For the first time in his whole life, Caleb could proudly state what he did for a living (if he didn’t count the two years that he worked as a carpenter in Sante Fe). He was a preacher. A respected position in anyone’s opinion. So when he gave her the information that she asked for, he was a little anxious to see what kind of reaction that he would get from Miss Rachel Branigan.
“I’ll be living in that little white house by the church. I think they call it the parsonage. You see, I’m the new minister.”
The reaction he got was not what he’d expected. In all his life, Caleb couldn’t remember ever seeing a person turn white so fast.
It gave him pause for a few moments. It occurred to him that maybe he’d slipped and said “bounty hunter” instead! No. He was positive he’d said “minister.”
“Miss Branigan? Are you all right?”
She made herself stop gaping at what he had just said. Hadn’t she known that it would be foolish to hope that he was different? She had just never thought—not in a million years—that this handsome man would turn out to be a preacher!
She forced herself to take a calming breath and then plastered a pleasant smile on her face. “Of course! I’m fine. It’s just that you don’t look like a … preacher.” She hoped that the last word had not sounded as bitter as it tasted on her tongue.
Caleb gave her a searching look. “Is there a certain way a preacher is supposed to look?” he teased, obviously trying to lighten the mood that had grown leaden.
Rachel looked at him sheepishly. “I guess that was a silly thing for me to say.”
He smiled gently at her and said in a quiet way, “Miss Branigan, I would never think that you were silly. I’d even bet that you were rather a smart lady.”
She looked away, embarrassed. “You don’t even know me, Mr. Stone.”
“It’s just a hunch. I’ve found that I’m rarely wrong about these hunches.” He suddenly pulled back from the counter and placed his hat back on his head. “I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Miss Branigan.” He tipped his hat smartly and left the store.
Rachel stared at the closed door long after the little bell attached to the top had stopped jingling.
Addie Hayes and her best friend, Mattie Mae Higgins, stood on the small porch of the parsonage. Addie, eyes squinting and hand shading her brow, anxiously scanned the street for anyone who might resemble a minister.
“See him yet?” Mattie Mae asked in her scratchy voice. In an automatic motion, her hand flew to her salt-and-pepper hair to smooth any stray wisps.
“Nope. Not hide nor hair of ’im,” Addie answered with a sigh. “Maybe he wasn’t on the train. Roscoe said he didn’t see anyone get off that train that looked like a preacher.”
Mattie Mae snorted at that statement. “Roscoe Smith can’t see anything clearly unless it’s within spittin’ distance. He’s blinder than that old mule Harold Ray keeps tied behind his house!”
Addie appeared to ponder something for a few moments, then asked, “Wonder why he keeps a blind mule tied to his house? That never made a lick of sense to me.”
“Why, for company, of course! I once caught him kissing the old varmint on the nose.”
Addie looked shocked. “You didn’t!”
Mattie Mae nodded in a superior way. “Saw it with my own eyes. I’m surprised that you didn’t know how he felt about that mule, seeing as how you’re sweet on him and all.”
Addie’s blush showed from her graying hairline to her rose-tinted toes. (No one in Springton knew that Adelaide Hayes painted her toenails!) “Why, Mattie Mae Higgins, I’m sure that I have no idea what you’re talking about!” she huffed indignantly.
Mattie Mae laughed at that, then looked back out to the street. “Addie, who’s that young fellow walking this way?”
Addie squinted again and shook her head. “I don’t rightly know. You don’t suppose he’s the new reverend, do ya? It sure would explain why Roscoe didn’t see him.”
“I don’t know. He’s a right nice-looking fellow, isn’t he?”
“Humpft! I wouldn’t know, Addie Hayes! I’m a married woman. I don’t notice such things as that!” she said indignantly, though she couldn’t bring herself to stop staring at the man.
Addie planted her hands on her hips and looked over at her friend. “Well, for someone who ain’t noticin’, you’re sure looking hard enough.”
This time it was Mattie Mae who colored. “Oh, hush up, Adelaide! Look! He’s opening the gate!”
Caleb was walking through the gate when he saw two elderly women staring at him. With a charming smile, he approached them. He reached the bottom step of the stairs and lifted his hat off his dark head in a gallant gesture. “Good afternoon, ladies. I suppose you’ve been waiting for me to arrive. I’m Reverend Caleb Stone.” This time, he had no intention of doing anything but shaking their hands. He’d learned his lesson on that score. “It’s a pleasure to meet such lovely ladies as yourselves.”
Slowly, they each extended a hand to the new minister. Neither of them had so much as nodded.
“Oh …,” Addie managed to say.
“… my,” Mattie Mae helpfully finished for her.
Addie was the first to speak. “You don’t look like a preacher!”
“Oh, for goodness sakes, Addie! What a thing to say!”
“You just said the very same thing not three minutes ago, Mattie Mae Higgins!”
“But I wasn’t addlebrained enough to say it right to his face!”
“Well, let me tell you something …”
“Uh … ladies?” a deep voice spoke up, interrupting their arguing.
Caleb watched as their irate gazes turned on him; then, realizing what they were doing, each woman slowly looked away with embarrassment. They both became suddenly interested in smoothing their calico skirts.
“Hello there!” a loud voice called from the gate.
Both women looked up with relief at Harold Ray Norton as he unknowingly came to their rescue. “Harold Ray Norton, this here’s the new reverend, Caleb Stone,” Mattie Mae quickly stated.
A look of surprise crossed Harold Ray’s weathered face when the tall man turned around to face him.
Finding their shock rather humorous, Caleb grinned and extended his hand to Harold Ray. “These ladies here were just telling me that I didn’t much look like a preacher to them.”
Harold Ray looked scandalized. “Why, Adelaide Hayes, you knew that the letter stated that the new minister would be thirty-two years old.”
“But Addie told me she just didn’t realize that he’d be such a handsome man!” Mattie Mae said slyly.
Addie nearly choked. “I said no such a thing!” Her face steamed bright red, and Harold Ray broke out into a hearty laugh.
Caleb had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Quickly he turned to address Harold Ray. “I have a trunk back at the station. I was wondering if you might know where I can get a wagon to haul it up here to the house?”
“Got one right here, Reverend. Be happy to fetch it for ya! You just let these ladies take ya on in and show ya around the place.”
“Thanks, Mr. Norton. I’d appreciate it!” He shook the older man’s hand and turned his attention back to the ladies.
Wanting to avoid any more embarrassing moments, the ladies hopped into action. “Come on in, Reverend. Mattie Mae and I cooked you up a delicious peach cobbler!”
Caleb’s grin was a mile wide. “Just lead the way, ladies,” he said as he motioned for them to enter the house ahead of him.
Being a preacher did have its rewards!
Chapter 3
Night had descended upon the small Texas town, though the brightness of the full moon above prevented total darkness. It was a beautiful night. A night for taking long walks with a sweetheart or for sitting with family on the front porch after a full, satisfying supper. It was a night to share.
Maybe that was why Caleb was feeling such an intense loneliness. He propped his big shoulder up aga
inst the pillar of his front porch and sighed. Sure, he had felt this way before. This pretty much was the story of his life. But never before had another feeling accompanied the loneliness—a feeling that was just as intense, just as disturbing.
It was an urgency, he realized. An urgency to do something about his solitary state. Before, it hadn’t mattered that there was no one waiting at home for him. Women to him had been a convenience when you needed them and a nuisance when you didn’t. He never cared whether he impressed a woman or not. It just didn’t matter. But then again, nothing much mattered to the old C. J. Stone.
Now it mattered, and Caleb knew why. The reason was wrapped up in one beguiling, beautiful, and mysterious package named Rachel Branigan.
The memory of her had forced its way into his mind all afternoon. At first he had tried to convince himself that the only reason he kept thinking about her was that, as a minister, he would be needing a wife. Mary Ellis had placed that little jewel of wisdom in his ear every chance she got. Not only had she mentioned it, she paraded every available female in the Santa Fe area through their parlor and would casually drop an introduction as if it had all been a coincidence!
But Caleb’s mind usually ran on one track. And at the time of all those tempting introductions, his mind had simply been on something other than getting himself hitched. Every minute of the day, when he wasn’t working at his job, he was studying. Finding a wife simply was not a top priority. After all, he had done just fine without one for thirty-one years. Waiting another few years wouldn’t kill him.
Then why, all of a sudden, did it feel like it would?
He chuckled softly at himself. He had spent less than ten minutes in her presence and already he could hear the clanging of wedding bells.
Pushing away from the pillar, he walked down the porch steps and sauntered over to stand under the gaslit streetlamp. He gazed down the main street of town. Not much was happening. A few men lingered, smoking their cigars outside of the saloon. A couple men staggered out the swinging doors, their drunken laughter drifting slowly over to him.
The saloon crowd was one of the first things that he planned to work on in this town. Like almost any other minister would, he wanted the saloon to be closed down. But he didn’t plan to accomplish that by posting ladies outside to sing hymns or by preaching hellfire and brimstone from the pulpit every Sunday.
No, Caleb had another plan. He would simply get to know the men who frequented the establishment and let them get to know him. He understood their way of thinking and what they were going through because he’d been there himself. Those men were on his heart, and he hoped he could make them listen and understand that God loved them.
Excitement shot through him as he thought about everything he wanted to accomplish. The saloon was only one of the many areas that he felt he needed to attend to.
His biggest project would be to set up a decent orphanage in town. The orphanage where he had been left at the age of ten was a nightmare. He had been starved and beaten for no reason; and he, along with the rest of the older children, was put to work in the factory that the orphanage owners operated. Not once had he been looked at by families who were seeking to adopt. He knew he had to get out of that situation or he would die, so he fled.
He wanted to create a healthy, happy environment for orphaned and abandoned children—one where they would feel loved and wanted even if no one ever came to adopt them.
There were so many things that he wanted to accomplish. But he was realistic enough to know that it would all take time.
His eyes drifted to the general store just down the street. A smile curled his lips as he considered that maybe his mind wasn’t so one-tracked after all. For even though his pastoral duties weighed heavily on his thoughts, his mind also was filled with the sweet face of Rachel Branigan.
Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough!
“Mama! No go bed! No!” Caitlin complained to Rachel in her high-pitched little voice as her mother tucked her into bed. “Pway! Pway!”
“Caitlin, my sweet, you’ll have plenty of time to play tomorrow. Now, give me a kiss and close your eyes,” Rachel directed gently.
A big wet kiss was delivered to Rachel, accompanied by a fierce hug. “Night, Mama,” she said with a yawn, her blue eyes already closing.
Rachel smoothed her hand over her daughter’s black curls. “Good night, lass. Sweet dreams,” she whispered and reached over to dim the lamp’s flame.
The room was feeling a little stuffy, so Rachel walked over to the window and lifted it halfway up.
It was a lovely evening. The stars were shining. There was even a cool breeze. But instead of being refreshed by the beauty of the night, Rachel just felt lonely. She hated feeling this way.
And she felt guilty, too. God had given her so much to be thankful for that she knew she shouldn’t waste time feeling sorry for what she didn’t have. But talking to the new preacher today had stirred up those old feelings and brought to mind all those old dreams. She wanted a husband to take care of her and Caitlin. She wanted someone to love her and cherish her.
The preacher, she believed, was just the kind of man who could make a woman feel like she was queen of the world. Rachel couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was that made her think that of him; but looking into the man’s eyes today, she was sure she’d seen a generous and kind heart.
And he’d looked at her like she could be a queen. His queen!
But by tomorrow evening, he would probably know. It wouldn’t take long before Caleb Stone was fully informed of who in town was a heathen and who was not. And since she had been banished from the church, she was definitely listed in the heathen column.
Sometimes she wondered if God felt that way about her, too. Addie always assured her that God knew Rachel’s heart and saw the goodness in her. But sometimes that was hard to accept due to the way everyone treated her.
A flash of white at the end of the lamplit street caught her eye, and she tilted her head to investigate.
Her heart skipped a beat. It was him. Caleb Stone. He was standing just inside the white picket fence that surrounded his house. With his arms folded, he rested them on the flat top of the gate. The wind was ruffling his dark hair, and he appeared to be in deep thought.
If only it could be, she thought. If only it could be.
Suddenly his gaze lifted, and she knew that he’d seen her. She knew she should look away, but she couldn’t do it. He couldn’t seem to break away, either, because his eyes never wavered.
At first Caleb had thought it was only his imagination—he had been thinking about her so hard that he had somehow conjured up her image. But then he realized she was real. And she was looking at … him! Caleb could feel his heart pounding inside his chest. He kept his eyes glued to her image, afraid that if he blinked, she would go away. But she didn’t.
Did she feel the same attraction for him that he did for her? A surge of hope swept through him.
He took a deep breath, then allowed himself to smile the smile that was just bursting to come forth. He raised a hand and gave her a brief wave.
The preacher had waved at her! That meant he still didn’t know. So tonight she would pretend. Tonight she would let herself dream.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, she lifted her hand and returned his wave. A smile lit her own face as they continued to look toward each other.
She stayed there at the window only a moment more, just so she could remember. And she would remember this night and this feeling. She would remember that for one moment in her life, she had felt pretty and adored. She would remember it because it probably would not happen ever again.
Then she lowered her eyes and walked away from the window.
Caleb’s smile softened but did not leave his face as he watched Rachel disappear behind a filmy curtain. He vaguely noted that his heart was still pounding and his hands were sweating. One little wave from the woman, and he was a mess.
“Hey, preacher man!” a
loud, drunken voice called from the street, breaking into Caleb’s thoughts. Caleb lifted his head and peered thoughtfully at the figure that stood swaying before him, waving a half-empty whiskey bottle. “Why don’tcha (hick) come on o’er an’ join us?”
That statement brought on snorts of laughter from the three men lounging in front of the saloon.
Caleb swallowed a grin and opened the gate. “Don’t mind if I do!” he called out. “I’ve been wanting to get to know all of you!”
They all stopped laughing.
Chapter 4
The next morning, Caleb sat in the town’s only restaurant and hotel, eating breakfast. The church council had set up an account for him there since he was a bachelor. He watched as townsfolk, mostly men, dined in the relaxed atmosphere. He wondered if any among them attended the church.
A tall, brawny young man walked in and, upon searching the room, headed toward Caleb. The star on his chest marked him as the town’s sheriff.
“Reverend Stone?” the man asked in a friendly tone.
Caleb nodded and stood up. “Name’s Caleb. You the sheriff?”
“Yes. Lee Cutler.” They shook hands. “I heard you would be eating here and thought I’d come and introduce myself.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Lee. Have a seat!” He motioned to the empty chair across from him.
When both men were seated, Caleb asked the sheriff, “Are you from Springton originally?”
Lee shook his head. “No. I moved here five or six years ago. I’m from Houston—near there, anyway. My father has a ranch down there. I was in the Rangers when I came through on the trail of a suspect. I liked it here; and when the sheriff position opened up soon after that, I checked into it, got the job, and moved here.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I’ve felt for a long time that Springton’s church needed someone new and fresh to come in and challenge us. I guess we’ve all become sort of comfortable. I’m looking forward to hearing you Sunday!”
Caleb reached up and rubbed a finger across his chin. “Now, Lee, don’t be afraid of putting me under any pressure or anything.” They both laughed, although Caleb’s laughter was a little shaky. “This is my first church, and I’ve gotta confess that I’m nervous. There’s a lot I want to accomplish, but I want to do things right.”
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