by Natalie Dean
“I think I may have a story for you,” Elijah said. “May I come in?”
“Of course!” Sam said, eagerly ushering the pastor in. “Right now, my lead in for tomorrow’s paper is the horse auction. I’ll take anything else you can give me.”
“Good,” Elijah said.
Sam returned to his desk, and Elijah moved to sit in a small chair just in front of it.
“Now, what’s this you’ve got to show me?” Sam asked.
Elijah produced the article which Sam took and spent more than enough time reading.
Agatha had written most of it. Elijah had only added things to soften the bits of information he thought the residents of Laramie might find disturbing or upsetting about her.
Though the article did not mention Luke Crenshaw’s affair with Agatha, it did insinuate that he had a habit of preying upon poor young women. Something Mrs. Matthews and widows like her in the town would not take kindly to.
Sam read the article over several times, his eyes growing wider each time.
“And you have proof of these accusations?” Sam asked finally, looking up at Elijah.
“I do,” Elijah said. Dutifully, he produced the pages of the book Agatha had given to him. “That should be enough to prove theft from his former employer. The rest is word from my fiancé. But, I can promise you that she is telling the absolute truth.”
Sam looked up at him for half a moment before setting the papers down next to the article on his writing desk.
“Well, I suppose if you can’t trust the word of a pastor you can’t trust anyone,” he said. “But, I’ll have to send a telegraph to a friend of mine in New York to be sure. He works near Angelica. If there’s any news there about this Mr. Crenshaw, he would know about it.”
“So, the article will appear in the paper tomorrow?” Elijah asked praying that his voice did not sound too anxious.
“Assuming my friend responds tonight,” Sam said. “But, that shouldn’t be a problem.”
With a word of thanks, Elijah bid goodbye to Sam and made his way back out to the street. As the sounds from the saloon filled the air, he wondered, not for the first time whether what he was about to do, was altogether right.
A pastor, of all people, should not be involved in spreading slander.
But, then, he reminded himself that it was only slander if it wasn’t true. And, Agatha’s documents proved that the accusations she’d made against Crenshaw couldn’t be anything but true.
Besides that, whatever way he looked at it, this was the only way to get them out of Crenshaw’s trap. The only way, at least, that did not involve either sending Agatha away or creating a scandal in the town.
If he was honest with himself, sending Agatha away quietly would have been the most obvious solution. Hadn’t she offered to leave after she told him the truth? And if he agreed to let her, who would blame him? She had lied to him, after all. About her name, her past and a good many things besides.
But, the moment that Agatha had made that quiet offer in the room at the hotel, he had dismissed it immediately. And, now, as the noise of the saloon faded into the background, he realized that it wasn’t logic that caused him to want Agatha to stay. It wasn’t even the Christian charity that he always tried his best to practice.
It was a tiny pang in his heart at the thought of losing her. A deep emptiness at the idea of never seeing her again.
When he reached the small room at the back of the church and set his bag down, he realized something he had never truly considered before.
He was falling in love with Agatha Thorne.
The thought made him stop just inside the threshold and hesitate before he closed the door behind him.
This feeling was not something he’d ever truly anticipated experiencing.
He’d always told himself that love was a choice. An action more than an emotion. He knew that, when he married, he would choose to love his wife. And, he supposed that was still true.
But, now, as he closed the door behind him, taking stock of his quickly beating heart. The way his palms grew warm when he thought about the rare smiles Agatha gave him. Or the way she twisted her long brown hair around her fingers when she was anxious.
Now, he realized, he had not only made the choice to love his fiancé but, his heart and everything else in him agreed with that choice. He truly felt this love. With everything in him.
And, as he closed his eyes to sleep that night, he prayed to God that this new feeling would not disappear with the morning light.
Chapter 8
“Out! I want you out now! No discussion!”
Agatha startled at the screeching voice echoing from the hallway. She had just dressed for breakfast and was about to button her sleeve when the scream sounded.
An anxious sounding male voice answered Mrs. Matthews. Too low for Agatha to make out what it said. In either case, the man speaking did not get far before Mrs. Matthews began to screech again.
“I don’t want to hear your explanations!” Mrs. Matthews screamed as Agatha finished the last button of her shirt and slowly opened the door. “You’re a good for nothing thief, and I won’t suffer you in my establishment. Stay in one of the spare rooms at the saloon. That’s where your kind belongs.”
Agatha stepped out of her room and, as quietly as she could, made her way out towards the parlor.
“But, you don’t understand,” the male voice she’d heard earlier pleaded. “It’s not true! Not a word of it! And even if it were, I wouldn’t think you could afford to turn away good business.”
The voice, Agatha could now clearly hear, belonged to Luke Crenshaw. She turned the corner to see Mrs. Matthews facing off against the young man. Her hands were crossed over her ample chest, her face was red, and she glared at the boy as though he were a very unpleasant pest that had made its way into her home. Like a cockroach or a rat.
“I won’t be told by the likes of you what I can and can’t afford!” Mrs. Matthews said. “I said I want you out and I meant it!”
“I don’t think it’s wise to argue further, Mr. Crenshaw,” another familiar voice said. Agatha looked away from Mrs. Matthews to the very back of the room. There, leaning against the fireplace, stood Elijah.
He seemed as calm and composed as ever. Though, Agatha was certain there was a slight twinkle in his eye as he pushed himself away from the fireplace and moved towards Mr. Crenshaw.
Still nervous about facing Crenshaw herself, Agatha shrunk back into the shadows, hoping none of them would see her.
“If you like, I can escort you over to the saloon,” Elijah told Crenshaw. “I’m sure they have room for you over there. I’m told there is almost always space available.”
As the Pastor approached, Crenshaw took a large step away from him. Agatha saw him turn his dark glare on Elijah. That was the glare she remembered him giving her back in New York when she’d discovered his secret. It was the glare that had haunted her every day since.
“Don’t think I don’t know that this was you,” Crenshaw said, his voice low and very dangerous. “You wrote that article. You and that little whore.”
At the word ‘whore,' Mrs. Matthews moved forward and slapped Crenshaw hard across the face. Agatha was more pleased than she should have been to see the bright red mark on Luke Crenshaw’s cheek and the shocked expression in his wide eyes as he turned back to Mrs. Matthews.
“I will not have such language in my hotel!” Mrs. Matthews barked at him. “Especially not about the pastor’s fiancé. We have been nothing but welcoming to you. It is clear that you do not know how to repay such kindness.”
“If you knew what this pastor’s fiancé really was,” Crenshaw said, recovering his slightly brash manner. “You wouldn’t want her in your establishment either. Just ask your pastor! He knows.”
“I know that Agatha Thorne is my fiancé,” Elijah said. His normally calm voice now carried a slightly protective growl. “I know that she discovered your secret back in New York and you threat
ened her. That’s why she was forced to flee.”
Mrs. Matthews gasped again.
“Elijah…are you sure? That wasn’t in the paper,” she said. The anger in her voice replaced by shock mixed with more than a hint of curiosity.
“Agatha told me last evening,” Elijah said.
“But, that’s not the whole story, is it Pastor?” Crenshaw said. That horrible, cocky smirk returning to his face. “You didn’t tell her about how your virtuous Miss Thorne wasn’t so virtuous back in New York.”
Another hard slap sounded. This time the hand that flew across Crenshaw’s face belonged to Elijah.
“I’m warning you,” Elijah said, his voice growing so low that Agatha had to strain to hear it. “If I hear you speaking that way about my fiancé again, you’ll get more than a slap across the face.”
“You can’t stop me from telling people the truth,” Crenshaw said. As soon as he did, Mrs. Matthews made an ironically amused sound in the back of her throat.
“And who would believe the word of a known thief over the town pastor?” she asked. “Everyone in Laramie knows their pastor wouldn’t lie to them.”
“You, on the other hand, have no standing,” Elijah continued. “So, I think it’s best if you take my advice and leave town by tomorrow. There are plenty of places out west perfectly suited for people like you.”
Crenshaw hesitated a moment, looking from Elijah to Mrs. Matthews. His face was still red, and his hands were balled into fists at his sides.
For one horrible second, Agatha thought that he just might hit Elijah back. That a fight might break out.
A second later, however, Crenshaw nodded slowly.
“I suppose I’ll get my things then,” he said. “I’ll head out the back way.”
Eyes still locked on Elijah, Crenshaw backed slowly from the parlor into the hallway opposite the one Agatha was standing in, still, thankfully, hidden.
“But, if you think this is over, Pastor,” he said viciously. “You’re wrong. You can’t keep her locked up forever. Sooner or later, you’ll both get what’s coming to you.”
Before either Elijah or Mrs. Matthews could respond to this, Crenshaw turned and made his way down the hall and out of sight.
“What a horrible man!” Mrs. Matthews exclaimed as soon as he’d gone. “It would have served him right if I’d had my boy throw him bodily from the hotel.”
“No use letting it upset you anymore, Mrs. Matthews,” Elijah said gently to the older woman. “Go calm yourself down. Agatha and I will help with breakfast if you need it.”
“Oh, no need, dear,” Mrs. Matthews said. “Cooking always calms me at any rate. And there’s hardly room enough in that kitchen for one cook let alone three.”
“All right then,” he said. “I suppose I’ll go wake Agatha.”
Mrs. Matthews turned towards the kitchen, Elijah watched her go before turning back to the hallway.
“You can come out now, Agatha,” he said with a smirk.
Feeling her face grow warm again, Agatha stepped from the shadows and into the light of the parlor.
“How long have you known I was there?” she asked.
“Since Mrs. Matthews started screaming,” he said. “I knew it must have woken you up. Don’t worry. I won’t tell her.”
He gave her another smile accompanied by a wink.
“So, it worked then?” Agatha asked. “The article?”
He picked up one piece of long newspaper and handed it to her. The Headline read: A Wanted Thief in Laramie.
“Bob Jenkins did some digging after I left last night,” Elijah said. “It turns out our Mr. Crenshaw was found out in New York and had to make a run for it. That’s why he made his way out here.”
Agatha had a feeling she shouldn’t ask any more about it. She should be grateful that Crenshaw was gone and take it at that. But something about it still bothered her.
“If he was already wanted, why did he need me? And why did he need those pages I took from him?”
“Word travels very slowly out here,” Elijah said. “Typically, if someone in a town doesn’t raise questions about a newcomer, no one thinks to ask. Crenshaw came out here knowing his past likely wouldn’t follow him. He just had the misfortune of running into you. If it weren’t for you and those pages you took from his books, he could have gone to work for a new employer here, and no one would have been any the wiser.”
Agatha nodded before looking up at Elijah.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “I know you took a big risk doing this for me.”
Smiling down at her, he raised a hand once more to her cheek.
“What sort of Christian man would I be if I refused to help the girl I loved?”
At that word, ‘love,' Agatha felt her heart rise in her chest. Before she could ask what it meant, Elijah gently brought her forward.
And, as his lips met hers in a soft, gentle kiss, Agatha Thorne knew, for the first time in a long time, that she was safe.
Chapter 9
Elijah Rhodes had not been nervous at the wedding. He had been excited and filled with a joy he thought he would never experience. He wasn’t even nervous when he saw Agatha walk down the aisle towards him. Her long, brown hair flowing gently behind her back. Curls framing her pale face.
He had not been nervous when the two of them stepped into the wagon and made their way to the hotel where Mrs. Matthews had put together a luncheon for them and invited the whole town. Though, he had to admit there had been a few too many people there for his liking.
It was not until the luncheon had finished; when he helped Agatha into the wagon as they drove back to his small home behind the church, that his nerves caught up with him.
Now, as they neared the white-washed steeple that they had only left an hour or so before, he kept glancing over at his bride. She was wearing one of her rare, truly happy smiles. And, when she started humming tunelessly to herself, he knew how happy she was.
Still, the nerves in his stomach refused to settle.
It was not that he was afraid of being alone with her. In fact, he’d looked forward to spending time alone with her all day. It was not nerves about the wedding night. If he was honest with himself, he looked forward to that too.
When he searched his mind, he realized that he was afraid of what she would think. When he brought her into the small, simple room they would share together, he worried that she would find it lacking. That she would realize she had made a horrible mistake.
The nerves in his stomach continued as he pulled the wagon to a stop. They intensified when he gave Agatha his hand to help her down, and she gave him the widest smile he had ever seen from her.
He tried to return it and hoped it looked as genuine as he wanted it to.
“I’m afraid it’s not large,” Elijah said, unlocking the door. “But, it’s been enough for me. I hope it will be for you as well.”
When he opened the door and allowed her to step over the threshold, he was surprised to see her smile widen as she looked around the small room with nothing more than a tiny kitchen, a table, a fireplace and a bed in the corner just large enough for two.
“It’s perfect,” she said happily turning to him as he closed the door. “Just like I imagined it.”
His eyes widened, not daring to believe what she was saying.
“You…you like it?” he asked.
With another, softer smile she moved over to him and, standing on her toes put her arms around his neck.
“I love it,” she said. “Almost as much as I love you.”
At her words, the nerves in his stomach disappeared completely. They were replaced by a light and joyous feeling in the middle of his chest.
“I love you too,” he said softly.
Their lips met, gently at first. A moment later, as Elijah wrapped his arms around his new bride, deepening their kiss, he knew that no man on earth could possibly be as blessed as he was.
THE END
The Privileged Bride
Heads West
Book Description
THE PRIVILEGED BRIDE HEADS WEST
Brides of Laramie Book 4
A Western Romance Short Story
One bride's heartwarming journey about finding her place in this world...and finding her way back to God.
After the death of her father, the privileged life Victoria lived lost its appeal. She longs for a simpler way of life, where she can contribute to the household and be appreciated.
When Victoria meets Jimmy and sees the beautiful farmland he owns, she knows in her heart this is where she belongs. It's love at first site for both of them. But not everyone welcomes Victoria - the farmhand Jimmy hired gives her a bad feeling down to her bones, and her intuition has never failed her. Already worried Jimmy will not want to be with her once he finds out she can't cook or clean, she's unsure of whether or not she should warn him about the farmhand.
Can she convince her new fiancé that this man is bad news? Or will the warning come too late?
Chapter 1
Jimmy Fairchild was in heaven.
He stood at the edge of the vast, bare land and felt the soft, cool September breeze that signaled the end of summer wash over him. Looking out at the flat, green pastures, the mountains rising in the distance, he couldn’t help but feel a small sense of the divine.
Jimmy was usually not the sort of man to romanticize. That was Billy’s job. Among their small band of ranch hands in the town of Laramie, Billy was always the optimist.
That was why it was strange that Jimmy Fairchild, who always worried about what the future would hold, always doubted that things would go well, was standing on this land, his land, feeling as though he could do anything in the world. Meanwhile, optimistic Billy Peters stood off on the road giving Jimmy words of caution.