Caroline shook her head. “It’s impossible. We’ve known each other such a short time. And I fear he might disappoint me as my father did.”
Mrs. Saunders placed her hands over Caroline’s. “Which is why we must pray as never before. God can break the mighty strongholds in men’s souls. I’ve seen Him deliver men from alcohol, from mistreating their children, from gambling. Martin is young yet, and he believes in God. No one can beat the Lord in a fight.”
Did Papa have anyone like the Saunders in her life when he fought temptation, especially at the beginning, before he left Charlotte? She shut her heart to that question. Right now, Martin was her concern.
Nightfall came and went. Martin ate the supper Mrs. Saunders brought without tasting it. His long absence from the station might create problems later, but he had taken that chance when he came into town. Whatever the outcome of his trip, he wouldn’t return until sometime tomorrow.
After the pastor had convinced Martin to stay, he only said, “I’m here if you want to talk.”
Martin didn’t want to talk. Instead he paced the study, taking note of the books on the shelves. What were the squiggles on that one book? Hebrew? No, some of them almost looked like English letters. Greek, maybe. Their pastor was better educated than most men of the cloth Martin had met.
How should Martin spend the night? Why shouldn’t he find a card game? Even the pastor himself admitted the Good Book didn’t list gambling as a sin. He sank onto the loveseat. He had made a vow—to Caroline and to God—that he wouldn’t.
The hands of the clock slipped past ten, then eleven. Midnight, the line dividing day and night—the time when Dawson did his briskest business. Martin’s feet took one step to the door to head outside. The pastor’s head snapped up, his eyes questioning Martin.
He pivoted on his other foot and sat instead. Across the lawn, Caroline was keeping vigil. He felt her, felt her concern, her commitment. Did he dare say he felt her love? If her behavior tonight didn’t declare love, nothing did.
How could he disappoint a woman like that? Too easily. When he closed his eyes, they paraded behind his eyelids like a lineup of suspects. Those memories were the reason he knew gambling was wrong, at least for him. When the hunger was on him, he would lose everything he valued on the chance he might win one more time.
He waited for the evil voice to tempt him that one more time wouldn’t hurt. It didn’t speak. Silenced by God Himself? The minutes ticked by, quarter past, half past—one o’clock.
Martin shuffled to his feet. “I have my answer.”
The pastor studied him for a moment, then a warm smile spread across his face. “Praise the Lord.” He looked at the clock. “I have found that the pews make reasonable camp beds when need be. I even have pillow and blanket here for just such occasions.” He dug them out of a closet.
Martin accepted them with thanks, until the pastor followed him into the sanctuary. “I’m not going to flee once you leave. Go home; join your wife in bed. At least one of us should be clear minded in the morning.”
“I’m not leaving you, brother.”
The cold air in the sanctuary wasn’t bad after Martin’s nights on the trail. His coat, pillow, and quilt held warmth from the study. The pillow was an unexpected comfort, his knees not quite pulling up to his waist on the narrow pew. He buttoned his coat and wrapped the quilt around him.
About the time he settled, the pastor spoke aloud. “Our Father, who art in heaven.”
Martin joined in. “Hallowed be Thy name.”
After the final amen, peace overwhelmed Martin and he drifted to sleep. He didn’t stir until something skittered across the floor. Hair as bright as sunrise and eyes as blue as the rich sky stared into his. “You must be freezing out here. Here. I have toast and coffee for you, and Mrs. Saunders is fixing breakfast across the way.”
He swung his legs off the pew, keeping the quilt warm from his body heat wrapped around him. “What makes you think I’m ready for breakfast?”
“For the same reason you went to sleep. The same reason I went to sleep. Sometime after one o’clock in the morning?”
He bent forward and kissed her on the lips. “I don’t know why God brought a woman like you into my life, Caroline Adams.”
She pulled back, the coffee on her tray spilling a little, laughing.
He took a slice of toast from the tray. “But I’ll spend the rest of my life proving myself worthy.” Until he could prove he wouldn’t repeat her father’s mistakes.
Although he sought her eyes, she kept them trained on the floor. But when she poured coffee for him, their fingers brushed. Her fingers trembled, and he heard her soft sigh. “That’s the sweetest thing any man has ever said to me.”
A cough echoed in the sanctuary. The pastor. Martin and Caroline sprang apart.
“Is any of that for me?” Pastor Saunders’s voice held a hint of humor.
“Of course.” Caroline trotted across the floor to serve the pastor. “A proper breakfast is waiting for you in the parsonage.”
“Not a word will pass my lips, but don’t be surprised if all of Horse Flicker is talking about a pair of sweethearts by dinnertime.” Pastor Saunders clapped Martin on the back.
Martin groaned. “As long as they don’t hear the rest of the story.”
“Don’t worry. The town will have your back. Now let’s put up our gear and head over for bacon and eggs.”
They sped through the process, anxious to get to the warm parsonage. The cold had crept underneath the layers of clothes. No amount of effort kept Martin comfortable.
Only four places were set at the table, although plates for the children waited on the counter. “If we stay quiet, we should have half an hour before the children wake up,” Mrs. Saunders said. “It’s Saturday. They don’t wake up for chores until we make them.”
Martin chuckled.
Johnnycakes and crisp bacon strips were piled high on a plate. Fluffy scrambled eggs waited in a bowl. After the pastor said grace, they dug into the food. The hunger that Martin had lost last night returned with a vengeance.
After everyone took seconds, they were ready to talk. The pastor said, “We need to make plans. Let’s start with prayer.”
A loud knocking interrupted the prayers. The Saunders exchanged glances. “Who could be calling at this time of day?”
“Whoever it is, God brought them here at this time for a reason.” The pastor went to the door. Cold air whooshed into the room. He called over his shoulder, “We’ll be at the church for a few minutes. Please stay here.” The door shut.
Martin looked at Mrs. Saunders. “Does this happen often?”
She nodded. “Any time of the day or night. He’ll come back as soon as he can. Go ahead, finish eating before the food goes cold.”
Martin ate but his worries about the plans that must be made wouldn’t leave him alone. Why had God interrupted them? God, I’m trying to trust You.
The minutes stretched and conversation stalled. Mrs. Saunders was gathering the breakfast dishes when the door opened again. Pastor Saunders brought his visitor forward, a man with ginger hair peppered with gray.
The stranger stepped forward, his eyes focused on Caroline. “I hear you’re looking for me. I’m George Adams.”
Chapter Ten
Her father. Caroline trembled all over. The man she had hoped to see for most of her life, standing less than two feet in front of her. She wanted to run into his arms. She wanted to run away. When she swayed, Martin sprang to her side. Leaning on him, soaking in his strength, she breathed deeply before she fastened her eyes on her father. “I can’t believe it’s you.” Her voice wobbled.
“My dear Caroline. You look so much like your mother.”
Her hand immediately went to her hair. “I look nothing like my mother.”
He spread his arms. “You may have my hair. But seeing you standing there is like seeing your mother.” He reached into his coat pocket and brought out a miniature. “I have kept th
is close since the day I married your mother.”
The image of her mother, so young, so in love, so hopeful, brought tears to Caroline’s eyes. “Mama. She believed in you to the very end.” She held on to the piece, unwilling to return it.
Her father hung his head. “I have no excuses. Pastor Saunders tells me you’ve read my journal, so you know my sorry tale of sin and failure, and we will talk about it later. But—” He tore his gaze from Caroline and pinned Martin instead. “Pastor Saunders tells me that Dan Dawson is in town, and that you intend to rid Horse Flicker of him forever. I ask to be part in your plans. I have a score I must settle with him before I can be a free man.”
Martin looked at the pastor, asking the question that pounded in Caroline’s heart. Was such a confrontation wise?
“Who’s that man?” A sleepy-headed toddler came out of the back bedroom.
With the children awake, they transferred to the church for their discussion. Mrs. Saunders hugged Caroline as she walked out. “I’m praying for you.”
Time stretched like taffy as they prayed and made plans. A spirited discussion ended with the decision to approach Dawson in midafternoon.
“I should check in with Sally. I’m supposed to be at work.” Caroline grinned. “You should meet her. Please come with me.” She held her breath.
“As long as I’m with you, I’m happy. And Martin, will you join us?” asked George.
“Are you going to the station?” Caroline said.
Martin shook his head. “Not until the business with Dawson is settled.”
Caroline couldn’t argue with that. When the three of them walked into the restaurant, Sally dropped the dish towel she was holding. “It can’t be.” She stepped forward. “Is it?”
“It’s been the most marvelous morning.” Caroline clapped her hands. “Sally, please meet my father, George Adams. Papa”—the word felt like lemon candy on her tongue, tart yet somehow sweet—“this is Mrs. Gibbs, who has taken me under her wings.”
“Call me Sally. It’s good to have you back in Horse Flicker.”
Papa took her hand in his and shook it gently. “Thank you for taking care of my girl in this hostile land.”
“It’s the least I could do. Now, you go on up to our rooms and have yourself a good visit.” Sally turned to Martin. “And how are you this morning? In need of food?”
Martin shook his head. “Mrs. Saunders gave me breakfast.”
Caroline interrupted before Sally got started. “He’s coming with us.” Sally was a good friend, like the mother she had lost, but Martin belonged with her.
Martin hung behind when they reached the stairs. “Are you sure you want me with you?”
“Don’t turn down a good woman, Martin. She’ll help keep you on the straight and narrow.” Papa patted Martin on the shoulder.
A frisson of pleasure rushed through Caroline as she listened to the two men she cared the most about in the world arguing about how to care for her. In the apartment, she headed for the kitchen, feeling the need to prepare refreshments. But another cup of tea or coffee might keep her awake all night. She fixed a pitcher of water with glasses in case anyone got thirsty. Why was she wasting time while her father was in the living room?
Martin was sharing the tin toy of the Pony Express rider with her father. “She brought it for you, so I want you to have it.”
“You brought it with you when you came into town?” Caroline wanted to giggle.
Martin grinned. “I stuck it in my saddlebag.”
The childlike delight in her father’s eyes, and Martin’s generosity in giving it, warmed her heart. “I’m glad it pleases you—both of you.”
Her father fondled the rider, then set it on the table. “Where do we start, Caroline?”
Caroline took a deep breath. “What brought you back to Horse Flicker?”
He sent a puzzled look at Martin. “I thought she knew.” When Martin shrugged, her father said, “Martin set the Trail on fire looking for me. Every station from here to San Francisco knows you’re looking for me. It didn’t take long for the news to reach me.”
Caroline had known about the messengers, but the urgency? That still didn’t answer her question. “But why did you come to see me? You never did before.” Tears formed in her eyes and hurt accumulated over a lifetime rushed to her head.
He shifted his feet back and forth. When at last he lifted his head, tears flowed down his cheeks. “I have no excuses for you. I’ve been working on a ranch, earning money to pay back Dawson. But I’ve reached this point before, only to fail again.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a heavy sack.
Caroline sucked in her breath.
“But I heard you had come to Chelan Station looking for me, not back in Charlotte. That your mother had died, leaving you all alone in the world and looking for me.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I took my time, asked God what I should do. When I heard Dawson had come back, I knew what I had to do. He might kidnap you, take you to some forsaken hole-in-the-wall looking for fresh flesh and claim it was payment on the interest of what I owed.”
“Oh, Papa.” All the questions, all the pain and understanding to be answered, melted into the background with that statement. “What did any one of us ever do for God to bless us like this?” For the first time in sixteen years, Caroline felt her father’s strong arms around her body, comforting her as tears fell.
The pastor joined them in the personal quarters about the store in midafternoon. “Remember you are new men in Christ. The old man is gone. You are no longer governed by sin and death, but by life and peace. We are approaching this man in the power of God.”
Martin believed in the possibility although he couldn’t guess how. That was enough for now. God would finish the work He’d started.
“I’m coming with you.” Caroline’s mouth thinned.
The three men formed a line as solid as a brick wall, as impossible to breach as giants playing a game of red rover. Pastor Saunders said, “You’re upset. You want to confront the man who played a role in keeping your family apart. But you cannot come.” He pointed to her father and Martin. “They can’t be worried about your safety while they’re talking with Dawson. Don’t be foolish.”
Martin refused to look at Caroline. One pleading look would melt his resolve, his newfound determination to protect her at whatever cost to himself, but he was no coward. He narrowed his eyes and stared at her. “There’s things a man has to do for those he loves—and this is one of them.”
George nodded in agreement. “Well spoken.”
A knock at the door announced the arrival of the town sheriff, the fourth member of their squad. “Let’s go kick him so hard he won’t even feel the dust as he flies out of town.”
“I’ll stay.” Caroline’s voice sounded so small, but she stood resolutely. “I’m with you in spirit.”
Martin kept his eyes on her until her face disappeared from view.
They walked to the saloon, which was just waking up for the day. Pastor Saunders stared at the swinging doors. “I don’t like entering this building.”
“I’ll go first.” The sheriff went in, the other three on his heels. Martin picked out Dawson chatting up a kid of eighteen or so over a glass of whiskey. They sped across the boards before he could make his escape and surrounded the table like a noose.
“Well, hello, there, preacher. I see you brought more customers for me.” Dawson grinned widely.
The kid had a different reaction. He tripped out of the chair and to the door. Praise the Lord.
Martin wasn’t afraid. The Lord was with him as He was with Moses. Martin pointed his finger in Dawson’s face. “I’ve joined God’s side. You won’t be seeing me again.”
George leaned over Dawson’s shoulder and plunked his bag of money on the table. “There’s every penny I owe you. You won’t be seeing me again either.”
Dawson’s grin almost reached his ears when he saw the bag. “How about I play you double or no
thing?”
George’s hands clenched. Martin felt the same tug, to put his money on the table to gamble for a fortune and lose a life. But the peace the Lord had promised settled over him. At the same moment, George’s fist relaxed.
“So our business is done for now. Unless one of you gents cares to join me?” He looked the sheriff in the eye. “So far as I know, a friendly game of chance is legal in Horse Flicker.”
“Yup.” The sheriff laid his hand on his holster. “But cheating ain’t, and I’ve heard testimony aplenty about that. You are not welcome in Horse Flicker at any time, by anyone, either church or law. Whichever one you care to fight.”
Pastor Saunders leaned forward. “I’d pick the law, if I were you. Because God’s sent an army of angels around town. If you come back here, you might not escape with your life.”
Dawson looked from one face to the next. “I’ll go upstairs for my belongings and be back in a jiffy.”
With one long stride, Martin positioned himself between Dawson and the stairs. “You’re not grabbing your things. You’re leaving the same way I did the last time we met—with what you have on your back. You’re lucky you have a horse.”
“You can’t.”
“Stand up.” George hauled Dawson to his feet and checked him for hidden pockets. He recovered hidden cards, trick dice, and other items of interest as well as his cash. George handed the money to the pastor. “Dawson’s making a gift to the benevolence fund, as well as any money we find upstairs.”
George tossed his own bundle of money in the air. “This one you get to keep, so everything’s even between us. I’m putting in your name at a bank in Kearny. You can’t touch the principal for five years. Interest only.” He removed a single gold coin and tossed it to Dawson. “That should get you started on your new life.”
“Here’s a meal from Mrs. Gibbs.” Martin handed him a basket. “Now get out of town before the sun goes down.” Bright sunrays already streamed over the saloon doors. The time had come.
The saloon had gone silent. The bartender watched openmouthed while George and Martin marched Dawson out the door, the sheriff and pastor following close behind. After a stop at the edge of the livery to fetch his horse, they accompanied him to the edge of town and stayed until he passed out of sight. Pastor Saunders pointed to the sky. “We may not see them, but God’s giving Horse Flicker an angel guard from this time forth. I’m sure of it.”
The Pony Express Romance Collection Page 19