“No!” The girl collapsed on the bank, her face in her hands. Her sobs tore at his heart.
Noah lifted the tiny boy by his feet as he once saw a father do at a church social when his young daughter had fallen into a lake. He waded toward the bank, whacking gently on the baby’s small back.
On shore, Noah laid the child over his forearm and continued smacking him. “Please, Lord. Don’t take this young boy. He has his whole life ahead of him.”
Water gushed from the boy’s mouth; then he lurched. He gagged and then retched. He clutched Noah’s arm and coughed up more water. When the worst had passed, Noah turned him over. Benny’s eyelids moved. He jerked, then gasped and uttered a strangled cry.
The girl jumped up and hurried to him, hope brimming from her damp eyes. “He ain’t dead?”
Goosebumps charged up Noah’s arm as tears moistened his eyes. The boy, no more than six months old, quieted and stared up at him with blue eyes that matched his sister’s. His wet brown hair clung to his head.
“C’mere, Benny.”
The boy heard his sister’s voice and lunged for her, wailing again to beat all.
Noah smiled, then lifted his gaze heavenward. This was as close to a miracle as he’d ever witnessed. “Thank You, Father. Blessed be Your name.”
Stirred up from the day’s events, Noah rode all night. The next morning, he put Rebel out to pasture then headed inside the house he shared with his mentor, Pete. He set his saddlebags across the back of a kitchen chair and glanced around the tidy room. It was good to be home again.
Pete shuffled in from the parlor. “Noah! Thought I heard someone in here, but I weren’t expectin’it’d be you.”
Noah hugged the older man. “I rode all night so I could get home sooner.”
Pete pulled out a chair and dropped into it. “Howd’ya like being a circuit rider?”
Needing time to think on his response, Noah walked over to the stove and felt the side of the coffeepot. He pulled two mugs from a shelf, poured the dark brew, then placed one cup in front of Pete and sat down, holding the other one. “It was all right. Met a lot of nice folks.”
Pete stared at him with an intense gaze. From the first day they’d met, Noah had never been able to pull the wool over the old man’s eyes. “What’re you not tellin’ me?”
Noah’s stomach clenched at the memory of the baby in the creek, but he told the story. “Mrs. Freedman is a widow. She’d been sick and was slow to recover, which was why the girl was doing the wash and caring for the baby. She offered to let me stay the night in her barn, but I was anxious to get home.” He rubbed his bristly jaw and eyed Pete, knowing his mentor would find this next piece of information humorous. “Just as I was fixin’ to head out, she told her girl to give me a piglet as a thank-you for saving Benny.”
The old man’s lips twitched, and his eyes danced. A chuckle rose up from deep within, making Pete’s shoulders bounce. “Wish I’da been there to see your face when they gave you that critter.”
Noah scowled. “It’s not funny. You know I can’t abide pork of any kind—dead or alive.”
“What’d’ya do with it? Turn it loose?”
He shook his head. “I might despise pigs, but I couldn’t turn the thing loose and let a wolf or coyote get it.” He looked into his mug and swirled the coffee. “I gave it to the next family I came across. They were mighty glad to have it.”
“How many of them folks that you stayed with fixed bacon or sausage for breakfast?”
“I don’t want to talk about that.” But there was something he needed to discuss. “I’m not sure that I’m cut out to be a traveling preacher.”
Pete sipped his coffee. “How come?”
He shrugged. “I think I’d rather be a minister in a small town where I could shepherd folks instead of just dropping a sermon and riding on, not knowing how folks are until I come around again the next month.” He’d traveled from one place to another as a kid and didn’t cotton to doing that again. He hadn’t lived in the same place more than a couple of years until he moved in with Pete. One thing was certain: With the exception of the pork he was often offered, he had eaten plenty of good home cooking on the circuit—something he and Pete often lacked.
“Well … that’s more’n you knew last month.”
Noah nodded. The older man had a way of putting things in perspective. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Pete stared at him for a few moments, and Noah wondered what he was thinking. “Got me a letter whilst you was gone.”
“Who from?”
“Thomas Taylor.”
Noah stiffened, tightening his hold on his cup, remembering the man from the town he wanted only to forget. “Why would Reverend Taylor write to you?”
“So you know him, huh?”
Noah nodded. Was Thomas Taylor still the minister in Lookout, or had he moved on? Was she still there?
“We’ve writ to each other for years. Thomas used to be a student of mine.”
Noah stood so fast that the chair fell back and banged against the floor. He picked it up and pushed it under the table. “How come you never told me about that?”
Pete shrugged one shoulder. “Didn’t see how it mattered.”
He gripped the back of the chair until his knuckles turned white. “It matters.”
His mentor shook his head. “What happened in Lookout is over and done with. You’ve gotta let go of the past, son. It’ll eat a hole in your belly and ruin your future.”
“I’ve tried. Nothing I do washes that town from my mind.”
“Just what was it that the town did to you?” Pete scratched his temple. “I don’t recollect you ever sayin’ much about it.”
Noah stared out the window. Of all the places he had lived, Lookout was the one that had left the worst taste in his mouth. It was the one place he’d never talk about much to Pete. He didn’t understand himself why the memories of that town bothered him so much, so how could he explain it to his friend?
“Well, anyhow. Thomas is takin’ a leave of absence. His wife’s ma is doin’ poorly, and they’re traveling over to Fort Worth to tend her. He didn’t know how long he’d be gone, so he asked me to take his place.”
Watching Rebel roll on his back in the grass of the pasture, Noah thought how lonely this place would be without Pete. And he’d have to eat his own cooking again. “You gonna do it?”
Pete didn’t respond, and when Noah heard the chair creak, he turned from the window. His friend stood with his hands on the back of the chair, staring at the table. Generally, that meant Pete was sorting something out in his head. Noah waited.
“Actually …” The old man looked up, his expression unreadable. “I prayed ‘bout it and feel you’re the one who’s s’posed to go.”
“Me! You can’t be serious.” Noah thought up a hundred reasons why he couldn’t go. At twenty-three, he was far too young and inexperienced to pastor a church, as much as he might desire to. And he wasn’t married. Nor had he been to seminary. The only credentials he had was the knowledge he’d gained from Pete’s years of teaching him the Bible, a mail-order certificate he’d received after completing a series of lessons on the scriptures, and years of hard living before he came to Christ.
“Serious as a prairie wildfire durin’ a drought.”
Noah ran his hand through his hair, remembering all the things that had happened in Lookout. “I can’t do it.”
He couldn’t go back there. Not when so many memories of the place still haunted his dreams. “I won’t.”
Pete harrumphed. “You just said you’d prefer to shepherd a flock in a town rather than ridin’ a circuit. Well, here’s your chance to do that.”
“No fair using my own words against me.”
“All I’m asking you t’do is pray about it. Will you do that?”
Noah stared at the scratched wooden floor and heaved a sigh. The old man didn’t know the meaning of playing fair.
Chapter 2
J
ack lay on her side, squinting out the window—directly at the mayor’s house. The bright light caused an ache deep in her head, but it wasn’t as bad now as it had been when she’d first fallen. Closing her eyes, she willed her blurry vision away. She’d been in bed for three days now, and neither the doctor nor her mother would let her get up. Sweat dampened her cheek where it lay against her arm. If she didn’t get out of this room soon, she’d go plumb loco.
Yesterday, between headaches, she’d spent the afternoon trying to think of a story angle, even though she hadn’t heard a peep up on the mayor’s roof. What could he be planning? Mayor Burke wanted Lookout to grow, despite the fact many of the town’s residents preferred to keep it small. She exhaled a sigh. She needed to get out of this bed.
Looking around the bedroom she shared with her two sisters, she pretended it was all hers. The pale floral wallpaper that the bedroom had been decorated in when she first moved in after Shannon O’Neil had married ten years ago had been stripped off and painted a soft green. Floral curtains had replaced the spring green ones, reminding her of a flower garden. But that had been many years ago, and now the room needed to be redone. Perhaps she’d talk to her ma about painting it lavender, even though the room had always been called “the green room.”
“Ugh!” She smacked the mattress. How could she be so bored that she was actually redoing her room?
She heard a noise, and then the bed creaked and the mattress tilted. A small body crashed into her back, sending sharp pain spiraling down her leg. Jack sucked in a breath. Her younger sister’s giggles softened the throbbing ache. Jack rolled over on her back, wincing at the stabbing in her head. “What are you doing in here, Emmie?”
The sweet urchin patted Jack’s stomach. “No no, sleep. The sun camed up.”
Jack stroked Emma’s wispy blond hair. “I’m sick—sort of.”
Emma scowled, her little brows dipping. She turned and reached toward Jack’s injured knee, which the doctor had wrapped in a bandage. Emma patted it. “Sissy gots a owee.”
Jack’s mother rushed in the door—as much as she rushed these days—relief evident when she spotted Emma. “What are you doing upstairs, young lady?”
Emma fell back against Jack’s arm. “Me sick.”
Her ma bit back a smile and crossed the room. She felt Emma’s head. “Oh my, if you’re so sick, I guess I should put you in your own bed.”
Emma elbowed Jack’s chest and shot upward to sit. “Me all better now.”
Jack grinned at her ma. “Me better now, too.”
Her mother shook her head and smiled, her light blue eyes twinkling. “What am I going to do with you two?”
Emma stood and bounced on the bed. Gritting her teeth, Jack turned her head so her mother wouldn’t see her pain.
“That’s enough, Miss Emma.” Ma picked up her youngest daughter and set her on the floor. “Let’s go back downstairs.” She patted Jack’s hip. “Do you need anything?”
“I’d like to go downstairs. I’m going batty being unable to move or see anyone.”
Her mother pressed her hand against her rounded stomach. “You know I can’t help you down, and Luke’s not home right now. Besides, the doctor said to stay abed for a week.”
Emma grabbed Abby’s doll off her bed and hugged it.
Jack placed her arms behind her head and sighed. “I know, but I’m bored to death up here. I need something to do.”
“Oh, that reminds me. I brought you something.” A smile twittered on Ma’s lips. She reached into her apron, pulled out a newspaper, then crossed her arms. “Now that you’re feeling better, would you mind explaining why you haven’t told me you were getting married?”
“What?” Confusion clouded her thoughts as she grasped for a memory of a wedding proposal. “I’m not getting married. What are you talking about?”
“Hmm … must be that head wound causing you to forget.” Ma tossed the paper on the bed. “By the way, the new minister is arriving sometime today. I’ve got to get the pies out of the oven and then see to his room.”
“Me get pie!” Emma shot out of the room, leaving the forgotten doll on the floor.
“Oh, no you don’t, little missy. Don’t you touch that stove.” With a fist pressed into the small of her back, Ma trudged out the door, leaving Jack in silence again.
She scooted up in the bed, trying to ignore the pain in every part of her body, and unfolded the newspaper. Her heart jolted, just as it had when she’d slid off the mayor’s roof. The skin on her face tightened, and the blood drained from her face as she read the headline: BILLY MORGAN SAVES FIANCéE’S LIFE.
Jack’s mouth went dry, and the words on the paper blurred as her hands started trembling. “No!”
The whole town would think she was marrying Billy Morgan.
Not in a thousand years.
Not if he were the only man in Texas.
She laid her head back and closed her eyes. This was the worst thing to happen to her since Butch Laird painted Jack is a liar all over the town’s buildings, ten years ago.
“How will I ever live this down?”
She heard Abby giggle and clomp up the stairs just before she entered the room with Tessa Morgan and Penny Dempsey. Abby leaned against the doorframe. “You got guests, Sissy.”
Tessa trounced in, a smile twittering on her lips. “You’re marrying my brother? When were you planning on telling me? You know that means we’ll be sisters, Jacqueline.”
Tessa twisted back and forth, obviously proud of herself. For years she had tried to get Jack to see Billy’s virtues, but as far as Jack was concerned, he didn’t have a single one. The only reason he turned her head at all was because of his handsome looks, with that white blond hair and those deep blue eyes. But good looks alone weren’t nearly enough to persuade her to marry him. She knew too much about him. Had seen his ornery side too many times.
Penny glanced at Tessa, then sent a sympathetic look at Jack. “Congratulations … I guess.”
“Penny!” Tessa whacked her friend on the arm. “You sound as if you’re sad. I think it’s perfectly wonderful that Jacqueline is marrying Billy.”
Jack groaned and bounced her head against the wall, stopping when a fist of pain clutched her head. She gazed at her sister, still lingering at the door, then lifted her finger. “Out, Abby.”
The child swung back and forth, her blue skirts swaying like a bell. “It’s my room, too.”
“Yes, but I have friends visiting, and I’m stuck in bed, so we have to stay in here. Please go downstairs.”
Abby stared at her for a moment, then noticed her doll on the floor. “Oh, Nellie. Did you fall out of bed like Sissy fell off that roof?” She rushed over, picked up Nellie, and hugged her.
“I didn’t fall.” Jack realized the ridiculousness of that statement the moment it left her mouth. “I just … uh … slipped.”
Abby’s eyes glimmered, and Jack knew she hadn’t fooled her five-year-old sister. Abby stuck out her tongue at Jack and flounced out the door.
Tessa shuddered and dropped onto Abby’s bed. “For heaven’s sake. I’m so glad I don’t have any little brothers or sisters. They can be such a pain in the neck.”
Jack twisted her lips to one side, knowing that’s probably exactly what Billy thought of Tessa. Her own siblings irritated her at times, but she loved them fiercely and would protect them for all she was worth. Tessa also annoyed her on many occasions, butshe and Penny were her best friends, the only women her age in town. Tessa would be disappointed, but Jack had to set the record straight. “I am not marrying Billy.”
Tessa’s surprised gaze darted to her. “But—but, the paper says you are.”
It was Jack’s turn to smirk. “You can’t believe everything you read in the newspaper.” While she tried hard to be accurate in the stories she wrote, she knew the paper’s editor, Jenny Evans, sometimes stretched the truth to make the news more interesting and to sell more papers.
“Billy will be heartbroken
. You know he’s in love with you.” Tessa’s bottom lip pushed out in a pout that didn’t look good on a grown woman. She tossed her curls over her shoulder. “I don’t know why you don’t like him. He’s comely, isn’t he, Penny?”
Penny was wise enough not to step in that quagmire, Jack was certain. Her friend’s eyes lit up unexpectedly. “I’ll tell you who’s truly handsome.”
“Who?” Jack hated that she leaned forward the same as Tessa.
“The new reverend.”
Tessa gasped. “You haven’t seen him. Why, he isn’t even in town yet. Besides, what’s so interesting about an old minister?”
“Did too. I saw him get off the stage and walk over to the Taylors’ house just before you came out of the store. He’s so tall.” Her dreamy gaze sparkled, and she touched Jack’s arm. “He’s even taller than your stepfather. And he certainly isn’t old.”
Luke was a good six feet two and the tallest man in town with the exception of Dan Howard. “What color is his hair?” Jack asked.
Penny shrugged. “I don’t know. He was wearing a hat. Dark brown. Maybe black. But I can tell you one thing: he’s young—and he was alone.”
Tessa perked up. “Just because he was alone doesn’t mean he’s not married. Was he wearing a ring?”
Penny shook her head. “No.” Her cheeks turned as pink as the tiny flowers on her gray dress. “At least I didn’t notice one.”
Tessa leaned forward, blue eyes blazing. “You looked, didn’t you?”
Her words were an accusation, not a question, Jack noticed.
“So what if I did?” Penny hiked her chin. “It’s not like there are many marriageable men our age in this dumpy town.” Penny leaned against the wall and studied her fingernails. “If it weren’t for you two, I’d go crazy. Half the time I wish we’d never moved here.”
“Well, if Jacqueline doesn’t want Billy, you can have him. One of you has to marry him. I don’t want anyone else for a sister-in-law.”
Finally a Bride (Texas Boardinghouse Brides 3) Page 2