The Preacher’s Daughter

by Cheryl St. John

  She needed a protector, though, and he saw himself as that person. He definitely wasn’t the worst man she could end up with. He would respect and honor her the way she deserved, the way her father would approve of. He could take care of her and make a home for her.

  At the thought of Lorabeth in this home with him, of them eating meals together in the kitchen, of her playing a piano in the parlor, a wondrous hope bloomed.

  He could buy her a piano for the parlor.

  The firelight cast one side of her lovely face in shadow, and he leaned forward to place his knuckles under her chin and turn so he could see her eyes. She was lovely. The most angelic-looking woman he’d ever known.

  They couldn’t go on the way they had been, because he couldn’t trust himself. And he couldn’t back away. Ben could become worthy of her if he tried hard enough. There had been changes taking place in him ever since he’d met her. Changes for the good. If he was as unacceptable as he’d always believed, she wouldn’t be so drawn to him. What was it about her that made him a better person?

  “You really believe I’m the answer to your prayers?”

  She nodded. “I’ve known it for some time.”

  He already knew she was the perfect woman for him. “Then I’ll talk to your father tomorrow.”

  A joyful glow touched her face. Her smile reached his heart. “Oh, Benjamin, you will? You truly will?”

  He nodded.

  Her smile dimmed. She leaned toward him and grasped the front of his shirt. “He must approve of you, Benjamin! He has to!”

  He didn’t know what to say to that. He’d never thought about it. Never faced a father whose daughter he wanted to marry. He was respected in Newton, was well able to care for her. Unless the man could see into his past or miraculously knew of the shame of his birth, Reverend Holdridge didn’t have any reason to deny Ben.

  Lorabeth’s desperation didn’t have much basis for Ben. Not because he was a great catch, by any means, but because she could have her choice of any man she wanted.

  A sick feeling dropped into his belly. What if the reverend didn’t approve?

  He couldn’t think on that.

  “It will be all right,” he told her.

  “You don’t know him the way I do,” she said. “He expects perfection in all things.”

  He took hold of both her arms by her elbows. “What is the worst thing that could happen?”

  She blinked. “That he wouldn’t approve of you?”

  “That he thinks I’m an unsuitable mate for you. What then?”

  She studied him without a reply.

  “Would we say, ‘Well never mind then’ and forget about it?”

  “No!” She shook her head.

  “What then? What if he hates me?”

  “He doesn’t hate you.”

  “Suppose.”

  He could tell she was thinking it over, and he knew the moment she came to the realization he’d hoped for. “I would marry you anyway. That is if you wanted me to. And we would have another preacher marry us.”

  Overwhelming emotion rose up, and Ben had to take a deep breath in order to talk. “Okay. The worst thing that could happen is that you would have to choose to defy your father. Could you do that, Lorabeth?”

  She raised a hand to rest along his jaw and her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she replied, “I would.”

  He urged her closer and kissed her gently, with a new expectation and level of excitement. Lorabeth wanted to marry him. This beautiful innocent perfect woman.

  This house would truly be a home again. He would be a good husband. He would protect and love her.

  “I’d better get you back now, so you can get a good night’s sleep and be fresh for tomorrow.”

  “I don’t need much sleep,” she told him. “I’ll be praying tonight.”

  He got up and took her hand to help her stand. Couldn’t hurt to have a wife with so much fervor when she prayed, could it? He found her shawl and banked the fire.

  If Ellie was asleep when he took Lorabeth home, he would wake her. She would be the first to hear his plans.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lorabeth played the piano with an extra flourish the following morning. She planned to do everything she could to be on her father’s good side that day.

  She had told Benjamin the truth. She wanted her father’s blessing more than she could say, but she wanted Benjamin as her husband even more. It would break her heart not to remain in the reverend’s good graces, but she would make a new life. There were many people who cared for her.

  When Benjamin had arrived that morning, her stomach fluttered at the sight of him, broad-shouldered and tall, as he entered the building and strode to the pew which was as yet unoccupied.

  She’d met his eyes across the room, and they shared a private look, a look that conjured up the heat and sensations of the night before. Lorabeth’s body tingled remembering the way he made her feel with his kisses and touches.

  And he would make her his wife. Soon. She would know all the mysteries and pleasures of being a woman then. She would taste life and know it was good.

  Benjamin turned and greeted Kate Jenkins and her son, J.J., then took a seat. It was only a minute or so later that the rest of the Chaneys filed into the church.

  The congregation sang and Lorabeth’s father took the offering, then preached on David defeating the giant in his life. The giants they faced today were sin and corruption, he told them, but Lorabeth was too distracted to pay much attention.

  As the service ended, Simon turned to her. “We’re having dinner together.”

  She smiled. “Yes.”

  “I miss you, Lorabeth.”

  She hugged him. “I miss you, too. This will be fun. I can’t wait for you to get to know the Chaneys and see the fun they have. The afternoon promises to be warm, so Dr. Chaney and Benjamin can show you how to play horseshoes.”

  “I’ve heard the other boys talk about playing. Do you know how?”

  She frowned now that she thought about it. “Only the men throw horseshoes.”

  “Suppose Father will object?”

  “It truly doesn’t edify, but it sure looks fun,” she answered. “Maybe he’ll stay occupied long enough for you to give it a try.”

  Simon grinned.

  “I’ll be helping Ellie with the meal and the children,” she told him. “I want to show Father I’m not remiss in my duties. He must be pleased by what he sees today.”

  The whole time Lorabeth removed the jackets from the potatoes that had baked while they were gone and stirred together potato salad, she wanted to drop what she was doing and run to watch for her father to arrive. Because she wanted him to know she took her duties here seriously, she stayed put. She would hear the doorbell, she reminded herself.

  When it rang, she dropped the spoon she was using to stir the creamed peas.

  Ellie looked up from slicing a ham to give her a knowing glance. “You’re as jittery as a long-tailed cat under a rocking chair. Are you upset that I asked your family to dinner?”

  “No, I’m delighted. Just a little nervous. I want Father to be pleased.”

  “Well, calm down, dear. Go ahead and join them if it helps you feel better.”

  “No, I need to be in here helping you. Dinner will be served in a few more minutes and I’ll see what’s going on then.”

  Lorabeth avoided Ellie’s delighted gaze and used some of the squash a patient had given Dr. Chaney to make a casserole while Ellie sliced fresh bread. She wanted to ask if Benjamin had told her their news, but she didn’t want to take the privilege from Benjamin if he hadn’t. She should have asked him.

  Once the table was set, Ellie sent Lorabeth to call people. She found the girls in their room playing baby dolls, scooted them downstairs, then located the boys and finally found the men in Caleb’s study. Her father’s somber presence in his pressed black suit seemed out of place in this house where laughter rang and children played. He was sitting on one
of the leather side chairs, his expression unreadable.

  “Dinner is ready,” she said, wishing for a moment to speak alone with Simon.

  Dr. Chaney gestured for Lorabeth and her father to go before him. The men followed her, and Ellie showed the reverend to a seat beside her and placed Simon next to Flynn. The boys knew each other from school, and Flynn grinned amiably at his dinner companion.

  It was the Chaney family’s habit to bow their heads and wait while Caleb said grace, and this day was no different. Lorabeth was delighted for her father to observe how the children automatically waited for the prayer.

  After the amen, the quiet was immediately broken as Lillith asked if there were green beans and Nate exclaimed over the bowl of potato salad.

  Lorabeth sat with her hands folded in her lap, glancing from her father to each child who piped up. David said something to Nate, and the two of them chuckled. No one had ever spoken without permission at the reverend’s dinner table.

  Ambrose showed no expression, however, silently taking the platter of meat as it passed and spearing a slice.

  “Lorabeth?” Benjamin had taken to sitting beside her on Sundays, so he was the one offering her creamed peas.

  “Oh.” She took the bowl and added a spoonful to her empty plate. She passed the dish on to Simon. He met her eyes and she saw the same dawning awareness that she’d experienced her first meal at this table.

  Mealtime was not a somber occasion nor a time for children to be paralyzed for fear of making a mistake. Dinner was for sharing, an occasion when family members talked about their week, their lives, and enjoyed each other’s company.

  Her father cut his ham into same-size pieces and buttered a roll.

  From beside him, Ellie’s sharp-eyed gaze traveled from Benjamin to Lorabeth. “I enjoyed the sermon this morning,” she told the reverend.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Chaney.”

  “Do you work all week on a message like that?” she asked.

  “I have my messages planned out a month in advance.”

  “How interesting.” She offered him salt and pepper. “I’m so glad you could join us today. We’ve been wanting to have you and Simon over for a long time.”

  “It is our pleasure, Mrs. Chaney.”

  “Your daughter has been such a blessing to this family,” she told him. “I don’t know what we would do without her.”

  The statement held a double meaning for Lorabeth, as though Ellie suspected that doing without her might be a future possibility. She met Lorabeth’s gaze and her eyes held a twinkle.

  “Idleness has never been Lorabeth’s downfall,” the reverend replied. Which left a question remaining in Lorabeth’s mind that he did believe she had a downfall.

  “My brother Benjamin is a hard worker, too,” Ellie added. “He earned only the highest grades at the university.”

  Lorabeth’s father nodded. “That is admirable.”

  “He was my husband’s assistant every afternoon even when he was going to school here in Newton,” she went on.

  Caleb gave his wife a questioning look at that comment.

  Lorabeth sensed Benjamin’s discomfort with the topic.

  “I help my dad now,” Nate said. “I sterilize his instruments and make sure his bag is ready in case of a ’mergency.”

  “And a fine job you do,” Caleb told his son. The meal was about halfway through. “We won’t have many Sundays warm enough to play outdoors,” he added. “What will it be today without Nana and Papa?”

  “I thought the girls and I would work on our knitting,” Ellie said. “That will leave you fellas to entertain yourselves.”

  “How about horseshoes?” David asked with a bright-eyed expression. “Teams. An’ Flynn can be on my team.”

  Flynn was the best horseshoe player in the family, rarely ever missing the stake.

  “That sounds about right,” Caleb said. “Reverend, how’s your horseshoe arm?”

  Lorabeth’s father hadn’t spoken or smiled once during the meal so far, and at the direct address he laid down his fork.

  Lorabeth’s heart began a jittery beat that made her head light. She, too, laid down her fork and wiped her lips on her napkin. She sought out Simon and their gazes met across the table. Was this where he’d admonish that their day and their talk and games were all folly and not respectful of the Sabbath? Would she be embarrassed in front of everyone? Would she be forced to make a choice she didn’t want to make?

  Lorabeth’s last bite of ham stuck in her throat like a rock.

  Ambrose Holdridge leveled his gaze on Caleb and cleared his throat.

  “I was hopin’ the reverend would go for a ride with me.” Ben’s suggestion drew all eyes. His palms were already sweating. “I’d appreciate some of your time, sir.”

  “Certainly, young man. My calling is to be available to my flock.”

  “Well, that’s settled then.” Ellie gave Ben a satisfied smile and offered the reverend another roll.

  His sister had been casting impatient looks from Ben to Lorabeth throughout the meal. She’d been ecstatic when he’d told her of his plans to ask the reverend’s blessing on a marriage between him and Lorabeth. Nobody knew him better than Ellie, so she knew how nervous he was right now.

  By the time they’d eaten apple pie and had coffee, Ben’s heart was racing. He’d never spoken to the reverend in private. They had nothing in common, save Lorabeth. The man had to know what was on Ben’s mind. But his stoic expression never changed enough to tell the difference between curiosity or anger, so it was impossible to guess what he was thinking.

  Why had it suddenly become so important that the man approve of him? Lorabeth said she would marry him regardless. Because her father’s blessing was important to her.

  Without a word, Lorabeth stood and cleared plates and glasses from the table. Her occasional surreptitious glances clued Ben that she was even more wary than he of her father’s reactions.

  He got Reverend Holdridge’s coat from the tree in the foyer and shrugged into his own. He led him out of doors, Buddy Lee mewling at their heels, and to the buggy he’d brought that day. “I’d like to show you somethin’. Won’t take long.”

  “Very well.”

  Ben directed the horses toward his house several blocks away and stopped the team on the street.

  “This is my house.”

  “Dr. Chaney used to live here as I recall.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The reverend climbed down and followed Ben up the brick walk to the porch. Lorabeth had been Ben’s first visitor. Ben noticed now how solitary the bentwood rocker appeared. He used his key to unlock the door and ushered Lorabeth’s father into the foyer.

  “I kept a few of the pieces of furniture that Caleb and Ellie left behind, but it looks a mite empty, I guess. The house has three fireplaces. Last year I bought a Glen-wood kitchen range. It’s back here.”

  The reverend followed, nodding at each item Ben pointed out on the way through. “Handsome home,” he said finally. “Not excessive or ostentatious like some I’ve visited.”

  “I like things simple,” Ben agreed. “I have another property, too, where I work. Here’s the range. Cast iron, and it has two hearths, see here? One in front and one on the left. Trim and hearths are nickel plate. Oven is airtight so it holds the heat and doesn’t get the kitchen all hot in the summer.”

  He was rambling, so he clamped his mouth shut.

  “A good range,” the man said with a nod.

  Ben showed him the other rooms, and finally they stood in the study. Ben couldn’t help but think of what had taken place between himself and this man’s daughter the night before. He was going to make that right, though. He hadn’t wasted a minute.

  Reverend Holdridge raised one eyebrow nearly to the center of his forehead. “What is on your mind, Benjamin?”

  Ben resisted the urge to clear his throat and risk sounding even more nervous. “I didn’t just bring you here to show you the kitchen range. I was,
uh, tryin’ to show you somethin’ about me. This place means a lot because it’s the first home I ever had.”

  The reverend didn’t reply.

  “The Chaneys—Caleb and his family, I mean—were the first people who ever cared about me and Ellie and Flynn.”

  “I don’t know how you came to the Chaney family.”

  How would the truth affect the good reverend’s opinion of him? A lie stuck in Ben’s craw. Last night he’d lain awake thinking about this, had dreamed that Ambrose Holdridge had whipped him with a cane. The memory of that dream wafted in his thoughts.

  “After our mother died, Flynn and I went to a foster home.” That was the truth, the honest-to-God truth. “Finally Ellie married Caleb and they took us in.” Ben had never told the true story to anyone—not even Lorabeth, the woman he intended to marry. He didn’t want to reveal it now, but if he wanted to marry this man’s daughter, the reverend needed to know. And Ben couldn’t be less than honest in this crucial situation.

  “I never knew my father,” he said. “Ellie and Flynn and I each have different fathers. Our mother didn’t care if we lived or died, and most of the time I thought death would’ve been a whole lot kinder.”

  Reverend Holdridge seemed to be taking in that information.

  The most critical question he’d ever asked of anyone formed and Ben worked to get it past his lips. “Are the circumstances of a man’s birth important to you?”

  The man’s mouth was set like a deep slash across his face. He didn’t have many lines in his skin, and Ben figured that was because he never smiled. If this was where he’d earn disapproval, Ben was prepared. If his family history was the deciding factor, did he want his blessing based on a lie?

  On the other hand, he didn’t intend to lose Lorabeth over something he couldn’t help. “If genealogy matters, I probably don’t hold much esteem in your eyes.”

  “Jesus’s genealogy is traced all the way back to Adam,” the reverend replied.

  Ben thought about that. “Wasn’t Rahab in there, somewhere? A harlot?”

  The reverend didn’t reply, but he looked at Ben with dawning appreciation.