning in his tone, Bethany felt glad she could reply that she hadn’t. “No, Warring Spirit accompanied me.” She turned to the side so he’d see the brave. “Luke, I was so scared when I saw you enter that burning building.”
“I’m sorry I frightened you, Beth.” Luke set his arm around her, giving her shoulders a series of short hugs. In spite of his change of clothes, he still smelled like smoke.
Warring Spirit’s horse whinnied as another rumble of thunder reverberated through the air and finally shook the very ground on which they stood.
“Your God is very powerful, Preacher Luke McCabe.” Warring Spirit stepped forward.
“He saw you rescue Chicago Joe too,” Bethany explained.
“Ah…” Looking at the other man, Luke said, “Yes, my God is all powerful. Won’t you come in? I will tell you all about Him.”
“Yes.” Warring Spirit tossed the reins around the hitching post, leaving his animal standing beneath the cabin’s overhang.
Bethany entered the home and immediately felt the cold and damp that the change in weather had brought.
Luke strode to the hearth and hunkered in front of the hearth. “Have a seat, Warring Spirit, while I make a fire.”
“Your God is powerful through the fire.”
“Yes, He protected me tonight. He is not only powerful, but He is a good God—and a God of peace.”
“Tell me more.”
Bethany took it upon herself to make a pot of coffee. As it cooked on the stove, she went around the cabin and closed the wooden shutters. At one point, she caught Luke’s gaze, and it was if, just by looking into their depths, she could read his very thoughts. Pray, Beth. She smiled. She would.
Father God, open Warring Spirit’s mind so that he will understand the truth as Luke presents it.
When the coffee finished brewing, she poured it into two tin cups and served the men.
“Mmm…good. Warm to my innards.” Warring Spirit nodded his thanks, and Bethany realized then that he’d likely been caught in that first downpour too.
“Thank you, Beth.” Luke raised his cup.
She smiled again. “You’re welcome.” She crossed the cabin and sat at the large table while Luke continued to converse with the Indian brave. A comfortable, easy feeling enveloped her as the warmth from the fire took the chill from the air. She ran her finger along a scar on the tabletop and silently made another petition to God for the salvation of Warring Spirit’s soul. She realized then that Chicago Joe’s rescue hadn’t been so much to save that evil woman’s life but to give time to save her soul. And to demonstrate God’s love to those who witnessed Luke’s daring. Like Warring Spirit—
And perhaps even like herself. For the first time Bethany felt as though she was part of the very fabric of Luke’s ministry. Oh, she’d helped him numerous times on the trail. But tonight she felt as though she actually…belonged.
“My God came to earth in the form of a man—like you and me.” Luke spoke in a slow and steady voice. “He said that no greater love has any man than this, that a man lay down his life for a friend. So that’s what my God did, Warring Spirit. He gave His human life and suffered the sins of all mankind so that you and I can live one day in eternity with Him. His name is Jesus Christ, and all you have to do is confess your wrongdoings to Him and believe.”
Warring Spirit sat back in the wooden armchair. His deerskin-encased legs were stretched out in front of him. “I believe because I see with my eyes His power through the fire.”
With her gaze fixed on Luke, Bethany smiled. She loved him, and now she realized that she belonged with him. Suddenly her plans of returning to Jericho Junction for good disappeared like a puffy white cloud on a windy day. If Luke wanted to live in Silverstone, then Bethany knew she wanted to stay here with him. She simply couldn’t imagine a life without Luke McCabe.
Which meant leaving the territory was no longer an option.
“So. You never did say what happened to Old Man Potter, our host this evening.” Annetta lay down on her hard bedroll. Jake had packed two, one with each horse, and now she thanked God for his wisdom in doing so.
A small fire crackled at a safe distance between their bedrolls while outside thunder shook the barn’s walls and the very ground they lay on.
“He took consumption and died is what I heard when I got back to Silverstone a couple of months ago.”
Lightning flashed and lit up the barn.
“Pneumonia?” Annetta brought the blanket up higher, over her chin.
“I ’spect. A friend found him dead in the house. Since Potter was loved by most of the townsfolk, everyone sh
ared responsibilities of taking on his animals, cleaning out the barn and his house.”
“He didn’t have any family?”
“None. A wife and a couple of sons. But Old Man Potter outlived them all.”
“Let me get this straight. He had pneumonia, was loved by all, but had no one to take care of him?”
Jake paused, and she could just make out his expression through the flames of their dwindling campfire. “I reckon that about sums it up.”
A spark of determination caused Annetta to sit straight up. “Jake, Mr. Potter is the very reason I think Silverstone needs a hospital.”
“Hospital?” Rolling onto his side, he pushed up on one elbow. “There’s barely enough folks sick to keep you busy as it is.”
“Not true. I just don’t have an adequate facility in which to treat patients. My little clinic is too small and very indiscreet for the ladies—some men too. Consequently the only men coming through my doors are those wounded by gunfire or pierced by arrows, and half of them are unconscious.”
“Hmm…”
Annetta sensed he was both listening and taking her seriously. She pressed on. “You know the story of Mrs. Jonas, right?”
“Died after childbirth.”
“Yes, but it was so unnecessary. According to what Ralph’s eldest daughter, Lacey, has told me, the baby was delivered without complications. It was hours later that Mrs. Jonas began to hemorrhage. As a physician, I could have saved her life…in a hospital…where I could have operated, possibly stopped her bleeding, and she could have recovered.” Annetta tried to keep the disgust from her voice. “Lacey said her father insisted Mrs. Jonas help with chores shortly after Michael was born. Can you imagine? After delivering a baby the poor woman hadn’t been allowed even one day’s rest.”
“I know, Netta. Some men have as much sense as bullfrogs.”
“And just as much sensitivity.”
Jake released an audible sigh.
“Anyway, my hope was to see a hospital erected near the church—on the very spot where you’re constructing the rectory, in fact.”
“My father’s benefactor purchased three hundred acres on which I built that church, the cabin, and now Luke and Bethany’s new home.”
An Undaunted Faith Page 21
