by Renee Ryan
Ben turned his gaze toward where Mary had crawled over to Rose. “Personally, I’ve had the younger sister, so I’d much rather the elder. But, my dear, you’ve turned into quite the shrew yourself. I suppose the question is, which one of you can I most tolerate as my bride?”
“You don’t honestly think you’re going to get away with this? Pastor Lassiter won’t allow it.”
Will took a step toward Ben, but Rusty pushed aside his coat, showing his guns. “The noose or my revolver. Don’t tempt me.”
He was serious. Just as serious as the look on Ben’s face.
“Here’s how I see it. We have a dead woman of no consequence. A man about to go to jail. A sheriff and his deputies who will testify to the truth of whatever I say. Which leaves me with two potential brides and a dandy who skipped out on his wedding night. Having made myself a reputation in gambling circles, I can safely say that marriage to one of these young ladies is a good bet.”
Another cackle twisted Ben’s face into an expression that bordered on demonic. “I have enough ladies here who can make sure that their tales of Jasper Jackson’s wedding night make anything he has to say sound like the ravings of a madman desperate to keep his wife from knowing the truth.”
Lies. All of them. And as the memory of Will’s persecution in Century City flowed through his brain, he knew that Ben would ruin Jasper’s good name. He’d marry either Mary or Rose, and do away with the other, enabling himself to lay claim to a hefty fortune.
Why did God allow such evil to exist? And why couldn’t Will have found the courage to have shot Ben when he’d had a chance? Fair fight or no, this man deserved to die.
Unbidden, a verse about trusting the Lord with all your heart ran through Will’s brain. Could he trust in the Lord enough to let the chips, as they were, fall? Would letting the Lord have control of the situation impact the outcome?
Will took a deep breath. Lord, I know we haven’t exactly been on the best of terms. I’ve blamed You and denied You, and tried taking matters into my own hands. But in all my chasing of Ben, none of it has done a lick of good. No one’s believed me. There’s a dirty sheriff on Ben’s side. The room is full of gunslingers who shoot for the fun of making a kill.
I can’t do this on my own.
The heaviness pressing on Will’s chest lifted. Yet no angels burst through the ceiling, or even through the door. No, Ben still stood before him, eying Rose and Mary as if they were as scrumptious as the wedding cake that was supposed to be served at Jasper’s reception.
“So what’s it going to be, ladies? Which of you lovely creatures will love, honor and, most importantly, obey me?”
“Neither!”
In a movement that could have only been planned, Mary grabbed a kerosene lamp from a nearby table as Rose did the same. Mary tossed hers at Ben, and Rose aimed straight for Rusty.
The result was chaos. Giving Jasper and Will enough time to reach the girls, then run through the door.
Ben let out a howl, and Will didn’t need to look back to know he was hot on their tail.
Hot being the operative word as they ran down the hallway and flames followed. The room shouldn’t have caught fire from those two lamps, but as a loud boom sounded behind them, Will realized there must have been some other explosives in the room, ignited by the smaller fire.
Whatever it was, they weren’t safe in this building. Nor was anyone else.
Will grabbed Mary’s hand, pulling her behind him as they headed for the stairs leading to the exit.
“Fire,” he yelled, hoping that the inhabitants of the other rooms would hear him in time.
As they reached the stairs, Will noticed US marshal Dean Whitaker standing on the landing, looking ready for a fight. It figured he would show up at some point or another. The marshal had been trailing Ben almost as long as Will had…but now was not the time to think about such things. Another boom sounded from the room they’d just escaped.
“Arrest them,” Ben shouted. “All of them. Those crazy women are trying to burn the place down.”
“No time!” Will kept moving forward. “We have to get all these people out of here!”
The air was so thick with smoke that it was a wonder any of them were able to yell at all. Doors flew open, and people, mostly half-dressed, poured out of the rooms.
In the melee, they were able to get past the marshal and even slow up Ben. Too many people wanted to escape the impending disaster.
“Don’t give up!”
Will turned to see Jasper tugging at Rose. Mary turned as well, moving in their direction.
“We have to keep going. You have to keep going.” He stared at Mary for a brief moment, long enough to hopefully instill the sense of danger they faced, but not so long as to lose himself in those eyes. Face streaked with sweat and soot, Mary Stone was still the loveliest woman he’d ever beheld.
And the smartest.
“We’ll never make it through the door,” Mary said instead. “The crowd is already too thick.”
She was right. Mary pointed to a window.
He didn’t need further encouragement to head in that direction. Jasper followed, pulling Rose, who seemed to find the strength to carry on at the sight of the freedom so close.
Will picked up a chair and hurled it through the window. He started to help Mary out, but she looked in her sister’s direction. “Get Rose first. She’s coughing a lot.”
Rose had grown pale and, just as Mary said, was coughing, struggling to breathe in all of the smoke. “I didn’t mean for it to cause such a terrible fire,” she said between gasps.
“No time for that.” Will picked her up and lifted her through the window. “Be careful of the glass.”
After making sure Rose made it to the ground safely, Will turned to Mary. “Your turn.”
Over Mary’s shoulder, Will noticed that the marshal had gotten trapped underneath a fallen beam. Though the marshal cried for help, no one stopped, as they were all too busy trying to save their own lives.
“Jasper,” he said, turning to his friend. “The marshal’s stuck. Let’s get Mary out and then try to help him.”
Jasper gave a quick nod of his head, as though he’d been thinking the same thing. Will lifted Mary.
“Let me stay and help.”
“No. Tend to your sister.”
He didn’t let Mary argue further as he guided her through the window. There’d be time enough for that later.
“Go to my house,” Jasper said, leaning out the window. “Father has men he can send, and the doctor is next door. Besides, it’s closer than the parsonage.”
Mary nodded. She looked as if she wasn’t going to obey, but as her sister started coughing again, Mary took her sister’s arm and tugged her down the street.
At least Mary was safe, and Will wouldn’t have to worry about her. But as another beam crashed down in front of them, Will had to wonder if his nobility had been nothing but suicide.
Chapter Twenty-Three
What had Mary been thinking, letting Will and Jasper remain behind like that? She passed a group of firemen, but she knew they weren’t going to save the building or its occupants. Their only concern would be to keep the nearby buildings from catching fire.
“I’m sorry,” Rose gasped as they turned the corner by Jasper’s house.
“Don’t talk nonsense. That fire’s not your fault.”
Technically, they had started the fire. But neither of them had realized that it would so quickly get out of hand. Or spread to the entire building.
Please, Lord, Mary prayed. Let everyone get out safely.
She should have stayed behind to help. But then Rose coughed again, and Mary knew that Will had been right to send her home with her sister.
“It’s not much farther,” Mary said, putting her arm around Rose and helping her the last few feet to the stairs leading to the imposing Jackson mansion.
They’d barely set foot on the first step when the front door flew open, and Emma Ja
ne came rushing out. “What happened?”
“There’s a fire at The Pink Petticoat. Jasper and Will are helping get people out. Rose needs a doctor.”
One of Mr. Jackson’s men came and grabbed Rose, carrying her into the house, while another rushed past Mary, presumably to get the doctor.
“Are you all right?” Emma Jane examined Mary as she arrived at the top of the porch.
“I’m fine.”
Emma Jane led Mary to a sitting room that looked too elegant and immaculate to hint that it had been full of people only hours before.
“I’ll ring for some tea.”
The absurdity of such a statement made Mary want to laugh, given that the clock in the hall said that it was two o’clock in the morning. Who would want tea at such an hour? But as Mary examined the lines on her friend’s face, she knew it was best to keep Emma Jane occupied and not focused on the fact that her new husband was in a burning building.
“We should send word to Frank, as well. I’m sure he’ll want to know Rose is safe.”
Mary forced herself to sit on one of the rather stiff-looking chairs. This perfect room was a far cry from the comfortable sitting room at the Lassiters’. Emma Jane looked equally uncomfortable in this space, taking a seat across from Mary with her old sour expression firmly planted on her face.
“Mr. Jackson has already seen to it.”
Stiff, formal. Like the old Emma Jane who was too prickly to approach.
“You call your fatherin-law Mr. Jackson?”
Emma Jane sighed. “Mrs. Jackson requested I do so. I’m not yet family, it seems.”
Poor Emma Jane. “You married their son.”
“Who didn’t even stay until the reception was over.”
“I’m sorry.” Mary wasn’t sure what else to say, and her words hardly seemed sufficient to cover her guilt in allowing Jasper to be a part of Rose’s rescue.
Mary moved to the edge of her seat. “I should see to Rose.”
A maid bustled into the room with the requisite tea tray. Having spent some time working as a maid in Ohio to help support her family, Mary pitied the poor girl, who’d likely still have to be up at dawn to tend to her regular duties.
“That’s not necessary, miss,” the maid said, as she arranged the tray on a nearby table. “The doctor’s just arrived, and he’s asked for privacy. I’m to come get you when she’s able to have visitors.”
The Jacksons, it seemed, had everything in hand. And from the expression on Emma Jane’s face, this was going to be the rest of Emma Jane’s life. Emma Jane poured the tea and handed Mary a cup. She wanted to say that she didn’t want it, nor the sandwiches so nicely displayed upon the tray. But she found, as she took her first sip, that she was parched. She hadn’t had anything to drink since she’d gone in search of lemonade at the reception.
The reception seemed as if it had happened decades ago, not the mere hours that had passed. Emma Jane, too, had aged, turning back into her former self, filled with a resignation devoid of light.
Emma Jane asked about the events of the evening, and Mary recounted them as best as she could. “Mary!” Frank burst into the room. “I came as quickly as I could. Polly and Maddie remained at the house in case one of the children wakes, but Gertie has gone to the sickroom to see if she may be of assistance to Rose. You’re uninjured?”
Mary nodded slowly, realizing that if she had been injured, she wouldn’t have noticed. Upon reflection, her body felt tired, sore, but nothing that needed treatment. Except a deeply wounded heart.
Unfortunately, no salve for such things existed.
“How bad is the fire at The Pink Petticoat?”
Mary glanced at Emma Jane, not wishing to alarm her friend, but also knowing she couldn’t keep the truth from Frank, particularly when he might be of assistance.
“I don’t think there will be anything left. The smoke was terrible, and Will and Jasper went to rescue a man trapped under fallen beams.”
The horrible images flooded her mind again, especially as she recalled the people scrambling for the exits. “Those poor women,” Mary said, tears filling her eyes. “It’s our fault the place burned down. Rose and I only meant to start a small fire, enough to distract that terrible Ben, but something happened, and there was a loud noise, and suddenly the whole place was engulfed.”
Frank wrapped his arms around her. “It’s all right. The kerosene in one of the lamps must have ignited something flammable. I know you wouldn’t have intended to cause anyone harm.”
Though his comfort was reassuring, it wasn’t enough. Mel’s lifeless body clung to the inside of her memory like sticky goo. “Part of your ministry is helping those women. They’re going to need a place to stay. Can you help them?”
Helping them wasn’t the pastor’s responsibility. “That is to say, I would like to help you help them. I don’t approve of their lifestyle, but a wise woman taught me that many of those women are not in that profession by choice. Surely there is something we can do for them, especially now that their home and livelihood is gone. I’m responsible for what happened to them, and I need to make it right.”
He nodded slowly, looking at Mary as though he understood what she needed to do. “Mary, I appreciate your heart in wanting to help. And we will do something for those women. But I need you to understand something about grace.”
Grace? What did grace have to do with any of this? They weren’t talking about God or salvation, but about women who’d been hurt because of her.
“Grace doesn’t have to be earned. When you sin, you don’t have to do something to make up for it. God’s love is boundless.”
The man made absolutely no sense. Mary stared at him, trying to understand why she was getting a lecture on something she’d known her whole life.
“I’ve seen how you react to things going wrong. You hold yourself far too responsible for everything bad that happens. Polly said that you even blame yourself for Rose’s predicament. She said that you promised to never leave your siblings alone and that you’d spend the rest of your life making up for this mistake.”
Mary’s eyes filled with tears. She had told Polly those things. But her friend shouldn’t have repeated it to Frank.
“You can’t make up for it. God doesn’t place such a large burden on our shoulders. We can’t control everything. Don’t you think that I felt guilty for allowing that man into our house? Of course I did. But I don’t need to spend the rest of my life serving some penance as a result.”
“You don’t understand!” The words burst out of Mary as a new flood of tears flowed down her cheeks. “This is all my fault. I knew Ben was a bad man. But I was afraid that the lies he threatened to tell about me would be believed and that I would get in trouble, so I said nothing. I refused to expose him because I feared my own exposure. Had I been open with my sister, with my family, with my friends, none of this would have happened.”
Her heart thudded in her chest, the weight of the enormity of her mistake nearly crushing her. So strong, the pain pinned her to her chair.
“So what?” Frank stared at her calmly. Too calm. “It did happen. Nothing you can do will change it. Nothing you do will make up for it, because you’ve put too much guilt upon yourself. Jesus has already forgiven you, so forgive yourself.”
Forgive herself? Did the pastor not understand how selfish she’d been?
“But I owe them.”
He knelt in front of her and spoke softly. “Mary. Look at me.”
She had no choice but to obey. Not because he was forceful, but because something tugged at her heart.
“When Christ died on the cross for your sins, He paid a debt that you can never repay. Grace is about not trying to pay Him back. If you accept Christ’s love, then you have to accept that you cannot spend the rest of your life atoning for your sins.”
The insides of Mary’s heart tore wide-open. If she couldn’t atone for her sins, how was she going to live with the guilt?
“He’s right,
Mary,” Emma Jane said. “You have to let go if you’re going to be free. You taught me that by loving and accepting me even when I was completely unlovable. The expectations you have of yourself—they’re not what God wants of you.”
Mary closed her eyes and tried to shut out all of the voices accusing her of the many things she’d done so wrong. She understood what Emma Jane and Frank said, but it seemed so inconceivable against the weight of the lives that had been damaged because of her reticence. And yet…
Just a few weeks ago, Frank had spoken on the parable of the debtors. Mary had marveled at what it must have been like to have the enormity of forgiveness these men experienced. Could it be that as much as Mary said she believed, she’d never fully experienced the full freedom of the forgiveness of God?
Lord, forgive me for I have sinned. I’ve been trying so hard to turn my faith into a checklist of the right and wrong things to do that I’ve forgotten Your love.
Mary turned to Frank and Emma Jane, and as she wiped the tears from her eyes, she realized that for the first time, she was truly free.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The air was getting thicker with smoke by the second. Will pulled the lapel of his coat over his mouth and nose, crouching low to the ground, where the smoke wasn’t as thick. It occurred to him again that the fire couldn’t have started by the small lamps Rose and Mary had tossed. The explosion had sounded a lot like dynamite.
Will and Jasper reached the marshal, lifting the beam off him.
“Come on, we’ve got to get out of here,” Will said, tugging at the other man’s arm. “I have no idea what other explosives are in this place. It’s only a matter of time before the whole place goes up.”
The marshal coughed and put a handkerchief up to his face. “Then we’d better get the rest of these people out of here.”
Will nodded, looking around. Though most people had reached either the door or one of the windows, he could spot pockets of people trapped in the thick smoke. No one was going to die, not if he could help it.
Jasper pointed to a place where a group of women appeared huddled together. “I’m going to help them. There’s a window not too far away.”