Two seconds later, he squared his shoulders inside his coat and called himself a fool. Only Adie mattered tonight. Later he’d deal with his wayward thoughts. Hoping to appear relaxed, he leaned against the railing and got back to telling Adie about his sister. “Among other things, you and Emily are both alone.”
Her lip quivered.
“You both lost families, either by choice or cruelty.”
“You’re right.”
He barely heard the whisper. “I also know you’re brave and kind. So is Emily.”
She knotted her hands in her lap to hide the trembling. He couldn’t stand being her enemy. “I don’t know who hurt you, Adie. But I know God loves you.”
“God?” Her mouth gaped.
“He’s all-powerful. He’s—”
“You came out here to talk about God?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then why?”
“I could see Emily’s story upset you.”
“Just a little.”
It had been a lot, but he let her keep her dignity. “People judge a single woman with a child. I know, because I judged my sister. I’ll regret it to my dying day.”
“Don’t pity me, Reverend.”
She spat his title. If she didn’t respect it, he didn’t want her to use it. “Call me Josh.”
She glared at him.
“Why not?” he asked. “It’s my name.”
“All right,” she murmured. “I’ll call you Josh.”
He liked the hush of it, the way it hung between them like fog. In Boston, he’d avoided being alone with women. When he made calls, he’d brought his sister. He didn’t feel that need with Adie. They were equals.
“You remind me of Emily,” he said.
“How so?”
“In spite of being robbed of something, you both put others first. My sister worked in an orphanage. You take care of your boarders.”
“Of course I do. They’re my friends.”
“It’s more than that,” he said. “I hurt Emily, but she didn’t crawl into a hole and feel sorry for herself. She came west to make a new life. You’ve done the same, Adie. You’re both survivors.”
She put her hand to her mouth and coughed. “If you’ll excuse me, I should do the dishes.”
Josh had pressed her as far as he could. “I’ll help.”
She stood. “No, thank you.”
“Really, I’d like—”
“No,” she insisted. “You’re a paying guest.”
Josh knew about drawing lines. This one annoyed him. From what he’d observed, Adie worked harder than the Blue family servants. “Your other boarders help. So can I.”
She looked peeved. “Not tonight.”
“Then tomorrow.”
“Fine.” She stood and headed for the door. When she reached the threshold, she turned. Her shadow spoke to him in a hush. “I hope you find your sister.”
“So do I.”
She stepped into the house, leaving behind the scent of rosewater. Josh hadn’t smelled rosewater in years. It took him back to his mother’s sitting room where she’d read stories to Josh and Emily every night.
His sister felt close, or was it Adie’s presence he sensed? Josh didn’t know, but he had a confession to make. Deep down, he envied Adie Clarke. She had a home and a son, good friends and a belly that didn’t hurt. Tonight she’d sleep in a clean bed. Tomorrow she’d bake bread. In the past year, Josh had ridden in the rain, slept in muddy caves and eaten snake for supper. He lived with an ulcer and a craving for opium. Like the Apostle Paul, he’d learned how to abase and abound, how to live well or humbly depending on the Lord’s provision.
He wanted to say that he’d learned to be content in all things, Paul’s declaration to the Philippians, but he couldn’t make that claim. Tonight he felt a longing for the soft timbre of Adie’s voice. He liked her far more than was wise for a man destined to leave. With an emptiness he didn’t want to admit, he sat in the swing, bowed his head and prayed for Adie, Emily and all the women of Swan’s Nest, but especially for Adie.
Adie went to the kitchen, saw that her friends had done the dishes and headed to her room. She needed to hold her son to chase away thoughts of Emily Blue. As she climbed the stairs, she thought about Josh’s description of his sister and how he’d compared Adie to Emily, calling them both survivors. Maggie had called herself a survivor with pride. Adie would have described her just as Josh had described his sister. Her friend had overcome everything except death.
As Adie neared her bedroom, she heard a creak from down the hall. She turned and saw Pearl looking pale and afraid.
“Are you okay?” Adie asked.
“Can I speak with you?”
“Of course.” She went to her room with Pearl, lit the lamp and checked Stephen. His little chest rose and fell in a soothing rhythm. No colic tonight. Relieved, she turned to the bed where Pearl was lying on her side to ease the pressure on her back. She looked as round as the moon.
“I’m scared,” she said.
“Of what?”
“Giving birth.”
“You’ll do fine.” Adie sounded confident, but she knew the risks. So did Pearl.
“I want you to promise me something.”
Adie flashed to Maggie lying on soiled sheets. Ashen and weak, she’d made the same request as Pearl. She’d asked Adie for a promise. “What is it?”
“If something happens to me—”
“It won’t.”
“It could and we both know it.” Pearl sounded strong, even wise. “If I don’t survive the birth, I want you to give the baby to my father. I don’t want Frank to even see my child.”
Adie gripped her hand. “I promise.”
“My father’s a good man.”
Adie wasn’t so sure. Reverend Oliver had taken Dean’s word over his daughter’s. He struck her as stern, but Pearl loved him. “I’ll do whatever you ask.”
“Thank you.” Pearl tightened her grip. “I’m scared.”
“It’s natural.”
“There’s more,” she said. “Tonight at supper, I saw the reverend’s expression when he talked about his sister. He won’t stop until he finds her.”
Adie thought of Josh’s words on the porch. “You’re right.”
“As long as I’m in Denver, Frank won’t leave me alone. If I left—”
“Don’t even think about it.” Adie recalled her earliest days with Stephen. She’d had Maggie’s jewelry but no friends. No mother to take a turn rocking the colicky child. No husband to shoulder the load of food and shelter. “Being alone is harder than you know.”
Pearl rested her hand on her belly. “But if I left, no one would know me. I’d have some peace.”
“Maybe,” Adie said gently. “But you’d have other problems, like paying rent and buying food.” And living a lie.
Pearl sighed. “Do you think Frank would follow me?”
“I don’t know.”
“I hate it here.” Her voice wobbled. “People think the baby is my fault, but he forced me. He—” She clenched her teeth, but tears still rose to her eyes.
Adie gripped Pearl’s hand in understanding. Timothy Long had abused her in the Long family’s attic, but she’d escaped with her purity and a shred of pride. Thanks to Maggie Butler, she’d been given a fresh start. Pearl deserved the same chance. Adie flashed on the jewelry in the trunk. Maggie would have approved of giving Pearl a nest egg, but Adie couldn’t risk selling even a brooch. If the Butler family had hired a detective, pawnbrokers would be the first place he’d look for clues.
Pearl heaved a sigh. “Maybe I’ll write to my cousin. She might take me in.”
“Where is she?”
“Wyoming.” Pearl told Adie about Carrie Hart, the daughter of her mother’s sister. Carrie was about Pearl’s age. When her parents passed away last year, she’d chosen to stay in Cheyenne where she taught at Miss Marlowe’s School for Girls. Pearl hadn’t confided in Carrie, but they exchanged occasiona
l letters, and she knew her cousin missed having family close by.
Adie liked her. “Going to Wyoming might be smart.”
“Maybe.” Pearl bit her lip. “I’d still have to earn money somehow.”
“If someone could watch the baby, you could teach.”
“Or I could sew at home.”
Neither occupation would give Pearl security, but she’d have her dignity.
“Think about it,” Adie advised.
“I’ve been praying for months.” Pearl wrinkled her brows. “God isn’t answering.”
Adie knew the feeling.
“I believe, though.” Pearl wiggled to a sitting position. “And I like Reverend Blue. You have to admire a man who cares so much about his sister.”
“I suppose.”
“He’s handsome, too.”
Adie’s cheeks turned pink. “I didn’t notice.”
“Caroline did.” Pearl’s eyes twinkled. “She’s looking through her recipe book this very minute. She’s going to bake him a pie.”
The thought irked Adie beyond reason. With his weak stomach, Josh needed simple food, not a crust made from lard. Even more upsetting was the possibility that he’d like Caroline and her pie. What if he stayed in Denver? She thought of Caroline charming him and frowned. “I wish she wouldn’t do it.”
“Why not?”
“He doesn’t belong here.”
“I’m glad for it.” Pearl patted her belly. “I’m as big as a horse. I might as well eat like one.”
Adie smiled. “You don’t look anything like a horse. You’re beautiful.”
With her pale hair and blue eyes, porcelain cheeks and perfect nose, Pearl had the luster of her name. She also had tears in her eyes as she touched the hard roundness of the baby.
“I’m ruined, Adie. What man would want me now?”
“A very special one.”
“Do you really think there is such a man?”
“I do.”
For the second time that night, Adie had lied. She’d told Josh she hoped he found his sister. She did, but only if the woman wasn’t Maggie Butler. As for Pearl’s question, Adie doubted a man that special walked the earth.
Pearl yawned. “I’m off to bed.”
As the women stood and hugged, Adie felt Pearl’s belly and thought of Maggie. What would she say about Swan’s Nest? Adie hoped she’d be proud.
Thoughts of Stephen’s mother led to an awareness of the trunk. As soon as Pearl left, Adie looked at the walnut case with its brass lock. Did Maggie’s picture hold the answer to Josh’s search? Adie didn’t know and was afraid to find out. For now, the trunk would keep its secrets.
Chapter Six
Five days later, a noise in Adie’s garden woke Josh from a fitful sleep. Living among outlaws had made him wise to danger and he felt that prickle now. He pushed aside the blanket, dressed and strode down the hall to the back door.
A sweet fragrance made him wince. Caroline had baked another pie, her third this week. Josh had endured baking sprees before, but he’d never been caught under the same roof as the woman doing the baking. Not once in Boston had he felt even a spark of interest. He did now, though not for Caroline. It was Adie who filled his thoughts.
Two days ago, she’d been working in the garden. He’d stood by the carriage house, watching from afar as she arranged the tomato vines. He’d seen her lips moving and he’d smiled. Adie talked to her plants in the same tone she spoke to Stephen. She crooned to them. Josh didn’t think the plants felt a thing, but he did. Just looking at her made him feel sharper, more alive. More everything.
Being with Adie brought out Josh’s humanity in the best possible way. He enjoyed the way she took care of others, the way she’d cared for him when he was ill. Her independence, a trait he suspected had been honed by loss, made him want to shield her from life’s hurts. She stirred him up in a good way, but he hadn’t missed the obvious. The sooner he left Denver, the better off he’d be. Yesterday he’d visited several pawnshops, but he hadn’t quizzed the patrons of local saloons. He’d do it soon, though. Maybe tomorrow.
In the meantime, he wanted to know more about the noise in Adie’s garden. He went out the back door, heard thumping and strode toward the noise, pausing at the woodpile to arm himself with a split of wood. He believed in turning the other cheek but only for himself. If an intruder had plans to hurt Adie, he’d do it over Josh’s dead body.
Tense and wary, he rounded the house and saw a bulky shadow trampling Adie’s vegetables.
“Hey!” he shouted.
The man bolted for the street. Josh dropped the wood and sprinted after him. He chased the stranger to the end of the block, but he didn’t have the wind to catch him. Annoyed, he slowed to a walk, then headed back to the garden.
Moonlight revealed a methodical assault. The man had started in the corner, where he had kicked down the stakes supporting the tomatoes and trampled the vines. Next he’d flattened most of the cornstalks. The strawberries made Josh even angrier. He knew how much Adie liked strawberry jam. Red and ripe, they’d been ready for picking.
Looking at the mess, he felt a strong need for vengeance. Not only did Adie need the garden for food, but she loved it. He’d seen her on her knees, working the loamy earth with her small, pretty hands. At supper she talked about her squash and beans. The man who’d destroyed her garden had done it out of malice, and he’d done a good job.
Josh worshipped the God of mercy. He also revered the God of justice. Looking at the damage, he wanted to see Adie’s assailant—or the man who’d hired him—pay for his crime. Was Dean behind the vandalism? Josh’s neck hairs prickled. Unless he found a sign that Emily was in Denver, he had no reason to stay. He’d been considering where to go next, San Francisco or maybe Chicago. Tonight’s assault changed his priorities. He wouldn’t leave Swan’s Nest until the vandal was caught.
He looked again at the damage, then fetched a rake from the toolshed. He didn’t know much about gardening, but he could spare Adie the sight of the crushed vines.
After an hour, he’d swept the mess into a pile and had shoveled it into the compost heap. By the time he finished, the eastern sky had a lavender glow. Birds were chirping in the lush cottonwoods and he smelled the freshness of a Colorado dawn.
The slap of the back door broke into his thoughts. He turned and saw Adie walking to the carriage house where she’d milk Buttons. He dreaded telling her the bad news, but it had to be done. He put the tools in the shed, then went through a side door that led through the tack room to the main part of the building. Adie had her back to the door. She didn’t see him, nor had she heard his footsteps. Josh paused. Buttons could be trouble and he didn’t want to startle her.
Neither did he want to take his eyes off Adie. After a scratch and pat for the goat, she dropped to her knees at the animal’s side. Her dress, a faded calico with tiny flowers, made a circle on the floor. A high window sent a slice of dawn across her shoulders and neatly pinned hair. Her red hair…even restrained by pins, it looked as spirited as Adie.
When was the last time he’d appreciated the simple beauty of a woman? Maybe never. He’d prided himself on being above such things, but looking at Adie he saw God’s handiwork. She had a heart and soul, eyes that changed with her moods and a knack for being wise. The Lord himself had knit Adie in her mother’s womb and He’d done a fine job of it.
Even so, Josh couldn’t stand by the door and stare. It was unseemly, even rude. Buttons would have to cope. He cleared his throat. “Adie?”
Gasping, she pressed her hand against her chest and faced him. “You startled me!”
“Sorry.”
Her brows snapped together. “Is something wrong?”
He stepped closer so he wouldn’t have to shout. “Someone vandalized your garden.”
“My garden?”
He told her about the damage. “I stopped him before he could finish it off. You still have beans and squash.”
Her eyes burned. “
If Dean’s behind this—”
“I saw the man who did it,” Josh said. “He was too stout to be Dean, but he could have been paid.”
Adie rocked up from her knees. Josh stepped forward and offered his hand. As she took it, Buttons grabbed a mouthful of his shirt and pulled. Instinctively he stepped back, taking Adie with him. They ended up in a tangle with Buttons tearing his shirt. Adie stumbled into his arms. They were face to face, hands gripping each other’s elbows. When she gasped, he felt the breath of it.
They stepped back at the same time. Adie grabbed Buttons by the collar and pulled. “Stop that!” she said to the goat.
As Buttons bleated a complaint, Josh looked down at the rip in his shirt and chuckled. “That’s a first. I’ve been attacked by a goat.”
She scowled at the tear. “I’ll mend it for you.”
“Thanks.” When he left Denver, he’d have a reminder of Adie’s hands working a needle and thread. The thought warmed and saddened him at the same time.
Adie led the goat back to the milking spot. “I’ll finish with Buttons, then check the garden.”
As she dropped to her knees, Josh walked to the door to wait. Slouching against the frame, he took in her profile. She had to be frightened, but the fear didn’t show as she calmed Buttons and finished the milking. As her shoulders moved, he thought of her stumbling into his arms. Awareness had flashed in her eyes. He’d felt it, too, and he’d wondered again what it would be like to court her properly.
Had Adie wondered, as well? Guilt welled in his belly. He had no business thinking about a future with Adie Clarke. As soon as the vandal and his cohorts went to jail, Josh would leave Denver. Somewhere, Emily needed him.
Adie pushed to her feet. “I’m done.”
Josh opened the door. As she walked through it, her skirt dusted his boots and the sun reflected off the crown of her head. With the scent of cotton filling his nose, he waited while she walked to the house. She left the bucket on the first step, then returned to the carriage house. As she looked toward the garden, her eyes dimmed. “I better see the mess for myself.”
The Maverick Preacher Page 7