The Maverick Preacher (18 page)

“H
ow could you?” Adie cried. “Franklin Dean goes to that church!”

She and Josh were alone in the garden. The sun had set hours ago, leaving a distant moon and a sky full of stars. Adie had never felt so foolish in her life. After this afternoon, she’d dared to wonder if they had a future together. She’d fixed a special supper, complete with candied yams because she knew Josh liked them. She’d been as obvious as Caroline, glancing at him during the meal, passing the yams before he asked. After supper, he’d asked her to meet him in the garden.

Her heart had raced. She’d thought of wedding clothes and making promises as pure as white silk. She could handle going to church in Brick’s Saloon. Maybe God would find her there. After listening to Pearl’s excitement over Cheyenne, Adie had dared to hope for a new beginning for herself.

“God answered my prayers,” Pearl had said.

Maybe, but tonight he’d ignored Adie. She’d let her feelings for Josh run free and now it hurt to look at him. Even in the dark, his hair had a shine. She couldn’t see his irises, but she knew how blue they were.

“Why?” she said again. “Why can’t you just preach at Brick’s?”

“I can preach anywhere,” he said. “That’s the point. It doesn’t matter if I’m in a church or on a street corner.”

“I don’t understand.”

Josh took a step in her direction. She turned her back but couldn’t escape his voice. “I have to do what God’s called me to do. I’m sorry you’re hurt, Adie. I was worried you’d take it hard.”

“Hard!” She felt betrayed.

“I know you’re upset, but when I saw Horace, I knew I had to say yes.”

He’d already told her about seeing Dean’s driver. “Fine. Do what you want.”

“It’s not what I want,” he insisted. “I have to do what’s right.”

This was Josh, a man who would live his convictions no matter the cost. She knew what Emily’s death had done to him. It took courage to preach at a church that would remind him of Boston and who he’d been. She admired his bravery but didn’t share it. She’d been hurt and had no desire to go back to those bitter days. She turned and faced him. “Maybe this is for the best.”

“How so?”

She saw no point in being coy. “I care for you, Josh. But we don’t have a future.”

“Do you mean that?” He sounded incredulous.

She tried to nod, but her head wouldn’t move. “I don’t know what to think.”

“I do.”

Two steps brought him to her side. She saw purpose in his eyes, an intent made gentle by the most tender of feelings. He clasped her arms, then drew her closer until her eyelids fluttered shut. Their lips brushed once, twice, but not a third
time. He lifted his head and looked her in the eye, leaving her to wonder about their future but only for an instant. The answer cried from her heart if not her lips. She loved this man. She wanted to feed him and kiss him and bind up his wounds, except she couldn’t give him what he needed most—a woman who shared his faith.

He touched her hair. “I shouldn’t have done that, but I’m not sorry. I love you, Adie.”

She gasped.

“I do and God knows it. I can’t lie to myself or to Him. Neither will I hide my feelings from you.”

“Josh, I—”

He drew her into his arms, cupping her head and tucking her face into the crook of his neck. She felt his fingers on her hair, not in it, though she could imagine him undoing the strands as gently as he’d just undone her heart. The tension left her bones until she took a breath and smelled the starch of his collar. She tried to pull way, but his arms tightened around her back.

“I know you’re scared,” he murmured. “But you’re not a faithless woman. You’re not indifferent to the Lord. You’re angry. That tells me you care. Strangers don’t hurt us nearly as much as the people we love.”

He had a point. She’d grown to hate Timothy Long, but he’d charmed her before he’d cornered her in the attic. As a little girl, she’d admired Reverend Honeycutt. She’d prayed every night with the faith of the child she’d been. Adie wanted to cross back over that bridge, but she couldn’t stand the thought of forgiving her enemies. Neither could she endure the idea of being under the same roof as Franklin Dean. Christ died for the sins of mankind, but Adie felt no mercy.

She pushed back from Josh. “I’d have gone to Brick’s. Colfax Avenue Church is out of the question.”

“What’s the difference?”

“You
know
the difference!”

“It’s bricks and glass, that’s all.”

“It’s Franklin Dean.”

Josh’s stare matched hers, but it held no malice. “Will you at least think about it?”

“I don’t have to.” She crossed her arms. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“To me?”

“Yes.” She loved this man. If she couldn’t be a full partner to him, they were better off apart.

As he stepped closer, the scent of soap and wool filled her nose. Without touching her physically, his presence surrounded her like a tent. “You need to understand who I am, Adie. I meant what I said. I love you.”

“Don’t.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“But…” Her voice faded.

His stayed strong. “But what?”

I’m bitter and angry! God doesn’t care, not about me.
She blinked fast to hide the tears.

Josh gripped her shoulders. “I’m going after Dean with everything I’ve got. You’re going to own Swan’s Nest, and my cousin’s going to put him out of business. I have a job, too. On Sunday, I need to speak the truth. I’ll do it with love, but it’s going to get said.”

Adie gave a harsh laugh. “I almost want to be there.”

“Then come.”

The thought grabbed her and wouldn’t let go. Dean deserved to hang for what he’d done to Pearl. Seeing him castigated in church would be almost as good as a lynching. “All right,” she said bitterly. “I’ll go, but I’m sitting in the back.”

“You can sit wherever you’d like.”

“And I’m not speaking to anyone.”

“That’s fine.” Josh’s tone didn’t change, but she saw a softening around his mouth, then the curl of a smile. “As much as I’d like to start the courting right now, I’d better save it for later.”

Adie didn’t know what to think. On one hand, she was furious with him. On the other, she wanted to be kissed. Her confusion must have shown, because Josh lowered his chin, bringing his lips to her ear. “When the time’s right, Miss Clarke, I’m going to sweep you off your feet.”

He already had…. If only God would do the same. Adie wanted peace but didn’t know where to find it. A silent prayer formed in her mind.
Show me, Lord. Open my heart.

She felt nothing, but the sound of footsteps drew her gaze to the path from the house. She saw Mary hurrying in their direction. “Adie? Josh? Are you out here?”

“What’s wrong?” Adie called.

“Pearl’s water broke and the baby’s coming fast. Bessie says it’s breech.”

“Oh, no.” Adie thought of Maggie. The doctor who’d finally come said the baby hadn’t turned. He’d done it with his hands, but it hadn’t been easy.

“I’m going for Dr. Nichols.” Mary looked at Josh. “Pearl’s asking for her father. Will you get him?”

“Of course.”

Adie heard what hadn’t been said. Pearl could die. Josh squeezed her hand, then strode down the path. Mary followed him at a fast walk, but Adie froze in place. She didn’t want to be in the house. Pearl would scream and she’d hear it.

Mary whirled and faced her. “Adie, hurry up! Bessie needs rags and water. It’s your job to make sure she has them.”

Terrified, she ran after Mary, who gripped her hand. At the corner of the house, Mary veered to the street. Adie went through the back door and added wood to the stove. She pumped water and filled two kettles, listening all the time to
the creak of a rocking chair in Pearl’s room, directly over her head. It sounded like a blessedly typical night until a low moan mixed with the heat of the stove.

With a lamp in hand, Adie fled to Josh’s room where she stored old linens. He’d insisted on cleaning the room himself, so she hadn’t been in it since the night he’d arrived. Very little had changed. She saw his Bible on his nightstand and his clothes on hooks. The saddlebags sat in a corner, flat because he’d unpacked the contents as if he planned to stay forever. Adie needed to sort her thoughts, but she couldn’t do it now. Pearl needed her. She opened a trunk, removed muslin sheets and carried them to the kitchen. The moaning had stopped, so she went to Pearl’s room and knocked.

“Come in,” Bessie called.

Adie opened the door and smelled life. Not perfume or the aroma of bread, but sweat and work and pain. She looked at Pearl. “How are you doing?”

She forced a smile. “Good.”

Bessie patted her hand. “She’s doing just fine.”

Except her eyes were as round as coins and her fingers looked like bones clutching at the sheet. She stared at Adie as if she’d never see her again. “Bessie says the baby’s breech.”

“I heard.”

“The doctor will have to turn it.”

Adie fought tears.

“Don’t you dare cry!” Pearl scolded.

“I’m not.” Except her face cracked like a clay pot, and she started to cry.
Why, God? Why does this have to be so hard? Please help Pearl, Lord. Don’t let her die. Keep her baby safe.
Adie hadn’t prayed with such hope since being with Maggie. She barely recognized that she was doing it now.

Pearl started to pant. She gripped Adie’s hand and squeezed the blood out of it.

Please, Lord! Spare her this pain.

The panting slid into a low moan. Gripping her belly, Pearl writhed on the bed. The sight of her sent Adie back to Maggie’s bedroom in the Topeka boardinghouse. Her labor had lasted for hours, almost a full day. Adie loved babies, but she had no desire to
ever
go through this torment.

As the contraction passed, Pearl’s grip loosened to a touch. Bessie patted Adie’s shoulder. “I’ll send Caroline down for the water.”

As Adie stumbled to her feet, Pearl pulled herself higher on the pillows. “Is my father here yet?”

“Josh went for him.”

Pearl swallowed hard. “I need to see him.”

Last words, final goodbyes. Adie thought of Maggie’s journal and the last desperate scrawl. Someday she’d read it, but not for a long time. Feeling like a coward, she went back to the kitchen and checked the water. Caroline came down ten minutes later. Adie filled two pitchers to the brim. Her friend hugged her, then carried the pitchers upstairs.

Mary and Dr. Nichols arrived next. They went straight upstairs and didn’t come down. Five minutes later, Josh and Reverend Oliver came down the hall to the kitchen. Adie had just stoked the stove. Heat billowed everywhere, turning the room to a furnace.

Reverend Oliver, red-faced from the walk to Swan’s Nest, mopped his brow with his sleeve. “How is she?”

“She—” Adie’s voice broke. “She wants to see you.”

Tobias tramped up the stairs, leaving Adie alone with Josh. With her eyes blazing, she clenched her hands into fists. She wanted to hit something but settled for shouting at him. “I’ll
never
go to your church! Your God is cruel and mean and—” She burst into tears.

Josh pulled her into his arms, but she shoved him away.

“She’s dying!” Adie cried. “The baby’s breech and it’s tearing her apart. I can’t stand it. I can’t—” She broke into sobs. Only minutes later did she realize he’d pulled her close and her tears were soaking his shirt.

“Cry, Adie. It’s all right.”

At times like this, when his emotions ran hot and God seemed a hundred miles away, Josh sometimes ranted at the sky. Deep feelings weren’t a lack of faith and he didn’t feel guilty for having them. God understood tears and anger. He shared them.

Adie didn’t know it, but her sorrow put her in the arms of the Lord. Josh didn’t try to console her with words. He couldn’t. Neither did he know if Pearl would live or die. He only knew that God would see them through this long night, just as he’d seen Josh through his opium addiction and losing Emily. As a minister, he’d performed more funerals than weddings. He’d prayed with gut-shot outlaws who’d suffered for days, then cried out for mercy, died and arrived at heaven’s gate. Josh didn’t know why life had to be so hard, but he knew that Christ had walked this earth as a man. He’d felt every lash of the whip, the sting of the thorns.

“Let’s go outside,” he said to Adie.

She let him guide her to the porch, where the night air carried the scent of lilacs. As she sat in the chair farthest from the door, Josh pulled a second chair to her side. He didn’t know Adie’s thoughts, but he knew his own. Reaching for her hand, he silently prayed for Pearl, her baby and women everywhere who’d walked in Emily’s shoes.

Several minutes passed before they heard the creak of the door and Tobias joined them. Except for a hint of moonlight, the three of them were in the dark.

“How is she?” Josh asked.

Tobias lowered his tall body on to the swing. It creaked like his old bones. “It’s a hard birth.”