The Preacher's Lady

by Lori Copeland

  And that was the truth.

  He rubbed a crimson splotch on the side of his cheek. “You throw a mean snowball, lady.” Tossing the washcloth aside, he rubbed warmth into her white fingers, breathing on them to thaw their tips. Her soaked gloves lay in a puddle of melting snow on the floor.

  She made herself meet his gaze. “Bo, I do apologize for my deplorable behavior. I didn’t intend to knock your brains out.”

  “I hope not. I need what little I have left.” They shared a hesitant grin. “You need to get out of those wet clothes.”

  “Yes, I will,” she said. “Let me sit by the stove a bit more. We need something warm… ” She started to rise, but Bo stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

  “Stay put.” He turned, reached for two cups, and then poured hot coffee. Stepping to the back porch, he carried a pitcher of cream to the table. He also remembered how she liked her coffee.

  Willow’s voice drifted from the parlor, where she, Ma, and Pa were obviously having a big time. Willow’s laughter and Pa’s playful whinnies suggested they were playing horsey with Pa’s feet. The memories of doing the same as a little girl warmed Elly from the inside.

  “Giddy-up!” Pa exclaimed. Whinnies and snorts sounded from the parlor with plenty of laughter to follow. Elly marveled at the ease with which Pa engaged the girl with play. He exacted no judgment of the girl. That counted as a miracle at the Sullivan house.

  Bo reached for a cold biscuit, stuck a piece of ham between the layers, and pulled up a chair. “So, want to talk about it?”

  Elly took a fortifying sip of the steaming brew. “I said I was sorry.”

  “Okay. Now, let me go with you to see Gideon.”

  Their eyes met.

  “You’re not exactly in the picture anymore,” said Elly.

  “So you say.”

  “So I mean.”

  “No, I don’t think you do,” he said with the barest hint of a smile. “If the past few weeks have taught us anything, we both know that what we yelled that day from the pine tree stuck for life. I’ve checked. Our initials are still etched in the maple too. You can’t argue with that kind of contract.”

  “Apparently, pledges and carved initials slide off you like hot butter.”

  “Touché.”

  “I’m not parrying with you, Bo. We loved each other then, and yes, I still love you. Deeply. But it’s too late for us.”

  Bending closer he said, “What I’m about to say is completely inappropriate to say to an engaged woman, but it’s true. We loved each other then and we love each other now. The question remains: What are we going to do about it? I’ve given you time, Elly. What I threw at you was hard to digest, but I knew that in time you could do it. You can’t marry Gideon—oh, you could, but you won’t. I know your heart, and you will never marry anyone unless you can give him all of you. You can only offer Gideon a life of service, not love.”

  Elly rose to pace. She needed to be clearheaded. “I don’t want to grow old and die without a family. I want children and a husband who loves me like the young boy who stole my heart when I was so very young.”

  “That boy is sitting right here, Elly. Is it the same naïve young boy? Most assuredly not. I’m not without sin, but I am forgiven by God. I have no doubt about that.”

  Elly paused. The strange words she heard earlier flashed through her mind. Trust Me. “Bo, do you believe God speaks to some people?”

  “Verbally speaks? Who can say? He’s never spoken to me, but He’s God and can do what He chooses. Why do you ask?”

  She sat back down, fingered the rim of the mug. Someday, if given a chance, she would explain the voice—or sensation—she heard earlier. She took another sip of coffee. “It’s odd how you can read me like a book.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning you’re right. I can’t marry Gideon. Maybe that explains why I totally fell to pieces earlier. I don’t love Gideon the way he deserves to be loved. I’ve always known, but I thought it would be all right to settle.”

  “No one should ever settle. Why is it hard to wait until He shows the path? His time isn’t our time.” He surely sounded like a preacher, but Elly didn’t mind.

  “So I should just trust?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t write the rules. But in order to forgive me you’ve got to forgive yourself.”

  “Myself? For what?”

  “You feel you were a fool for believing in me.”

  His words tumbled around in her head. He was right; she’d hated herself for letting him go, felt like a gullible fool, when in truth she couldn’t have stopped him from leaving that day.

  “And there’s God. You’re holding a grudge against Him. Your life hasn’t turned out how you planned or I planned. You think God betrayed you too.”

  Of course He had. God had taken everything she’d wanted.

  “All of this is why I’ve held back, why I haven’t said anything about the two of us until now. It’s also why I encouraged you to marry Gideon. He is by far the wisest choice, Elly, but you won’t do that to him. He’s deeply in love with you. He would make you a fine Christian husband.”

  “But I don’t love him. I love you.” The words slipped out as naturally as a breath.

  His eyes softened. “That’s the problem. I’ve surrendered my life to God because I know His forgiveness is complete. I sense yours isn’t, Elly. I don’t blame you. I want to help you put your full trust in His forgiveness. The freedom that follows will change everything about your life. It’s a gift, Elly. You can take it or not. If not, this oppression we find ourselves in will haunt us to our grave.”

  He searched her face. “I physically hurt with the need to live one more day of our youth, to hold you in my arms and laugh, to feel alive again with you at my side, but for now I rest in the knowledge of God’s timing.”

  He hesitantly rested one hand over hers. Her hand disappeared under his. “I love you. I adore you. Every mixed-up crazy part of you, from your head to your toes. Nothing on this earth will ever change that fact. With all that is in me, I’m praying you can fully forgive me.”

  The sobering thought jarred her. Had she been angry at the God Richardson preached? Had she forgotten that even in His wrath upon a sinful earth, His love went far deeper? In His goodness and holiness, He forgave her. Would she ever fully commit to Him if she was incapable of extending that same grace to others?

  Her fingers slipped between his and their hands locked tightly. Willow entered the kitchen and announced, “I’m hungry.”

  With a final squeeze, Bo left the table and scooped the little girl into his arms. “It’s past your dinnertime. Let’s go see what Ma has simmering on the stove.”

  Willow leaned into Bo’s chest and beckoned Elly with a wiggle of her fingers.

  “I can’t come, sweetie.” Elly took a final wipe at lingering tears. “But if you’ll come over later, I’ll have some fresh cookies coming out of the oven.”

  “Cookies!” She hugged Bo’s neck.

  Elly pushed back from the table and opened the door. Her eyes met Bo’s. “I forgive you.”

  The warmth of his eyes melted her heart and asked a silent question. Completely?

  “No.” Honesty must be the first step. A slow smile spread across her face. If he couldn’t see her white-hot love, he was hopeless. “I’ve decided to leave that up to God, but the two of us are okay now. I’ve made a few noteworthy blunders in my life—none as bad as yours—” She clamped down on the words. Full forgiveness was the goal. It wouldn’t be easy to release anger some would call justifiable, but what choice did she have, especially when he had that same old Bo Garrett grin?

  “You should think about having a serious talk with Gideon, and very soon,” he whispered when he walked past carrying Willow.

  Nodding, she wiped her eyes as he closed the door behind him.

  Chapter 18

  The thought of talking truthfully with Gideon made Elly squeamish. But she set her jaw and hitched up
the buggy the minute the laundry had been scrubbed the following morning. She waved to Ma, who was sweeping snow off the front steps. Irene waved back and motioned for her to fasten the top button of her heavy cloak. Doing so, she blew Ma a kiss, climbed aboard, and slapped the reins against the horse’s rump. The buggy lurched… and so did Elly’s stomach.

  An impeccable blue sky overhead did nothing to blunt a biting north wind. The cold needled her face, but the miserable ride to Gideon’s fortified her for what lay ahead. She had prayed without ceasing during the long night. The thought of reuniting with Bo did nothing to lighten the task ahead of her. There was still much to consider, but she had a feeling that a love like hers and Bo’s would always be there; nothing, including the worst, could break their ties. Her objective, honestly, was too difficult, but like a throbbing tooth she had to get to the root of her misery, and it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

  The door opened immediately when her shoes touched the wood porch, and Gideon waved her inside as though he’d been expecting the visit. When she leaned to give him a peck on the cheek, he brushed off the greeting. “I thought you might come,” he said.

  “You did?” The statement surprised her. No one but Bo knew of last night’s conversation, and she and Gideon hadn’t planned a visit. The weather had turned too harsh for casual outings.

  Moving to the stove, she teethed off her gloves and warmed her fingers. The house still smelled of ham and eggs. “I thought you’d be surprised to see me on such a miserable day.”

  “Not really. I’ve been expecting you.”

  She turned to face him. “You have?”

  “Actually, I thought I might see you earlier this week.”

  “In this weather?” She should get to the point, but Gideon’s demeanor confused her. “The horse lost his footing several times.”

  Gideon studied his feet. “Is that so? Perhaps you shouldn’t have ventured out today.”

  She rubbed her hands. “Shall I fix us a cup of hot tea?”

  His eyes rose warily. “If you’d like.”

  Puzzled by his short responses, she entered the kitchen and slid the teapot to the front burner, pausing to study the room. The back wall was dominated by the cabin’s largest window. She stood at the sink to see a wide swath of snowy pastures, the barn, and corrals. Cattle pawed through the snow in search of grass. Footprints led down the snowy pasture to the watering trough, where Gideon had apparently chopped through the ice earlier. Being a cattle rancher demanded much of a man. A young bride, however, could keep track of her new husband from such a vantage point.

  “Anything new at the homestead, Gideon?” she called. As a rule he would have followed her into the kitchen and chatted while the water heated. Instead, he remained in the front parlor. She spooned tea leaves into the basket.

  The kettle sang, and she removed it from the heat and filled the teapot. Entering the front room, she set the pot on a table to let the tea steep before handing Gideon a filled cup. A red-and-white crocheted scarf stuffed behind a cushion caught her eye. She noted he stuffed the scarf further down into the sofa.

  He took the cup. “Thank you.” A rare silence stretched between them, giving Elly precious time to gather her thoughts and remember her carefully rehearsed lines. She had gone over and over her speech, praying she could make him see the wisdom of going their separate ways. No need to tell him of her conversation with Bo. Doing so would only heap additional hurt on the poor man. In time he would see that she wasn’t simply fickle, but that she carefully considered their futures with mutual benefit.

  “Gideon… ”

  “Elly… ”

  “Yes?” she allowed, gesturing for him to go first.

  “About the scarf… ”

  Her gaze pivoted to the spot where she’d last seen it. “What about it?”

  “It’s nothing. Absolutely nothing. That’s what I want to tell you. Cee’s been stopping by and leaving pies and cakes. She must have left the scarf on her last visit this week.”

  “Visit?” Elly sat up straighter. “Cee visits weekly?”

  “Sometimes more.” He coughed. “Once in a while, she’ll stay and eat. It’s only polite that I ask, since she’s brought the meal, don’t you think?”

  “Of course. Yes. That’s nice of her. Well, as I was about to say—”

  “You can’t read anything into something so innocent.”

  “What?”

  “There’s no suspicious intent in Cee’s bringing me food.”

  “No, I think it’s very thoughtful of her.” Especially since Cee lived miles away on the opposite side of Berrytop. It took an effort on Cee’s part to make the visit. “Well, as I was about to say—”

  “Because it’s all perfectly innocent. You can’t expect a woman to hurry off after a cross-country trip. We sit and talk a spell. You understand, don’t you?”

  Elly glanced up. “Understand?”

  “About Cee?”

  “Yes, I understand. She brings cakes and pies.”

  “Maybe an occasional casserole.”

  “A casserole? What kind?”

  “Chicken and noodles. She brought some real tasty pork chops with all the fixings earlier this week. She makes a fine pot roast too.”

  Elly nodded. “She’s an excellent cook.”

  “You should taste her gooseberry pie.”

  “I’ve had the pleasure at women’s functions.” Elly reached for her cup. The conversation was not going exactly as she envisioned. She checked her watch. “Gideon… ”

  “Because if bringing me food bothers you, I’ll tell her to stop.”

  She frowned. Why should she worry about Cee bringing him food? She would have to thank Cee the next time she saw her. “Do you enjoy the dishes?”

  “Very much,” he admitted.

  “I think it’s nice of her to feed the bachelors… ” Something about the word bachelor clicked. Cee hadn’t mentioned a word about taking food to Gideon or any other single man.

  “No.” Shaking his head, Gideon got to his feet. “This has been bothering me for weeks now. Let me talk. It’s not right, Elly.”

  “What’s not right?”

  “Cee and me. I enjoy her cooking.”

  She laughed. “So do I.”

  “No, I mean I enjoy her cooking… and her company. Somewhat. No, I enjoy her company a lot. So you say the word and I’ll tell her to stop coming.”

  “I’m not going to tell you to stop enjoying her cooking. That would be senseless. Cee loves to cook, and I’m glad you enjoy her thoughtfulness.”

  He shook his head harder and paced like a caged bear. “It isn’t right. I wouldn’t want another man coming to see you five nights a week.”

  “Five nights? I thought you said she came occasionally.”

  “Five nights isn’t like seven nights.”

  “No. Five nights isn’t seven nights.” For what it was worth.

  “Her gooseberry pies are the best around, but if it hurts your feelings, I’ll put a stop to those too.”

  “Gideon, I don’t care if Cee brings you meals. I’m here this morning to… ”

  His pacing ceased. “Are you saying that you don’t give a fig if Cee feeds me?”

  She stared at him. “I don’t give a fig, Gideon.”

  “Now I’ve hurt you, haven’t I? That is the last thing I wanted to do—hurt you. I am so sorry.”

  “You haven’t hurt me. It’s dinner, Gideon, not poison ivy.”

  She eased to the front of her chair, trying to understand his consternation. She was the one supposed to be hurting him right about now. Instead, she was consoling him over some chicken and noodle casserole.

  “I can’t tell you how happy I am you feel like this.”

  “That Cee brings you food?”

  “Yes.”

  “Got it.”

  Clasping a hand to the back of his neck, he resumed pacing. “Because the last thing I want to happen is for us to break up over a silly thing like another woman
bringing me a casserole.”

  “Break up. That’s what I want to—”

  “Okay. Okay! I understand. I’d feel the same way, if I were you. We’ve been engaged twice, and what would it look like if we broke up a second time because of some needless misunderstanding about Cee and me? Granted, we’ve been seeing each other—not on a personal basis—but she does bring a meal and we talk. There have been occasions when we’ve taken long walks back to the wooded area. It’s real pretty there, even in the winter. The snow catches on the branches and well, it’s nice. We even sit on the porch and watch sunsets. We had to wrap ourselves in quilts last night. I didn’t know I enjoyed walks in the woods and watching sunsets. She’s an interesting conversationalist and loves cattle farming too. Did you know her grandparents were part of a party that crossed the Continental Divide? Imagine that.”

  “And she makes good chicken and dumplings too,” Elly guessed.

  “Yes! Did she tell you?”

  “Lucky guess.”

  “She’s funny and she loves kids. She says she wants a houseful. A cattle ranch can use a lot of children, what with herding and mending fences and milking.”

  “Really?” Elly sat back and allowed him enough rope to finish hanging himself. He was dumping her for Cee.

  “You’re absolutely right, Elly. Maybe we—me and you… maybe… ”

  He needed help. “Aren’t meant for each other?”

  He whirled. “That’s it. We’re not right for each other. You’re a fine lady… ”

  “Who detests cooking,” she helped.

  “I thought you might improve.”

  “And what do I know about cattle? I’ve been raised in cranberry bogs. Cranberries and cattle. They don’t match.”

  “Exactly!”

  She shrugged. “It’s possible we should call the whole wedding off. We’ve gotten very close to the altar before and something always intervenes… ”

  “God. God intervenes,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “So you’re all right with us seeking our happiness elsewhere?”