“Me?” Honor shook her head. “Oh, no, Mrs. Peters. I’m not qualified. Besides—”
“Don’t be so modest. You’ll do a wonderful job of keeping everything going here. Still—” Mrs. Peters tilted her head to one side. “We’ll need to find an older woman from our church to come here and stay while I’m away. It wouldn’t do for you to live here without a chaperone. Remember, Jethro and Elmer are both single men. And as soon as I find a suitable chaperone, I’ll be leaving on the next stage.” Mrs. Peters sent another little smile toward Honor. “Now, what was it you wanted to talk about, Miss McCall?”
If Honor had felt speechless before, now she was doubly so. She swallowed and cleared her throat. How could she tell them she was leaving town after this revelation? Jeth and his mother had never needed her more.
Her gaze traveled to the mess room door. The last time Honor had been in the pantry, she had noticed that their supply of beans and rice were low. She’d intended to remind Mrs. Peters to put those items on her grocery list. However, barrels of beans and rice weren’t important enough for a full-blown meeting with her employers. She would need to come up with something else. Then she remembered her Bible questions.
“I—I’ve been reading the Bible and have questions I would like to ask. Since both of you know a lot more about Scripture verses than I do, I thought you might be kind enough to help me.”
“Of course we’ll help you,” Jeth said. “But from the expression on your face when we sat down, I assumed you wanted to discuss something more pressing.” He eyed her carefully. “Honor, is something bothering you?”
Honor. He’d called her by her first name. She wanted to bask in the moment, but she felt their eyes on her. It was time to ask her questions. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of a single one.
Lucas arrived late for work at the saloon that evening, for the second time that week. He went directly to the kitchen and started washing dishes. Maybe Mr. Skipworth wouldn’t notice the time Lucas came in. But if he did—
Lucas looked down at the torn blue shirt he was wearing and the brown trousers covered with patches. They were the oldest, shabbiest clothes he owned. Now all he needed to do was carry out his plan and lie a little.
Lucas picked up a beer mug and dropped it in the soapy water. Footsteps thumped the floor nearby. Lucas assumed a calm expression.
“Scythe!” Mr. Skipworth shouted from behind him.
Lucas looked around, keeping his hands in the water, pretending nonchalance. “Yes, boss.”
“Why were you late again?”
“My sister got sick and died last night. The funeral’s Saturday afternoon.”
The tall, muscled saloon owner’s cold gray eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He hesitated, and his eyes softened a little. “I—I guess you’ll be wantin’ off, then, won’t you.”
“No, sir.” He dropped a soapy glass into a bucket of clean water. “I won’t need to be off. I ain’t going to the funeral.”
“Why not?”
“I ain’t got no fancy suit and tie. All I got is ordinary clothes—like the ones I got on.”
“Would you go if you did have the right kind of clothes?” Mr. Skipworth asked.
“I reckon I would. I’d sure like to go. My family expects it, I guess.”
Mr. Skipworth went over and looked out the only window in the kitchen. He wouldn’t see much in the alley out back except trash heaped up and food left to rot. Mr. Skipworth opened the window, but when the stench rushed in, he quickly shut it.
“My own sister died a while back,” he said. “I’m glad I went to the funeral. It meant a lot to my family to have me there.” He turned from the window and stared at Lucas, lifting one dark, bushy eyebrow. “I’m gonna do you a kindness, Scythe. I hope you appreciate it.”
Lucas pulled a glass from the bucket. As he dried it with a clean cloth, he looked at his employer. “And what’s that, boss?”
“You don’t have to come to work the day of the funeral.”
Lucas shook his head. “You don’t need to let me off. As I said, I ain’t goin’.”
“You’re about my size, and I want to lend you my Sunday-go-to-meetin’ clothes to wear on Saturday. You can bring them back when you come to work on Sunday evening.”
“Why, thank you, sir. That’s mighty nice of ya.”
“You’ll need proper clothes to wear to a funeral.” He pointed a finger at Lucas. “And you better take care of ’em.”
After a hearty breakfast at the boardinghouse the next morning, Jeth rode his brown gelding toward the Sharp Ranch to see Willie and his parents. He planned to make pastoral visits to several families. The Sharps were at the top of the list.
The country air was crisp and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Trotting his horse, Jeth enjoyed the cool breeze on his face. He’d never minded the cold, but he was tired of snow and sloshy roads. Jeth was grateful that the day was clear and dry and that all the snow and ice had melted.
At the fork in the road, he guided his horse to the right. As he started down a road lined with pines and other evergreens, he thought about what had happened at the boardinghouse on the previous night.
At nine o’clock, he’d drifted into the kitchen for a glass of milk before retiring for the evening, and he’d caught Dr. Harris kissing his mother good-night in the entry hall.
Quickly, he had stepped back into the kitchen, waiting there until he saw the lamp hanging from the doctor’s buggy shining in the lane outside.
He knew his mother and the doctor were engaged and planning to marry, but seeing his own mother lost in a romantic embrace had taken him by surprise.
In those quiet moments of waiting, Jeth had imagined what it might be like to hold Honor in his arms in the way the doctor had held his mother. Could he be jealous because they had love and he didn’t?
The tap and bang of hammers and the raspy back-and-forth scrape of saws brought Jeth’s attention back to the present. Lifting his head, he glanced at his surroundings. The compound where the Sharp family lived was fenced on all sides. The yard gate in front of the house was just ahead.
Jeth gazed at the carpenters up on the roof, and wondered how poor ranchers like the Sharps were paying for all this remodeling.
Jeth felt sorry for Willie and his mother and wanted to help them. They would be hurt if the older Sharp boys were put in prison. Still, righteousness and justice were important, too.
How could a mere human know what was right in all cases? Without the Lord, he knew such understanding would be impossible. Jeth closed his eyes briefly and prayed for wisdom.
He tied his bay horse to the fence in front of the rambling house and started up the rock steppingstones. Jeth gazed up at the men who were putting a roof on one of the new rooms. Most ranchers did their own carpentry work. Was he seeing the Sharp Gang without their masks for the first time?
“How’s the work going?” Jeth called out.
“All right, so far,” one of the carpenters shouted back.
Jeth nodded. He climbed three steps to the front door and knocked. A tired-looking, middle-aged woman opened the door, leaned on a broom and stared at him. Unpleasant odors came from inside the house, filling his nostrils. Spoiled food. Dirty laundry. Garbage. He tried to smile.
“Well,” she said, one hand on her hip. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m Reverend Peters and my ministry is here in Hearten. I understand you visited our church, and I would like to invite you to come again.”
“Not much chance of that.”
He’d hoped she would offer him her hand in friendship. She didn’t.
The green dress she wore needed ironing, and her stringy brown hair could use a good washing. His mother would probably say her unkempt appearance indicated she’d given up on ever finding happiness.
“Has Willie left for school yet? I met him at the general store yesterday, and I’d like to talk to him—if it’s all right.”
“Willie ain’t her
e. Walked on over to the school. But come on in.”
Jeth stepped across the threshold and looked around. Clothes had been draped on the backs of chairs and were spread all over the dining room table. The scent of spoiled milk and rotting vegetables wafted from the kitchen.
Mrs. Sharp hadn’t invited him to sit down. This would be a short visit. Jeth moved to the fireplace for a better look at a line of photographs on the mantel. None of the faces in the pictures looked like the carpenters working on the roof.
“Is this your family?” he asked.
“What’s left of it.”
Jeth thought of Selma’s death and empathy filled his heart. “Did you lose a loved one recently, ma’am?”
“My ma passed on when I was ten, and my pa died four months ago. Shot in the back at a saloon over in Pine Valley.”
“I’m so sorry.” He waited before going on. “Are these your sons?”
“All but the oldest. He’s my husband.”
Jeth glanced at the woman again. She looked too old to be Mr. Sharp’s wife. She must have had a hard life.
“There’s Willie.” Jeth pointed to a photo of the child. “Nice boy. What are the names of the others in the pictures?”
She pointed to the man with streaks of gray at the edges of his hairline. “That’s Frank, my husband.” Her finger moved to the photograph to the right of her husband’s picture. “This is my son, George. The next one is Harry, and you know Willie.”
“Yes, I do. Nice family. Where are they now?”
“I’ve learned not to ask.” She shrugged. “As I said, Willie’s at school. Other than that, who knows?” She glanced down at a clump of mud in front of the divan and started sweeping. “Just look at this place. Livin’ with a houseful of men ain’t easy, I can tell you that. They ain’t never around when there’s chores to be done.”
Jeth wondered if she was talking about having to hire men to work on the roof—not to mention the other repairs being done to the place.
“We would consider it an honor if you and your family visited our church.” Jeth tried again. “Can we count on seeing you on Sunday morning?”
“I doubt it. I never know what’s going to happen next around here.”
Jeth put his hand on her shoulder and looked deep into her eyes. “Will you try to come?”
She hesitated. “All right. I’ll try. But don’t be surprised if we don’t make it.”
Chapter Ten
On Sunday morning before the regular service, Honor chose to sit in the back row of the church. She’d come to this Scripture session to learn more about the Bible, not to be seen. She hoped that nobody would take notice of her, but when she sat down, the wooden pew squeaked.
A gray-haired lady directly in front of her, wearing a dark brown hat with a veil, turned and stared. Honor looked away, pretending she didn’t see the woman.
She’d visited Jeth’s church on the previous Sunday morning and listened to his sermon, but she hadn’t been in a Bible study like this one in years, not since her aunt had taken her to church, before Lucas had come into their lives. Honor felt awkward and out of place.
Now Miss Lucy Jordan floated into the chapel and started down the middle aisle like a queen. The scent of her lilac perfume trailed behind her. Lucy wore a light blue, winter coat with a hood edged in white fur, and she carried a fur hand-warmer.
Honor had never seen an outfit as fine as Lucy’s. Lucy drifted all the way to the front and took a seat in the first row. Then a small, middle-aged woman in a dark cape and walking with a cane made her way to the front and sat down beside Lucy. Honor assumed the woman was Lucy’s mother because she’d heard that Lucy’s mother was blind.
Honor glanced down at her clothes. She wore her tan dress underneath her brown coat. Again.
Twisting her white lace handkerchief around her finger, she longed for Aunt Harriet, or someone like her, someone who cared about her, to be with her.
Honor always felt uneasy when she was in a strange place. If only Jeth’s mother were sitting next to her on the bench. But Regina Peters was in the other room, playing the organ while the children sang.
Honor had admired the organ in the parlor at the boardinghouse the instant she first saw it, and had wondered who played it. Now she knew. Mrs. Peters had volunteered to teach Honor to play the organ, but Honor didn’t plan to stay around long enough for lessons. And Mrs. Peters would be leaving for Pine Falls soon, in any case.
Jeth taught this class. As the teacher, would he ask Honor direct questions? If he did, would she be able to answer them? She was reading her Bible daily, but she had a lot to learn.
The church organist opened with a tune Honor remembered from childhood, and everyone stood. A songbook lay beside her on the pew. Honor grabbed it and got to her feet. But how would she find the right page number in the hymnal when she didn’t know the name of the hymn?
She flipped to a page near the middle. She doubted it was the right one. Nevertheless, she held the hymnal with both hands and gazed down at it.
She shouldn’t have come.
When the music stopped, everyone sat down. Jeth strolled to the podium. Honor watched him as she put the hymnal on the bench beside her. Standing behind the darkly stained oak lectern, Jeth looked dashing in his navy suit and pale blue tie.
Honor felt Jeth’s gaze upon her from across the room, as though he could see into her heart. Her cheeks warmed and she glanced at the Bible on her lap. When she looked again, Jeth appeared to be watching someone in the first row. Was it Miss Lucy Jordan?
“Today,” Jeth began, opening his Bible, “we are going to study the meaning of true repentance.”
Honor leaned forward. The topic sounded interesting.
“Turn with me in your Bibles to the Book of Matthew, chapter six and verses fourteen and fifteen.”
Honor turned to the table of contents. Matthew. Where is it? She ran her forefinger down the page. Oh, there it was. Matthew. Now, what was the chapter and verse? Shaking her head, she closed her Bible.
“‘For if ye forgive men their trespasses,’” Jeth read, “‘your heavenly Father will also forgive you: But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.’”
Jeth looked up from his reading. “We are told in the Scriptures to repent of our sins and forgive others for their sins against us. But do you understand the meaning of true repentance?” Jeth hesitated, looking out at the congregation as if he anticipated an answer to his question. “You see—” he took his Bible and gently tapped it “—it’s possible to repeat the words ‘I’m sorry’ until the cows come home to be milked, without meaning them. Some appear to regret sinning because they got caught. Then they go right out and sin again and again.
“But Jesus said to the woman caught in adultery, ‘Go, and sin no more.’ True repentance means a change in behavior—being sorry enough not to make the same mistake.”
Jeth paused again. “Like repentance, forgiveness is mandatory, if we want the Lord to forgive our sins. Is there a person in your life who has hurt you deeply?”
Yes, and his name is Lucas, Honor thought.
“And do you realize,” Jeth went on, “that the Lord expects you to forgive that person—no matter what he or she has done?”
No matter what rolled around inside Honor’s brain. Then forgiveness is mandatory took over. She grimaced. If Jeth expected her to forgive Lucas, he would have a long wait.
On Sunday morning, Lucas dragged himself to Reverend Kline’s church, wearing Mr. Skipworth’s heavy brown wool suit and tan plaid tie. Seated in the back row, as near to the door as he could get, he tried to relax. No, he wasn’t attending a funeral, but he was in church. He hadn’t lied about that.
He felt hot and uncomfortable in the borrowed suit. Perspiration trickled from his hairline. Lucas pulled a handkerchief from his vest pocket and dabbed moisture from his forehead.
He’d brought Harriet’s Bible, hoping to sell it. What did Christians
find so interesting about such an old book? He reached for the Bible and opened it, and a sudden urge to read what was written there surprised him.
Lucas glanced down. The top of the page said, Gospel of John, chapter three. But when he started reading, his heart pounded. He could hardly breathe.
He considered getting up and leaving, but he felt suddenly weak. He sensed that if he got to his feet, he would become dizzy and fall. He started to tremble. He’d never needed a drink more. Lucas closed the Bible and set it on the pew beside him.
Consumed with the desire for alcohol, Lucas paid scant attention to what was said during the service. Oh, he stood when the congregation stood, sat when they sat. But his mind drifted. Lucas could hardly wait for the service to end.
After the last hymn, Lucas was one of the first to reach the door. He’d lost interest in finding a buyer for Harriet’s Bible, or even in talking to the couple who knew Honor, and he hurried outside. He’d only walked a short distance when he heard footsteps behind him.
“Wait,” a woman called out.
Lucas stopped and turned. Mrs. Kline stood on a steppingstone a few feet from him. She wore a dark green dress, and her golden hair fluttered about her face in the winter breeze. Hugging her arms as if she was cold, she came no closer, nor did she turn around and go back. What did the woman want?
She smiled. “You said you wanted to meet someone who was on that stagecoach, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then please follow me. They are waiting for you.”
Lucas wanted to know the names of the people he would be meeting, but Mrs. Kline was already walking back toward the church.
In a room across the hall from the minister’s office, an elderly couple sat in straight-backed chairs at a long table. During a brief introduction, Lucas learned they were Mr. and Mrs. Simon Carr. He took a chair across from them.
Mrs. Kline selected a chair next to Lucas, but after she sat there for a moment, she got up and reached for her purse. “I’m going to leave you folks now so you can get acquainted.” Smiling, Mrs. Kline left the room, closing the door behind her.
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