The Matrimony Plan

by Christine Johnson

  “Who am I?” she whispered, lifting her face only to have water drip on it.

  She buried her head in her knees again and wept, letting the despair flow out until finally she felt nothing. The storm had quieted, and in the stillness, a verse from the hymn “Amazing Grace” came to mind: “I once was lost but now am found.”

  “But I’m not found, God,” she muttered into her knees.

  She let the emptiness take hold, yet one small corner of her soul refused to give up. Surely others had lost much. The apostles had left their families to follow Jesus, yet they never complained of loneliness. Gabriel had left his family to minister in a strange town. Peter and Luke and the other children had lost families. All survived.

  “I am with you always; even unto the end.” The verse came vividly into her mind. Felicity didn’t realize she still remembered the scripture she’d memorized as a child. During the years at Highbury, she’d stopped reading the Bible. She figured the verses had slipped away as well.

  Yet now this verse returned, a calm reassurance that in this bleakest of hours, God saw her, felt her pain and was with her.

  “I’m so sorry, Lord,” she prayed. With throat clotted and tears flowing, she confessed her pride and selfishness, and as the rain calmed to a steady nourishing shower, she felt the most amazing renewal. If she opened her eyes, she could almost believe she’d see Jesus beside her, holding out a hand. She reached out and somehow felt His touch, reassuring her deep inside that she was loved.

  God was and had always been her Father. He had never left her, even when she turned away. His love was constant. He would see her through this and every moment of her life.

  “But what do I do?” she whispered.

  She waited, listening to the silence for the answer.

  It came in the oddest of sounds, like oars splashing in the river followed by an odd clink of metal on metal. It was very close, perhaps just below the cave. If a boat had been out in the storm, they might need help. She scurried toward the entrance, then heard a thud and a low masculine voice.

  “Bring’em up, boys.”

  She froze. The muffled voice sounded vaguely familiar, yet she couldn’t quite place it.

  “We’ll stash them in the cave,” the man said.

  Then the undergrowth in front of the cave parted, revealing a man, outlined by the light of a half-shuttered lantern. The only things visible were his legs, his hands and a pistol.

  “What on earth did you think you were doing?” Mariah demanded after putting Luke to bed for the night.

  Gabriel knew he’d asked a lot of his sister. She’d come to help him keep house for a few months until he found a suitable wife or hired a housekeeper, and now he’d saddled her with a child. She’d had to open up a room and clean and feed and bathe the boy.

  Meanwhile, he’d hid in the library, frantically reading scripture and praying for guidance. The whole fabric of Pearlman was splitting apart, and he had no idea how to stop the rupture. When the sheriff arrested Kensington for bootlegging, it would shatter the last shards of Felicity’s life.

  Felicity. The look on her face would haunt him forever.

  The truth wasn’t supposed to come out. That’s why he’d reluctantly agreed to send Peter to the Grattans. That’s why he’d tried to get the Grattans to back off by revealing their prejudices. That’s why Kensington had confided in him, but all that effort had come to naught. He’d been able to rescue Peter but not Felicity.

  “A child,” Mariah scolded, “is not a dog.”

  Slinky whined and raised his white eyebrows.

  She ignored the protest. “Gabriel John, you simply cannot take in every stray you find. Mom and Dad might have let you, but not me. There are consequences to your actions. That boy deserves a real family, with a mother and father.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why did you take him on?”

  He couldn’t answer.

  She threw up her hands. “Don’t tell me. I know. Felicity.”

  “She was right about the Grattans,” he said quietly.

  “Granted, but that doesn’t mean you had to take in Luke. Another family could have taken him. There were twenty-eight applicants. Mrs. Simmons took Peter. Surely you could have found someone else.”

  Gabriel wrapped his cold fingers around the cup of tea. Though the evening was warm and sticky, he’d been chilled since the distribution. “I don’t have any answers, Mariah. I just know it’s the right thing to do.”

  She studied him for a long time. Then, sighing, she rose and retrieved the teakettle. “It’s not just that, is it? It’s about Felicity’s boarding school idea,” she said as she refilled their cups.

  He shook his head. “I can’t explain it, Mariah. I just know I couldn’t send him back on the train, not after…”

  “What happened to Felicity had nothing to do with the distribution,” she said in a gentler tone. “You know that, Gabe. Her parents should have told her long ago. In fact, it’s amazing no one spilled it before now, considering how small the town is. Secrets don’t stay secret in small towns.”

  Gabriel groaned and buried his head in his hands. “That’s the problem.”

  “What’s the problem? Tell me, Gabe, because honestly I don’t see why you’re acting this way.”

  He didn’t know if he could put words to it himself. That he loved Felicity? That he’d tried desperately to protect her and failed? That the worst blow was yet to fall?

  “What’s going to happen when the bootleggers are caught?” he asked miserably.

  Mariah drew in her breath sharply. “Her father.”

  He nodded and dug his fingers into his hair, tearing at it like the penitents of the Old Testament. Why had he gone to the sheriff? Why had he come up with the idea of catching the criminals at the root cellar? Tonight’s new moon meant the bootleggers would likely act and the sheriff would trap them. On top of all Felicity had endured today, she’d lose her father.

  A rumble of thunder rolled in the distance.

  Mariah put an arm around his shoulders. “Good will prevail, Gabe. You have to believe it.”

  “I don’t see how,” he mumbled.

  A flash of lightning lit the kitchen windowpane, and a loud knock sounded on the kitchen door.

  Mariah lifted her head. “Who could that be?”

  His heart raced. He knew who he wanted it to be. Felicity. He leaped to his feet, hoping God had answered his prayers, and yanked open the door.

  “Pastor.” Branford Kensington pushed past him into the kitchen. “Ms. Meeks.” He nodded stiffly and shoved a flashlight into a pocket of his canvas hunting jacket.

  Gabriel stuffed down his disappointment. “Mr. Kensington.” Aside from being angry with himself, he was furious with Kensington for not dealing straight with his daughter.

  Kensington scanned the kitchen. “I’d hoped my Felicity was here.”

  If Kensington didn’t know where Felicity was, who did? “I thought she was with you.”

  The man looked worried. “Haven’t seen her since she left the church, about noon.”

  “Dear Lord,” Mariah gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

  The fear in the room escalated, driven by the accelerating storm. Blinding lightning was followed by a crack of thunder. It had struck close. Seconds later, wind and rain lashed the house. Kensington buttoned his jacket and set his jaw. “I’ll find her.”

  Gabriel grabbed the raincoat hanging by the door. “I’m going with you.” Whether Felicity was lost, had run off or was hurt, she was out in this storm. Gabriel’s heart pounded slow and hard, like a fist thudding into a punching bag. “We’ll find her.”

  Kensington nodded grimly. “Let’s hope we’re not too late.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gabriel followed Branford Kensington into a steady, light rain that beaded off his coat. The man might be a criminal, but he loved his daughter. On that they agreed.

  The storm had cleared the mugginess from the air, br
inging a chill. If Felicity were caught outdoors, she would be cold and soaked through, ingredients for a fever. They needed to find her quickly.

  “After me.” Kensington strode toward the side of the house where Mariah parked her car.

  Gabriel reached back to close the door, but Slinky slipped out. He grabbed the dog by the collar and tried to shuttle him into the kitchen, but Slinky refused to budge.

  “Come on, boy. I don’t have time for this.”

  Mariah poked her head out the screen door. “You’d better take him. Here’s his leash.”

  Kensington called from the side gate. “What’s keeping you, son?”

  Gabriel struggled to attach the leash. The rain made the metal cold and slippery. “Slinky thinks I’m taking him for a walk.”

  To his surprise Kensington said, “Bring him along then. The mutt might have a good nose.”

  Count on Branford Kensington to treat this like a hunting expedition. Finally Gabriel clipped the leash in place, and Slinky took off.

  “Where should we start?” Gabriel asked, struggling to hold the dog back.

  “I was hoping you’d know. Already checked the cinema and the drugstore.”

  Gabriel cringed at the mention of the drugstore, but clearly Kensington wasn’t referring to the blind pig in the back. Honestly, Gabriel couldn’t see Felicity at any of the places Kensington mentioned. She was more likely to stroll in the park. Other than the mercantile, he’d never seen her in any Pearlman business.

  Kensington closed the gate behind them and headed toward the street. Gabriel racked his brain. Where would she go?

  The constant dripping of the rain dampened his hopes they’d find her unharmed. Think…he had to think.

  “Let’s work from what we know,” Gabriel suggested, coming up on Kensington’s heels. “You said you last saw her at the church?”

  “She excused herself to go to the washroom but never returned. At first I thought she went home, but none of the servants saw her come or go.”

  A knot twisted in Gabriel’s stomach. What would Felicity do? She’d gotten a terrible shock, one that had unhinged her entire world. In the past, when faced with adversity she took shelter behind her family name. Remove that, and she had nowhere to hide. Kensington owned nearly every business in town. She wouldn’t go into any them, except… His mouth went dry.

  “I hate to mention it,” he said slowly, “but have you checked the train station?”

  “Allington says he didn’t see her. She definitely didn’t buy a ticket.”

  “Thank God. Would she have gone to her brother’s house?”

  Kensington shook his head. “He’s checking with everyone she knows.”

  “Did you talk with the sheriff?”

  “He’s not in,” Kensington growled.

  They’d reached the junction of Elm and Main. From there, Gabriel could see the church steeple, backlit by the receding lightning. Felicity had stood up to her mother about that stained glass window. She’d refused Blevins. She’d come to him with the idea of the boarding school for orphans. She was strong, and she was also tied to this community. She wouldn’t leave, even after getting the shock of her life. That meant she was still here, but where?

  Unfortunately, he was out of ideas. “What do you suggest?”

  “Comb the town. Knock on doors. You take one street, I’ll take the next.”

  It seemed an inefficient way of searching, but Gabriel didn’t have a better idea. “What are her favorite places? Who are her friends?”

  “I’m not sure.” Kensington frowned. “I should have spent more time with my children, but one business or another always needed my attention.”

  Gabriel had heard his father lament the same tugging between family and the need to provide, but Dad had chosen family more often than not.

  “She liked to walk in the park,” Gabriel suggested.

  Kensington shook his head. “In the dark? We’re wasting time here, son. I say you take Main and I’ll take Oak.”

  Lacking a better plan, Gabriel started to cross the street, but Slinky had other ideas. He dug in, tugging Gabriel the opposite direction with insistent barking.

  “What’s with that dog?” Kensington said.

  “I don’t know. He won’t cross the street.” Gabriel tried again with the same result. “He probably needs to do his business.”

  “Make it quick, then. Without the sheriff’s help, we’re undermanned.”

  The sheriff. If Ilsley wasn’t in the office, he must be staking out the root cellar. Felicity said she’d played around the homestead when she was a child. What if she’d gone there to get out of the rain? If so, the sheriff might have found her by now. She’d be rescued or… His pulse quickened as he thought of another scenario. Both the smugglers and the sheriff carried guns. In the dark, either side might mistake her for the other. She could be a hostage or worse.

  Gabriel clutched Slinky’s leash so tightly that his hand ached. Rain drummed against his raincoat. “I have an idea, Mr. Kensington, and could use your help.” He had to hold his hand to his brim to shield his eyes from the rain. “There’s a root cellar out behind parsonage land. Felicity said it was part of the old Warren homestead. Do you know the place?”

  Kensington’s expression glimmered with hope. “You think she might’ve taken shelter there?”

  “It’s a possibility.”

  Even in the dim light of Kensington’s flashlight, Gabriel saw his mouth tense. The man knew what that meant, especially if a delivery was scheduled that night.

  “Think you can find it in the dark?” Kensington asked.

  Odd. The man clearly knew its location. He’d been there before. Yet he asked Gabriel to lead the way. A delivery must be underway, and Kensington didn’t want to blow his cover, even with his daughter missing. Gabriel couldn’t get the nasty taste from his mouth. Apparently for Kensington, business came before everything, even his daughter’s life.

  “Well?” Kensington snapped. “Do you or don’t you know how to find it?”

  Gabriel shook off a warning shiver. “I think so. Actually, Slinky’s the one who found it. Maybe he’ll lead the way. Come on, boy. Find Felicity.”

  Slinky strained on his leash as he ran into the park. Gabriel could swear the dog understood the urgency of the situation and was leading them directly to Felicity.

  They proceeded through the park at a quick pace, keeping to the paths. Eventually they’d have to set off through the woods, but Gabriel wanted Kensington to reveal his hand. When they reached the point where they’d have to trudge into the forest, he’d ask Kensington if he knew the way. Until then, they walked in silence, led by Slinky’s panting and rustling.

  Kensington apparently didn’t want to talk, even about Felicity. By the time they reached the pavilion, Gabriel couldn’t stand the quiet any longer. “She had no idea she was adopted?”

  Most people would balk at such a personal question, but not Kensington. “We thought it best she never know. It’s a small town.”

  “And people would talk?”

  Kensington nodded.

  Once again, they walked in silence, with only the patter of rain to accompany them.

  At the river, Gabriel headed toward parsonage property, but Slinky tugged to go in the opposite direction. “That’s odd. We never walk that way.”

  “Probably got a whiff of a rabbit,” Kensington grunted.

  Gabriel tugged, trying to point Slinky toward the root cellar, but the dog whined and cowered, the way he had the day Coughlin had hold of him. The moment came back in vivid detail. Felicity running after Coughlin in her stockings, insisting he not kill the dog. Gabriel had to intercede, and then somehow he’d ended up with the stray. Though he’d made Felicity promise to find Slinky another home by the end of summer, the dog had stamped a permanent place in Gabriel’s heart.

  “Come on, boy,” Gabriel urged. “This way.”

  “That’s no way to make a dog heel.” Kensington grabbed the leash and
gave it a yank.

  Slinky whined, as fearful as he’d been with Coughlin. Gabriel instinctively took the leash from Kensington, but as he did, a thought crept into his mind. What if Kensington—and perhaps Coughlin—had run into Slinky while delivering bootlegged liquor? Maybe that’s why the dog had gone to the root cellar during the picnic. He knew where to hide things, and he knew where things were hidden. His reaction to Kensington told Gabriel the two weren’t strangers. If Gabriel had needed any confirmation of the man’s guilt, he just had it. All he had to do was trap the man in his lies.

  He tossed out a little test. “I’m not sure I can find the cellar from this direction. Do you happen to know the way?”

  Kensington glared a moment, then handed him the leash. “Follow me. If the dog won’t come, leave him.”

  Gabriel’s suspicions were confirmed. Kensington knew how to find the root cellar. He was the shorter man with the rifle that Gabriel had seen that night. If the sheriff had staked out the site tonight, Kensington was walking right into the trap. Within moments, the truth would be out.

  Gabriel knelt to stroke Slinky’s head. He could use a friend on his side. Kensington might not be carrying a rifle, but the bootleggers would have guns. “Come with me, Slinky,” he said loudly and then whispered, “and keep quiet. This is important.”

  The dog’s upright ear pricked as if he understood. With any luck, they’d find Felicity before the sheriff ambushed the bootleggers. And if they didn’t? People could get killed—and that included Felicity.

  Felicity backed into the farthest reaches of the cave. Spiders, bats and insects. Every one made her skin crawl, but a man with a gun trumped them all. Lord, this wasn’t the type of help she wanted.

  She crouched low in the inky blackness, hoping the man wouldn’t shine the lantern into the back of the cave. She reached behind her, and her hand met a wall of cool, damp earth. She couldn’t go any farther.

  “Quick now,” the man commanded.

  He held up the lantern, revealing his face—or at least the part she could see. He wore a tattered old hat pulled low and a cloth tied around his face like a bank robber in a moving picture show. He swung the lantern into the cave, and she pressed against the dirt wall. A knobby root dug into her back.