Angeline (Bride Brigade Book 2)

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Angeline (Bride Brigade Book 2) Page 10

by Caroline Clemmons


  Holding up a blue bottle, he said. “This will reduce the fever and his achiness, but at his age you can’t give him much. Put four drops in a cup of water and get him to drink all of it every four hours until his fever breaks.” He opened an envelope of labels and took out a pencil. He pasted the strip of paper with the instructions on each container.

  “We’ll follow your instructions.”

  They gave the boy the two concoctions and then made a steam tent. The mentholated steam plus the other medicines didn’t please Matthew.

  After the tent, Angeline cried, “Thank Heavens, he’s breathing easier. Oh, Matthew baby, you’re better.”

  Grady clutched Matthew to him. “Can’t thank you enough, Riley. We didn’t know what else to try. You go on home and get some sleep. Looks like Matthew might be able to do the same.”

  “As a last resort, you can make a sugar tit. Um, sorry if that offends you, Angeline, but that’s what it’s called. You take a small square of clean white cloth and fill it with raw sugar and tie a string to bind the sugar inside a nipple-like pouch. Drop on barely enough whiskey to moisten the sugar and then let him suck on the bag. I don’t like to give babies spirits, but crying increases his congestion. A small amount of liquor on the sugar won’t hurt him and will help pacify his fussing.”

  Cradling Matthew on his left side, Grady extended his right hand to the doctor. “Thanks, Riley. You’re a good friend as well as a good doctor.”

  Clasping Grady’s hand, Riley shook it. “You know I’m fond of your son, but tending the sick is my job.”

  Angeline hugged the doctor. “Thank you for coming before you got the rest you need, Riley.” Surprised at her forwardness, she stepped back and her face heated with embarrassment.

  The doctor grinned at her, mirth shining from his tired eyes. “Much nicer than a handshake.” He looked at Grady. “If you follow my instructions and his fever breaks, he’ll be all right. But let me know immediately if he gets worse.”

  “We will. Go catch up on your sleep.”

  When the doctor had gone, Angeline and Grady followed the physician’s instructions precisely.

  About midnight, Grady said, “You need your sleep. He’s breathing better. Go to bed and if he gets worse, I’ll call you to watch while I go for Riley.”

  “How could I rest when our poor little boy is gasping for breath?” She ran a hand over the child’s fevered brow.

  Grady encouraged Matthew to drink more water from his cup. “You can’t endanger yourself or our baby. Please, if you won’t go to your room, lie down on my bed. Then you can hear him, but at least you’ll be off your feet and resting.”

  She hated to give in to weakness, but her ankles were swollen and her back hurt from carrying Matthew so long. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll just rest and get my feet up. Then we can take turns and you rest while I hold him.”

  She took off her shoes and crawled onto the bed. Ah, aching in her back and legs eased. Curled on her side, she watched Grady and their son. What a wonderful father Grady was.

  Once again, she gave thanks she’d married this fine man.

  When next she became aware, she was curled with her head on Grady’s shoulder. His arm rested across her just below her breasts. Contentment engulfed her. This must be what truly being married was like. Slowly, she moved her head to see if he slept.

  He smiled at her and tightened his embrace. “Great way to wake up. I could get used to this.” He wouldn’t be smiling unless their son had improved.

  She whispered, “Matthew’s better?”

  “His fever broke and he’s breathing easier. I put him in his bed and joined you. He hasn’t fussed for about three hours.”

  Alarm shot through her. “You’re sure he’s—”

  “He’s breathing. I’ve checked. Relax and let me hold you for a while longer.”

  “I should get our breakfast.”

  “I hope you don’t mind but I felt our baby kick again. Amazing what a miracle a growing infant is. A confirmation of a planned life cycle.”

  “I’m not sorry I’ll have this baby, Grady, not now that you’ve taken me in and accepted the child. Marrying you was the best day of my life.”

  He kissed her hair. “We’ll have many good days. Occasionally bad ones, too, because that’s the way the world works. Good ones will outweigh the bad.”

  Reluctant to leave his arms, she sat up. “The way nature works is that expectant mothers have to visit the privy frequently. When I come back in, I’ll prepare breakfast.”

  Hurrying to the privy, she relived being in his arms. How different he was from Horace, thank Heavens. She knew Grady wanted them to sleep in the same bed and to have relations, but he didn’t press her.

  She suspected allowing her husband to share her body would be different than with Horace. How could she have trusted Horace Brady? Her father thought highly of him, and that should have been a clue he was not right for her.

  Her father’s wealth was a draw for those seeking marriage to a woman who’d inherit a fortune. Not that she would now, for she was certain her father would leave his money to charity rather than let her have a cent. Thinking about her life in Missouri was pointless and depressing. She should concentrate on being a good wife for the wonderful man who’d married her.

  She vowed that the next time he mentioned them sharing a bed, she’d agree.

  By Wednesday, Matthew was his normal self, happily playing with his toys. For a couple of weeks life ran smoothly and Angeline was happier than she’d ever been in her life.

  One morning, Lydia came to call. “You’re looking happy when I see you at church, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to you privately.”

  Angeline poured hot water into the teapot. While it steeped, she sliced two pieces of applesauce cake. “I never dreamed I could be so content. Thank you so much for rescuing me so I could meet Grady and have this life.”

  Lydia picked up her fork and cut a dainty bite of her dessert. “You meeting and marrying someone was the goal, wasn’t it? I’m glad you and Grady are finding your way.”

  Angeline poured milk into her cup and added tea. “I sense there’s more, Lydia. What’s wrong?”

  As if reluctant, Lydia confessed, “I’ve heard rumors in town that someone is trying to get Grady ousted as minister. I can imagine who’s behind this, but I have no proof. Grady needs to be warned, though.”

  Bitterness swelled in Angeline and sharpened her reply. “Harlie Jackson and Ulys McGinnis threatened him a few weeks ago. They think he’s too soft and liberal in his ministry.”

  Lydia agreed, “There’s no telling what those two are up to, but they’re talking to everyone in the community. I doubt they can cause Grady to lose his job, but they can make his life unpleasant.”

  Angeline stabbed a bite of cake. “They’ve already done that, but from what you say, they’re mounting a campaign. I’ll warn him when he comes in from calling on the Olivers.”

  “Oh, yes, I heard she’s been ill. I don’t know the family, but I’m glad to hear she’s recovering.”

  “Yes, but they aren’t members of this congregation, so Mr. Jackson believes Grady shouldn’t call on them.”

  Lydia laid her fork on her plate and stared at Angeline. “Why, that’s absurd. I’ve a good mind to tell Harlie Jackson what I think of his underhanded tactics.”

  Angeline held up her hand. “Don’t, Lydia. He already thinks you’re too flamboyant and that you’ve brought loose women to town. Knowing I was pregnant when I arrived only confirmed that to him.”

  Near tears, Angeline said, “Grady would have been better off if we’d never met and married.”

  “My dear, how can you say that? Grady is so happy now. His face beams when he looks at you and Matthew adores you.”

  As if to prove her point, Matthew banged his thumb and came running to Angeline. “Angel, kiss hurt.” He held up his hand.

  She lifted him and kissed his thumb, his hand, and under his chin. Then, she
tickled his stomach. He giggled and hugged her neck. After a loud kiss on his cheek, she set him on the floor. Happy again, he picked up his toy and went back to playing.

  Laughing, Lydia stood. “What an adorable mother and child you make. How can you doubt you’ve improved his life or Grady’s?”

  Her mentor’s words soothed Angeline. She knew Matthew was a cheerful boy who depended on her. “We’ll see what Grady thinks when confronted with whatever Mr. Jackson has planned. I doubt my name will be kept from the complaint.”

  After her friend left, Angeline worried as she went about her daily routine. Would Grady think he would have been better had she never come to Tarnation? She thought he would be safer, but she was so happy when he and Matthew and she were together.

  When Grady returned late that afternoon, he had an envelope in his hand. He sat at the kitchen table and held the missive.

  She set a glass of milk in front of him. “You can’t absorb the words that way, Grady. You have to open the envelope and read the letter.”

  He met her gaze. “This is from the denomination office.” His troubled expression conveyed his apprehension.

  “But the church is non-denominational. How can that be?”

  “I was ordained and hired through the church office in Indiana. And that’s who sent this even though it originated in Fort Worth.” As if he were handling something that might bite, he gingerly opened the envelope and pulled out a sheet of paper.

  She watched as he scanned the letter. “What does it say?”

  His knuckles were white as he gripped the sheet of paper. “I’m being investigated due to complaints against my conduct unbecoming a Christian minister. An official is arriving on Tuesday to conduct an interview and look into claims.”

  “All the way from Indiana?”

  “No, from an area office in Fort Worth, which is the administration agency closest to Tarnation.” He crumpled the letter and stood to pace the kitchen. “I knew something like this was coming, but I had no idea Jackson would contact denomination headquarters.”

  “That awful man! Lydia came this morning to warn us of rumors she’d heard. I told her you and Matthew would be better off if we’d never met and I meant it. Marrying me was the last straw for those two dreadful men.” Fighting tears, she laid her arms on the table and rested her head on them.

  Strong hands clasped her shoulders. Gently, Grady pulled her to her feet and into his solid embrace. “Here now, don’t think that for even a minute. Both of us depend on you. You really are the angel Matthew calls you. I know you were sent to rescue us.”

  She slid her arms around him and nestled her head on his muscular chest. His heart beat strong and steady and his powerful arms reassured her. “You’re kind to say so. Matthew would have been as happy with any of the girls from Lydia’s. I know you’d have been better off. Marrying you was selfish of me.”

  He nuzzled her hair and held her close. “No more of that talk. I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me if I hadn’t been sincere. None of the other young women caught my fancy. Angeline, I never gave much credence to destiny before, but I’m convinced you and I were meant to be together. We’ll get through this pothole in our road.”

  She shuddered a sigh and stepped out of his arms. He always knew how to cheer her. If only he would say he loved her, she’d be the happiest of women. No, she should count her blessings instead of wishing for more.

  She swiped at her tears and forced a smile. “I’ll get your supper on the table. You must be hungry after your long day.”

  He released her but patted her shoulder. “See, if you weren’t here, I’d have come home to a lonely house to eat alone. I love Matthew, but he’s not the best conversationalist I’ve ever known.”

  She grinned. “He’s the strong, silent type.”

  Chapter Twelve

  On Monday, Angeline helped Grady and Mrs. Querado clean the church even more thoroughly than normal. They shined windows inside and out and polished pews and the floor. Hymnals and fans were neatly stowed in the designated holders on the back of the pews.

  By Tuesday, Angeline had the house spotless. Just before time for the stage’s arrival, she changed into her gray foulard dress and made certain Matthew was clean and in a cheerful mood from his nap. She gathered flowers from the beds she’d revived in front of the parsonage and set them in vases in the parlor and kitchen. If this man from Fort Worth was disposed to be judgmental, she certainly didn’t intend to provide room for criticism other than her obvious pregnancy. She couldn’t hide that from anyone.

  When Grady escorted Reverend Harold Rhea to their home, she was relieved to see him smile. The visitor was average height and slightly chubby. His thinning hair was dark peppered with gray and he wore spectacles.

  Entertaining important guests was something she’d learned at her mother’s knee. She smiled and extended her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Reverend Rhea. Won’t you come into the parlor and sit down?” She gestured to the kitchen where her son played with his toys. “That scamp is our son, Matthew.”

  The visitor looked puzzled. “I was given to understand Matthew was Mr. McIntyre’s from a first marriage.”

  His statement shook her but she concealed her surprise. “That’s true, but I love him as much as if I were his mother instead of only his stepmother. Since he doesn’t remember otherwise, I’m the constant female figure in his life.”

  Grady smiled at her. “And she’s wonderful with him. Matthew calls her his Angel, and I believe that’s correct. The two males in this household are indeed fortunate to have my wife caring for us.”

  Frowning, Revered Rhea pulled some papers from his pocket. “I’d like to discuss the serious points raised in this correspondence.”

  Though her stomach roiled with anxiety, Angeline forced a smile. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’ll bring in coffee and cake. You will stay for supper, won’t you, Mr. Rhea?”

  His frown didn’t completely disappear. “Well, I hadn’t planned to but now that you’ve asked, I’d be pleased to join you for a meal.”

  Angeline left the room but strained to hear what was discussed. She couldn’t make out what the two men said. She added the coffee pot, cups, cutlery, napkins, and small plates of cake to a tray and took it into the parlor. They ceased talking as soon as she walked in the room. After setting the refreshments on a small table, she served each man.

  Matthew came in and tugged on her skirt. “Angel, cake for me?”

  Lifting him, she balanced him on her hip. “Of course we have cake for you. Let’s go to your special big boy chair so you can have milk too.”

  While Matthew ate his snack, she started supper. She heard the two men go outside and wondered where they were headed. When she peered out the window, she spotted them walking toward the church. They appeared to be conversing amiably.

  Her nerves were apt to send her screaming to her room if she didn’t get herself under control. Grady would defend her as well as himself but what if he lost his job? If the church office removed him from this church, would he be removed from the ministry? What a crime that would be. She didn’t know if ministers could be un-ordained.

  ***

  Grady’s knuckles were white where he gripped the arm of his chair. “I’d believe I deserve to know the charges leveled against me.”

  Reverend Rhea unfolded several pages. “Your accuser has quite a list that goes back several years. I realize this man is a malcontent, but some of the events cited require an explanation.”

  He exhaled and fought for calm. “I’m ready to defend myself.”

  The visitor extracted a pencil from his pocket. “Let’s just go down the list. You hold a church service in the saloon?”

  “The women who work there believe they wouldn’t be welcome in the regular service and they may be right. I’ve invited them, but they prefer my coming there.”

  “And what does the owner think of this?”

  “Usually, he serves as elder to help with co
mmunion but he also attends the regular service. The bartender and janitor attend the saloon service as do some of the others from around town. We hold the meeting at eight, well before the regular church service. Actually, I use the same sermon for both services.”

  Reverend Rhea checked an item on the list. “I see. All right, what about…your sermons. The letter writer says they’re just cheerful talks rather than sermons on the Bible. How do you answer that?”

  “I’m compelled to preach the New Testament as our Lord Jesus spoke. The accuser, who I’m sure is Mr. Harlie Jackson, is a fan of fire and brimstone preaching that strikes fear in the hearts of the listeners. I don’t believe that’s what Jesus taught, for he said he brought a new covenant.”

  The visitor checked another item. “That’s true. Perhaps if we went to the church, you’d give me one of your sermons so I can learn what is usual.”

  Grady stood, somewhat reassured. “Good idea. Right this way.”

  They walked side by side to the church. Grady talked about the community and what he viewed as his mission there.

  Inside the sanctuary, he pointed out how the services were organized. His insides trembled and his legs threatened to dissolve. Taking the lectern, he launched into his sermon from the past Sunday. Repeating familiar actions and words served to strengthen him.

  As he went through the customary routine, he calmed. Even with only one person in the pews, the familiarity of preaching strengthened his resolve. When he’d finished, he gave a benediction and then walked toward Mr. Rhea.

  The older man stood. “That was as fine a sermon as I’ve ever heard.”

  “Thank you. What you just heard is the one I preached last Sunday, but it’s typical.”

  His brow furrowed with what appeared deep thought, Reverend Rhea led the way back to the parsonage. “And you say that’s a typical sermon?”

  “Yes. I change the scriptures each week and use them to teach the congregation and empower them to go out and live the message all week.”

 

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