It could not be denied. She was, quite irresponsibly, in love with Quinn.
Nora had somehow become a different woman. The combination of disaster, Annette’s death and secrets, and the laid-bare world she now saw had added a new layer to the old Nora Longstreet. Life wove complexities and consequences into threads she hadn’t seen before. Her world had expanded, deepened, and her emotions had undergone the same transformation. She needed time, space and interactions with people to help her work through it all.
All she had were relatives, prayer, confines and the poor distraction of making a dozen or so rag dolls.
It was nowhere near enough.
Her prayers for a chance to get out from under the stifling supervision of her parents were answered, oddly enough, by Major Simon. Word had reached him, evidently through her father, that the supplies he’d given her had been made into dolls that were now ready. As such, he’d sent a young officer to oversee a trip to Grace House so that she could meet with Reverend Bauers to see about their distribution. She would much rather have been escorted to Dolores Park itself, but she knew that to be unlikely. Still, she hoped Reverend Bauers might know more about someone called the Midnight Messenger. For several weeks now, Papa had brought home tall tales of blankets, medicines, foods and such that had been snatched from the hands of marketeers and delivered to those in need. How this dark hero managed to slip in and out performing such deeds of bravery and compassion without anyone discovering his identity amazed her. She imagined he worked somehow with Quinn’s posts, and that pleased her immensely. This hero sounded amazing enough, even if Papa’s talent for exaggeration did leave some room for doubt.
“I think Simon’s behind it,” Papa had told her last night after seeing her eyes go wide with the latest recounting. “Finding a way to expand the relief efforts outside of the boundaries the army has set for him. He’s denying it at every turn, but there’s something behind the man’s eyes. It’s a pity you won’t see him today. I suspect you’d be able to charm the truth out of him.”
Whether or not Albert Simon was involved, Nora was grateful for the major’s latest heroic act: getting her out of the house. She was utterly delighted to climb into the army cart with her basket of dolls.
“Marvelous!” Reverend Bauers exclaimed upon her arrival at Grace House. “I have missed you greatly, Miss Longstreet.” He gave Nora a hearty kiss on the cheek as if she were his granddaughter. It was a pity the man had no family of his own. Then again, perhaps God had granted him a whole neighborhood as his family precisely because his heart was large enough for the task. “There has been so much commotion about lately. Politics and accusation and midnight deliveries. It is a sorry thing that no one here has any appetite for discussing adventures. I’ve been starved for good conversation.”
He took one look at the very dutiful-looking private who stood by the cart as if his career hung in the balance. “The good major’s not told you to stay the entire visit, has he?”
“Yes, sir.”
Bauers waved him off as if he were an insect. “Glory, how wasteful that man can be. Surely there are more important things to be doing these days than guarding a young woman in a house of worship. Go find yourself something to eat in the kitchen and tell Major Simon I wouldn’t hear of your staying and shall return Miss Longstreet safe and sound myself. Tell him I insisted.” He gave the private a wink. “My boss has more authority than even his.”
When the private hesitated, Bauers nearly bellowed, “Off with you, then!” and chuckled when the young man fairly scrambled in the direction of the kitchen.
“I’ve no mind to be supervised,” Bauers said, tucking Nora’s basket into one arm and her hand into his other elbow. “Nor, I gather, do you. Captured our good major’s attentions, have you?”
“I fear it’s more the work of Mama and Papa than anything I’ve done. I hardly need to add two words to their efforts. I’ve not had much opportunity to do anything. Mama and Papa have kept me under lock and key since…” She stopped herself, realizing she’d said too much already.
“Since what?”
She shook her head. How could she heap more shame on to Aunt Julia and Uncle Lawrence by telling a man of God what Annette had done? Then again, this man of God was not the sanctimonious Reverend Mansfield. She couldn’t help thinking Reverend Bauers probably would have helped Annette and Eric if they’d come to him. Here, out of Aunt Julia’s parlor, with all Bauers knew, she could at least speak freely and sort out her thoughts. Hadn’t she just prayed for some help in dealing with the storm swirling around inside her?
“It is a long and private story, Reverend. But perhaps it is best that I talk to you about it.”
“Let me attend to a quick matter, and then we’ll have tea sent into the study,” Bauers said. “We can talk for as long as you’d like.”
Quinn was asleep when he felt his mother push at his shoulder. As he pulled his aching body upright on the bed, she handed him a note. “Come to Grace House?” he yawned aloud, looking up at her.
“Don’t you be lookin’ at me, boy,” Ma said sharply. “No one tells me anything.” She wasn’t at all pleased, and she had good reason. Notes and messages and generally suspicious behavior had been the norm for Quinn for weeks now, and when she’d see him—which wasn’t often—she’d look at him with disappointment and anger. Quinn knew she thought he was up to twelve kinds of no good, and it pained him to let her think the worst of him.
Hurry up the day, Lord, Quinn prayed as he avoided Ma’s glare. I’m tired of waiting for everyone to know what I’m up to. After a particularly close call the other night, Quinn had begun to say prayers for his safety nightly and had asked Reverend Bauers to do the same. Bauers knew he was the Messenger and was storing additional supplies at Grace House for him, but even Bauers didn’t know how far things had gone.
“It’ll be all right, Ma.” It was a poor excuse for a response, but Quinn had no other. “Just a little while longer.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Isn’t it funny how those same words come out of every mouth these days. If I go to my grave never hearing again about how everythin’s coming soon or on its way or in just a while, I’ll die a happy woman.”
Quinn pulled on his boots and kissed his mother on the cheek. “Just mind it’s not that grave that’s coming soon. I need you.”
Her gaze softened. “Aye, that you do. There’ll be no rest for me until I see you off and settled with a family of your own. And high time it is for that, too. Not that anyone can make plans for any kind of future while we’re here.” She waved her arm around the shack while she pushed out a disgusted breath. “Oh, for a real roof over my head again.”
Quinn grabbed his hat and two of the biscuits that sat on a tin plate by the door. “I’d say soon, but you might cuff me.”
“If you were goin’ anywhere else but Grace House, I just might, but for the size of ye.”
These days Quinn actually had enough money to occasionally ride the streetcars, so he arrived at Grace House in one-third the time it would have taken to walk the trip. Bauers met him at the door with an assessing stare. “It’s as bad as I thought,” he remarked, crossing his arms over his chest. “How much have you slept this week?”
“Just enough.”
“You can’t keep this up for much longer. You know that, don’t you? Exhausted men make foolish mistakes.” They walked into the hallway toward Bauers’s study. “Simon pushes too hard, I think.”
“He’s enough of his own worries. I’ll be fine, Reverend. I doubt it’ll be much longer.”
“Until what?” The reverend regarded him with a narrowed eye. Bauers was clever enough to sense he hadn’t been told the whole story. He might have worried less if he knew the entirety of the Messenger plan, but that wasn’t safe. Quinn had already decided only he and Major Simon would know all the elements of how the goods found their way to refugees. Everyone else got only pieces.
“Now, you know better than to ask me that.” The c
onstant evasion was wearing on Quinn, tired as he was.
Bauers’s worried look mirrored Ma’s. “I’ll just have to content myself with a safer question, such as, can you stay an hour or so?”
“I can.” Bauers must have had some request of him to send the note. “What did you need?”
“It’s not I that’s needing. It’s you. When was the last time you’ve spent more than two minutes in prayer, man?”
“You’d be surprised. They might be short prayers, but there’s heaps of ’em every day.”
“The chapel is a healing place to be, Quinn. I want you to spend some time there. I want you to know you’re right with God while you walk this perilously thin line. And don’t think I don’t suspect just how thin it is.”
Quinn had seen Reverend Bauers force folks into the chapel before. Bauers had actually barred the door behind him once when he went on the one and only drinking binge of his youth, and he didn’t doubt the good reverend would do it again if he felt it necessary. Truth was, he did need to pray. He needed to pour out his hopes and fears to his Father in Heaven. Right now the thought of an hour in the chapel’s cool, peaceful darkness seemed like the only thing that would keep him going. Quinn smiled at the wise old man. “How is it you always know what I need?”
Reverend Bauers smiled. “I listen to the One who really does know what you need.”
“You won’t have to bar me in this time. I know where I need to be.”
“You know—” the reverend’s smile broadened into a look of fatherly pride “—I believe you do. What a man of faith you’ve become, Quinn. I couldn’t be more proud of you.” He punctuated his smile with a wink. “But I’ll still come check on you in half an hour. The spirit may be willing, but I suspect the flesh may fall asleep, at the rate you’ve been running.”
Quinn could only return the smile as he walked off toward the chapel, knowing he was indeed headed in the right direction. Twenty minutes later, with a world of weight lifted off his shoulders, Quinn turned at the opening of the chapel door behind him to find the most beautiful reassurance God had ever sent.
Chapter Twenty-Two
How he’d gotten Quinn inside Grace House without her knowing, Nora couldn’t guess. But when Reverend Bauers pushed open the door to the chapel and the wedge of soft light revealed that head of sandy hair bent over the front pew, Nora’s heart tumbled. When he turned and looked at her, his gold eyes shining their surprise, the connection was as powerful—and unsettling—as it had been that first day at the ceremony.
She somehow managed a quick glance back at Reverend Bauers, who merely offered the most knowing of grins and pulled the door shut behind her.
Quinn stood. The chapel was so small that even though they were on opposite sides of the room, she could hear him clearly when he whispered, “You’re here.” The grateful amazement in his voice unraveled something in her chest. Something she’d been clutching tightly but now couldn’t hope to contain.
“I’ve been here for most of the afternoon,” she said, wondering how long he’d been here and exactly how much planning Bauers had done.
Quinn laughed softly and shook his head. “I wonder if God realizes how devious our good reverend can be.”
She laughed herself. “I believe He does, and makes good use of it besides.”
He looked as if he were a thirsty man drinking in the sight of her. She felt the same sensation—the very sight of him soothed her. Her heart was at once both pounding and wonderfully settled.
“Glory, but I’ve missed you,” he said, crossing the distance between them. “I haven’t slept a whole night in forever, but every time I close my eyes, I see you.”
She knew now what drove Annette, for if he told her to take his hand and run away at this moment, Nora would have done it. “I…Quinn, I’m frightened.” And she was. This thing between them seemed so much stronger than she could control. And so much of her didn’t want to control it.
He took another step toward her. “We’ll be together. I know it, now more than ever.”
He closed the distance and reached up one hand to brush a thumb across her cheek. “If I tell you that in a little while, if you just keep your fight alive, there will be a way, will you believe me?” He feathered his fingers along the side of her hair, and she reached up to hold that hand against her face, treasuring his touch. She could believe there was a way. That tiny spark of determination leapt from his fingers and lit the fire waiting inside her.
“Yes.” And she did want to. With a power she didn’t know her heart possessed. Without another thought, Nora threw herself into his embrace. His arms were warm and strong and she knew they could hold the world at bay.
She felt him shudder at the contact and knew it sealed for him what it had sealed for her: their fate. Only it felt more like stepping into a wonderful, adventurous future God had yet to reveal.
She kissed him. The gentle kiss went through him like cannon fire, shaking him so deeply he could never hope to describe it. All the doubt, the envy, the worry fell away in the heady bliss of knowing she was his. He sighed and wrapped his arms more tightly around her. Nora Longstreet was in his arms. It was beyond imagination, and then again, it seemed as if it could never have been otherwise. She was so perfect within his embrace, so absolutely, wonderfully near him, that all his efforts to return the kiss gently were lost. It was not a gentle kiss. Fierce was the wrong word for it—although it seemed to wield the power of the universe. Passionate was too coarse a term. His meager education failed him any vocabulary save the thought that pounded throughout his body like a heartbeat: I love her.
The vitality she’d lost roared back into her eyes. When she threw her arms around his neck, he picked her up and spun her for the sheer happiness of it all. He kissed her again, just because he could. He could fuel a hundred Midnight Messenger missions on the surge it gave him.
“I’ve been so worried about you,” she said when they finally pulled away to sit breathlessly in the pew, his fingers threaded between hers. He couldn’t stop his thumb from tracing the back of her hand. “There seems to be so much going on. Papa has been bringing home the most incredible stories.”
“Really?” Quinn worked hard to hide his amusement, pretty sure where this was heading.
“This Messenger fellow, he’s filling requests from your posts, isn’t he? You must know who he is. That might become very dangerous for you. He’s made some people very angry, Papa says.”
You’ve no idea how dangerous or how angry, Quinn thought. He hung on to the decision not to tell her, even though the spark in her eyes was making him work hard to do so. She would be so astounded once she knew. And then there was the very tempting prospect that revealing his role as the Messenger might raise his standing in her parents’ eyes. Pleasing as that was, it came at too high a cost. If he revealed himself, even to only Nora and her family, it ran the risk of the secret getting out. He’d lose every advantage anonymity gave him, not to mention placing them at risk.
As Nora recounted a few of the stories she’d heard, Quinn grew shocked at the amazing deliveries folks credited to the Midnight Messenger. Exaggeration had stretched the truth far and wide in camp gossip. His heart was so full at the moment, however, that he felt capable of the astounding feats she listed. “He is a very clever man with some powerful helpers—or so I’m told,” he offered. “I don’t know that much.”
“He uses your posts.” She looked up at him with admiring eyes and he thought himself the most blessed man on earth. “Doesn’t that make you feel wonderful, to know your idea is doing so much good?”
“You use my posts, too, for your dolls. And so do other people who send help. I only make sure folks know what people need. People are mostly good if you give them the chance. I just give them that chance.”
She frowned. “People are worse and worse from what Papa says. You’d think I was in braids again from the way he and Mama watch me. I know it’s just everything that has happened making them so cautiou
s, but I can’t bear it sometimes. There are as many wonderful things out here as there are bad. How is it I can feel so much life when they seem to be surrounded by fear?” She tightened her hand against his. “Honestly, I don’t know how I shall ever manage to see you again soon enough.”
He touched her cheek. “I am very clever, you know. And God’s given me a very resourceful partner in our good reverend.” The mission bells rung four, and he knew their time was close to over. “I suspect we’ll find a way,” he said, pulling her up to standing. They walked hand in hand to the back of the chapel.
“Reverend Bauers would say this is a time for God to be mighty.”
He smiled. “He’d be right.”
When they’d reached the small cross hung in a nook by the chapel’s rear door, Nora took both his hands and held them fast. When she bowed her head, the moment felt rich and deep. One of the few times in Quinn’s life he felt the word “holy” truly applied.
“Father God, protect this man.” Quinn closed his eyes, feeling the closeness of her prayer as if God’s hand had indeed rested on his shoulders. “Be gracious and mighty to us as we try and work our way through these times. Grant us wisdom and courage. Thank You so very much for how You’ve brought us together, for saving us from dangers. I’m glad You know my heart, Lord, for it’s too full to find words. Be with us, go before us, keep us in Your mighty protection until we’re together again. Amen.”
A knock came on the chapel door, and Reverend Bauers leaned into the room. “It’s time to fetch you back, my dear. I do hope you’ve given him the encouragement he needs.”
Quinn nodded, sure he must look beyond smitten. No doubt it’d be a week before he could wipe the grin from his face.
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