The Maverick Preacher (14 page)

Adie wiped her nose, then looked chagrined. “I’ll wash it for you.”

He didn’t give a whit about the handkerchief. He pushed to his feet and offered his hand. She took it and stood. As she tipped up her chin, Josh bent his neck. He wanted to kiss her, but he didn’t have the right. Tonight in the garden he’d imagined a future with this woman. He’d expected to find his sister alive and happy and had dreamed of coming back to Denver. Instead he’d found a tintype with eyes that would never blink.

His search had ended, but Emily’s death kept him in chains. She’d died of natural causes, but Josh felt as if he’d killed her. How could he think of his own happiness with her blood on his hands? On the other hand, he had a duty to care for his nephew. Just as compelling for Josh, he’d made a vow the day he’d left Boston. He’d promised to serve God far and wide. Never again would he pridefully pastor a church.

As much as he wanted to tell Adie how he felt, he couldn’t speak until he made peace with God and himself. After a tiny squeeze, he released her hand.

Adie picked up the journal and handed it to him. “This belongs to Stephen, but you can read it.”

He wanted to know Emily’s story but dreaded her accusations. Why hadn’t she written to Sarah or their cousin Elliot? Before he’d left Boston, Josh had written a letter to be sent if Emily revealed her whereabouts. If she’d taken that single step, she’d have learned how deeply he regretted his mistakes. Had he hurt her that profoundly? The truth was in the journal. As he’d told Adie, secrets caused pain. Emily’s secrets were in the book and she deserved to tell them. He took the journal from Adie and slipped the picture inside the back cover.

Adie sighed. “I wish I’d told you sooner.”

“When did you realize?”

“The first night on the porch, when I choked on my water.” She went to the divan.

Josh dreaded going to his room, so he dropped back on the chair. They both needed clarity. “I had no idea.”

“But before that night, I wasn’t sure. You’re nothing like Maggie described.”

The compliment warmed him, but guilt doused that small flame. “I was, though.”

“Not anymore.”

“I wish…” He shook his head. “I’d give anything to tell her how sorry I am.”

“Maybe she knew.”

The journal felt like a brick in his lap. “I doubt it.”

“I don’t know,” Adie said. “At the end, she asked for the book. She wrote something, just a line or two. I’ve never read it.”

A dying woman’s words could be anything. Maybe she’d forgiven him.

“Will you read it tonight?” Adie asked.

“I have to.”
Will you read it with me?

The question made it halfway to his tongue before he stifled it. He had to face Emily alone. The cover grew warm in his hands. If Emily had forgiven him, everything would change. He’d be free to stay in Denver. Once Adie made peace with God, he’d be free to court her with whole bouquets of roses.

Please, Lord. Let it be Your will.

Josh pushed to his feet.

So did she.

He saw a new softness around her mouth. The sparrow would sleep well tonight. Slowly, as if she were unsure of herself, she kissed his cheek. Her red hair tickled his jaw, but the kiss held only innocence. She’d offered it with the same gratitude a broken woman had shown to Jesus when she’d anointed his feet with oil. The oil had been her most precious possession. Likewise, Adie’s kiss had been a gift—the best she had to offer.

Josh felt honored. For all his mistakes, he’d done one thing
right. He’d given Adie a son. “Just so you know, I intend to make this adoption legal. I don’t want you to ever worry about someone taking Stephen away.”

She stepped back with a sheen in her eyes. “You’re a good man, Josh.”

His pride puffed up. He had to quell it. “I’m human, Adie. Deep down, I’m as weak-minded as anyone.”

Her brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

It seemed plain to Josh. “What don’t you see?”

“Mary shot you and you forgave her. Caroline’s been forward, but you’ve been gentle. You’ve tried to help Pearl. And Bessie…she calls you her friend. If that’s not ‘good,’ I don’t know what is.”

Her praise was a balm to his conscience. He’d been a protector and friend to the women of Swan’s Nest. To Adie, he wanted to be more. He wanted to be a husband. Was there hope? Did she share his tender feelings? He had to know. “Who am I to you?”

She looked into his eyes, then touched his cheek again. Her fingers left a cool trail. “You’re the best man I’ve ever known.”

He knew then that Adie, like himself, had been wondering about a future together. The thought made him feel alive, a reaction he had to control. Until he did business with God, he had no right to encourage Adie’s feelings. Never mind that he wanted to kiss her and not on the cheek. In spite of his worries, his lips curled with the pleasure of the compliment. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“It’s true.”

She sounded defiant, as if she’d fight for him. Josh intended to do whatever fighting was necessary, especially where it concerned Adie and Franklin Dean, but he treasured having her for an ally. She’d make a fine preacher’s wife…except she’d stopped talking to God.

Please, Lord. I need Your help.

Josh didn’t expect an answer and he didn’t get one. Instead he felt a quiet prompting to read the journal. The book held the key. If Emily had forgiven him, he’d be free to stay in Denver. He couldn’t court Adie, but he could be her friend. He wanted to kiss her good-night but settled for holding her hand, raising it slightly to take the weight of it. “It’s been a rough night but a good one.”

Her eyes shone. “Thank you, Josh, for everything.”

Before he could change his mind about that kiss on the lips, he left for his room. Everything—his future, his calling—depended on what Emily had written in her journal.

Adie watched Josh leave with the notebook in hand. She hoped Emily had forgiven him in those final words. It was possible. Adie recalled her mother’s last hours. For years Thelma Clarke had resented her husband for leaving for the gold fields. In her dying moments, she’d spoken to her daughter of love.

“He hurt me, child. But I love him. I forgive him for leaving us. I hope you can forgive me for dying.”

Adie had forgiven her mother easily. She’d saved her anger for God.

As Josh turned the corner, she hoped Emily had let go of her resentment. The thought rocked her to the core. What would she do if Timothy Long tracked her to Denver to apologize? Even if he begged her to forgive him, she’d want to see him pay for what he’d done to her. She felt the same way about Reverend Honeycutt. He didn’t deserve to run a church.

Annoyed, she blew out the lamp and walked up the stairs. Voices came from Pearl’s room, so she went to join her friends. As she stepped through the door, she saw Mary sitting on the foot of the bed, Pearl propped up on pillows and Bessie
at her side. Caroline sat in a stuffed chair with Stephen in her arms. All the windows were open, but the room still reeked of smoke. Tomorrow Adie would wash curtains and use vinegar on the glass. No way would Franklin Dean scare her away from Swan’s Nest. She pulled up a chair from the secretary. “How’s everyone?”

“It could have been worse,” Mary replied.

Adie felt the same way. “Even so, we have to protect ourselves. Any ideas?”

Pearl spoke in a near whisper. “I could leave.”

“No!” said all four women.

Bessie looked at Pearl. “It’s not just you Dean’s after. He wants Adie’s house.”

Pearl looked pinched. “I think his driver set the fire.”

Bessie stood up from the bed. She was the oldest and tonight she looked wise. “We have to fight, ladies.”

Mary broke in. “I’ve got the pistol—”

Caroline grimaced. “Guns don’t solve problems. They make them worse. We need to be smart.”

Not everyone agreed with Caroline, but no one spoke. This wasn’t the time to argue, only to decide.

Bessie started to pace. “I say we keep watch. We’ll take turns at night, except for Pearl.”

“But I want to help,” the girl insisted. “I can’t sleep anyway.”

Adie held the deed to Swan’s Nest, but the house belonged to each of them. She looked at her friends one at time. “I love you all.”

“We love you, too,” Caroline said. “You’ve given us a home. We’re not going to let a bully take it.”

“That’s right.” Bessie sounded like a Confederate general. “I wish we’d fought for our home in Virginia. Instead we let the Yankees take it over and we paid. I won’t play dead now.”

Mary’s expression hardened. “We’ll have to watch both doors.”

Even with everyone on guard, Adie knew they all felt vulnerable. It showed in their eyes.

Pearl spoke next. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt. Maybe I should speak to Frank.”

“Don’t,” Adie said. “He’s dangerous.”

“I have to do
something.
” Pearl knotted her fists. “If he believes I won’t marry him, maybe he’ll stop.”

“He’ll never stop,” Mary said bitterly. “I know his kind.”

Pearl sighed. “What else can I do?”

“I don’t know,” Bessie said. “But we should speak with Reverend Blue. He might have another idea.”

At the mention of Josh, Caroline turned to Adie. “He wanted to speak with you. Was it about the fire?”

“In a way.” Her lies had gone up in smoke. “You all know Stephen’s adopted. My friend, Maggie Butler, was really Emily Blue. Josh is Stephen’s uncle.”

The room went deathly still.

Pearl broke the silence. “Do you get to keep the baby?”

“Josh says he’s mine forever.” She told the story of the journal, the picture and the jewelry. “He’s going to make the adoption legal. I can’t imagine anything better.”

“I can.” Mary looked smug. “He should marry you.”

Adie’s jaw dropped.

“Why not?” Mary hugged her knees to her chest. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, not to mention the way
you
look at him.”

“Me, too,” Pearl added.

Caroline managed a faint smile. “I’m pea green with envy, but Mary’s right. Josh cares for you.”

“You’re all being silly,” Adie replied. “He’s a minister. I don’t even go to church.”

“You could,” Pearl said.

“No.”

“Why not?” Bessie asked.

“Come with us on Sunday.” Mary added, “I’m going to sing.”

Adie crossed her arms. “I don’t like church.”

“I do,” Pearl murmured. “I miss it.”

Adie didn’t know what to think. Of all the women in the room, Pearl had the most cause to be bitter. Her own father had shunned her. No one from Colfax Avenue Church, people Pearl counted as friends, had even sent a note.

Adie wrinkled her brow. “Why do you like church?”

“I just do,” she said.

Mary made a humming sound. “I like to sing.”

Caroline chuckled. “It’s a good thing you do! Reverend Blue can’t sing a note!”

Bessie and Mary tried to stifle their laughter, but it leaked through their lips and came out in guffaws. Pearl caught the bug, but Adie didn’t. She’d never heard Josh sing, but she was sure he had a fine voice.

After a joke about a donkey, she’d heard enough. “You’re being mean!”

Caroline dabbed at her eyes. “I think Josh would laugh, too.”

“So do I,” Bessie added.

Adie had never seen Mary look more excited. “It sounds like I’ve got a job to do.”

“Goodness, yes!” Caroline said.

Pearl sighed. “I wish I could go to Brick’s, but I’m huge now.”

Why would Pearl want to sit in church for two hours, even one? Reverend Honeycutt’s sermons had been as flat as a washboard. The times she’d listened, she’d felt like a shirt being pounded to get out the dirt. Josh’s sermons had to be different because he was a different man, but church was church.

Mary eyed her thoughtfully. “Try it, Adie. Come just once.”

“No!”

“Whatever you want,” Bessie said. “Aside from all that, we need to be thinking of Josh right now.”

“Yes,” Mary said. “He just lost his sister.”

Pearl folded her hands. “We should pray.”

All the women—except Adie—bowed their heads.

Pearl took the lead.
“Lord Jesus, Reverend Blue—Josh—is our friend. Tonight he’s grieving his sister. Please, Lord. Give him peace. Show him Your love and renew his hope for the future. Amen.”

Adie hoped God heard Pearl’s prayer, but she doubted it. She pictured Josh alone in his room, reading Emily’s pain-filled words by candlelight.

When Pearl yawned, the women stood.

Adie lifted Stephen from Caroline’s arms. After a chorus of “good nights,” she went down the hall and put him in his cradle. A faint glow in the window caught her eye and she went to the glass. Looking down, she saw a circle of light and knew Josh was on the porch, reading the journal alone.