"You can soothe my heart and you can counsel my soul, but it was the law I was scared of. I didn't want secrets from the sheriff causing us trouble."
"Secrets won't do us any good." He pressed a kiss to her curls. "But we should especially not keep secrets from one another."
She sniffled against his chest, nodding. "You're right. I promise, Matthieu, I won't keep any more secrets from you. From now on, my concerns are yours."
"And I promise the same." He squeezed her as close as he dared with his injury, the little twinge of pain reminding him. "You know, I should confess something, he offered sheepishly.
"What's that?"
"My first injury, from the horse? It wasn't as bad as I made it out to be. I told you it was worse than it was so you'd keep staying here for your own safety."
He hadn't been sure what response to expect from his little lie. Her sweet, musical laughter was the best possible answer. "Perhaps you're finally starting to like being pampered and cared for."
Matthieu cupped her cheek in his hand, gazing at his remarkable woman in wonder. For all that he tried to take the right action in his life, he knew he hadn't done something to deserve her or win her like a reward. Beulah in his life was pure grace; she was an unasked for, unearned taste of paradise.
But the peaceful home she wanted to keep in Sweet Town wasn't for certain. Not with half the town outraged by him, and not with Beau Jennings sniffing around. A chill passed over him even in that brief flash of bliss. Perhaps, like Beulah, he should have headed off trouble by speaking to the sheriff.
Strips of bright fabric, cut into ribbons adorned the pews, while large bouquets of late summer wildflowers and long grasses with interesting seed heads were settled into galvanized buckets tucked here and there around the church sanctuary. Boards set on saw horses made a long table near the pulpit, and it was groaning under the weight of numerous dishes of food. Even a cake, the baking of which would have heated up a house considerably, was in place of pride and decorated with berries and edible flowers.
Beulah and Matthieu stood just inside the doors and looked at the celebration their friends had put together. "Congratulations!" the room called out to them and Matt was touched to see so many faces from his congregation there.
Lorcan stomped his booted foot on the wood floor and called out in a deep voice, "Speech, speech!"
Laughing, Matthieu guided Beulah through the gathering to the pulpit, stopping to shake hands and receive many pats on the shoulder. When they passed Emma, Beulah handed Jonah to her friend and then they continued to the raised dais that overlooked the seating area. Looking out at everyone, he paused for a moment while gathering his thoughts. Beulah stood at his side, and put her hand on his arm. He wondered if it was a show of their unity, an offering of support, or a reminder that he would need to speak soon. He turned his head slightly to the side to look at her face and she winked at him. Grinning, he looked back at his friends. "My wife and I would like to thank you for putting together this fine party." Spontaneously the room erupted in cheers. He felt a lump in his throat forming and was afraid to continue for fear he would embarrass himself.
Beulah leaned forward giving him a moment to recover. "Since coming to Sweet Town, we have been reminded time and again of what true neighbors do for one another, and what true friendship means. Thank you all. Now, a proper party needs music. If one of you all would run over to the parsonage and grab Pastor Whitney's fiddle, I believe he could provide us with a little entertainment."
The pews were pushed to the side creating a space in the center of the room where people were dancing to Matt's lively playing. He regretted not being able to take his wife for a spin around the floor but his ribs were sorely bruised and he didn't want to push his luck. Mika had looked in on him that morning and said while he may not have had a broken rib before, he almost certainly did now. The strip of fabric she and Beulah had wound around his torso made it hard to take a deep breath and itched something fierce but he had promised to keep it on.
Faces were glowing a little too bright after the last fast reel, so Matthieu took a break to give everyone a chance to catch their breath. He had been concerned that people might be awkward with him and he might feel uncomfortable after his declaration of his family history, but there was no hint of that in this celebration. Everyone looked happy, and truly excited for him and Beulah.
A cut glass cup of sweet tea was pushed into his hands by Neal, who was flanked by Lorcan and Kit. Lorcan raised his hand as if to give him a big slap on the back and Matt flinched. "Ah, just joking," Lore laughed.
Kit cleared his voice and Matthieu's heart stopped. Had he changed his mind about charging Beulah with murder? "What's on your mind, Sheriff?" Matt managed to say.
"While our church doesn't have a formal board of Elders, we feel that perhaps we should create an organized accountability of the parishioners…"
Matthieu was confused at Kit making a formal speech of it and looked at the other men for some sort of explanation.
Neal looked at his brother-in-law and shook his head. "What Kit is trying to say, Matt, is that as Sweet Town grows, this church has grown. We should probably have a meeting to discuss some things, like bylaws and such. And if some of the folks here in town have a problem with you and Beulah, they can just go and start another church of their own."
Lorcan nodded. "Aye, those of us who are loyal to you will keep on attending this one. And it looks like we have a fair number." He looked around the room at the happy gathering.
"Thank you, gentlemen. I have to admit that we weren't sure what sort of reception we would get when we returned after our wedding and we actually entertained the thought of moving away." He raised a hand before they could put voice to their objections. "Instead, we have felt nothing but Christian love." He cleared his throat, feeling the lump returning. "I haven't discussed this with my wife yet, but I've considered sending for my family to join us here. And if we can find Beulah's family, perhaps they would want to come as well."
"It's a long journey full of uncertainty and danger," Kit said.
"Yes it is, but where they are now, every day is full of uncertainty and danger. There are papers dedicating ads to finding family separated by slavery and if we're very lucky we might even be able to find her father."
Neal rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It's good to reunite with family, Pastor. As happy as I am with Emma, having my sister Lucy nearby makes it all the sweeter."
Nodding in agreement, Kit said, "I miss my parents and brother every day." His face grew serious. "I can't control what atrocities happen elsewhere in this country, but I give you my word as Sheriff of Sweet Town, and as a man of honor, I will do my best to keep this place safe for all its citizens."
Another man approached and when Matthieu saw who it was, he steeled himself for a confrontation. He was glad his friends, and especially Kit, were standing with him because he didn't think he could take another beating, at least not until his ribs healed. Beau Jennings walked right up to Matthieu. The other men went still, likely sensing the tension, but wouldn't have any idea who Jennings was.
"I'd like to shake your hand, Pastor Whitney."
Matthieu clasped the other man's hand and and shook, but refrained from saying anything. Was this another trick? A way to humiliate him or take him down a peg?
"I wish I could make up for what I did to you back in Minnesota. I am deeply sorry. While I can't take it back, I can and will go forward in my life with a new outlook."
Matthieu raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"
"I'd been traveling to Deadwood, never dreaming I'd run into you again, and then there you were in front of me, getting crushed by a horse to save a woman. Comparing that to the things I heard Hiram Bell did, it's a stark contrast. I spoke to him when I first arrived here and his reasoning was so selfish and cruel, I was struck with shame for ever thinking like him. And then to come to your church and hear your sermon? I swore then and there I'd be a changed man."
Matthieu was shocked. Jennings came from a time and place of hatred. For him to change was truly a miracle. And for Matthieu to no longer fear Jennings exposing him, or trying to teach him another lesson with his fists, was a huge relief.
Jennings still held Matt's hand, and shook it once more, lightly. "Again, let me say I am sorry, and congratulations on your marriage. If there is anything at all I can do to make amends, you only need to say the word." The man released his hand and backed off into the crowd.
Matthieu looked out over his congregation. These people weren't perfect, and neither was life, but it was starting to look pretty good.
A fire crackled and popped faintly in the stove, warding off the first hint of a fall chill. Somewhere a cricket was singing its song and Beulah could almost imagine it as a lullaby for Jonah when she laid him down to sleep. Thunder rumbled pleasantly outside, rain pattering on the roof.
The baby now sleeping, Beulah returned to her earlier work putting books on a shelf. She didn't have much - just the books of his late brother's that Kit had allowed her to keep - but the shelf Matt had set aside for her was already looking like a little piece of a home she'd never expected to have. She ran her index finger down the spine of A Treatise of Human Nature and felt her heart squeeze in her chest. Her own shelf.
"Will that be enough space for you?" Matt asked, offering her a cup of coffee.
The party their friends had held for them had been a real joy, though she'd had some concerns about cleaning up afterwards. While Lucy was too great with child for Kit to feel comfortable to see her at such work, Emma's pregnant belly wasn't yet too large for her to bend over. Others had chipped in as well, including Neal and the orphans he'd brought home, David and Annie. Soon the church was fit for service once again.
"I'd like to add more books to it, so I suppose eventually I'll need another shelf." Beulah sipped from her coffee and smiled. "In everything that's happened, have you had any time to write your sermon for this week? Tomorrow's Sunday."
"Oh, believe me. I haven't forgotten." Matt laid a hand on the small of her back and she could feel the warmth of it seeping through the layers of cloth. He lead her over to the settee where they sat together and his arm slipped around her shoulders, as natural as could be. And just as naturally, Beulah found herself snuggling into his side. "I was writing while you were tidying up the chapel. It's going to be about forgiveness and how it's a blessing we can give to ourselves and others."
"I think that's a beautiful idea, Matthieu." She did her best to pronounce it the French way he'd shown her before, with the emphasis on the second syllable. She looked up at him for a moment, hesitant, then reached to touch his cheek gently, reminding herself that this was her husband. If there was anyone in the world she could let herself be this vulnerable and open with, it would have to be him. "You know I forgive you for how guarded you were before, don't you?"
He took her hand, turning it so he could press a kiss to her palm. "I guessed as much. Forgiving myself was the real trouble." His next kiss was on her wrist, making her shiver. "I don't blame you at all for keeping secrets, I hope you know. The world taught us to be afraid from all the terrible things out there, but I hope we can be brave and trusting with each other now."
Tears threatened at her eyes and she laughed breathlessly, trying to fight them back. "For a man who denies receiving the call to serve, you sermonize easily."
"I received it. I just wasn't listening until you made me hear." He drew her closer - close enough she worried for his broken rib - and rested his forehead against hers. "I love you."
Her eyes closed for a moment and she inhaled deeply, breathing in the warm, masculine scent of him. "I love you, too." After a moment, Beulah opened her eyes again, her gaze falling on the bookshelf. "The town's going to need a lot more books than this."
Matt drew back from her and frowned. "The town?"
"As you gentlemen were discussing at the party, the town is growing and we need bylaws for the church. Well, we'll need a schoolhouse, too, won't we? The Leonettis have those two young ones staying with them now, and there's Jonah and then two more babies on the way. Children need books."
"You're right. Sweet Town started out with nothing but prospectors and then those of us who served them, but families are growing." He cupped her cheek. "Perhaps, until something more permanent is decided on, you could do a little teaching from the chapel."
Beulah jerked her head towards him. "Me?"
"Karl Price, God rest his soul, might have been well-read enough for it, but no one living in town has your thirst for knowledge or love of sharing it."
She could feel her cheeks heating at this compliment and lowered her eyes to her lap. "Me. A preacher's wife and a schoolteacher. Imagine that."
"I can't imagine anything better."
With her husband so near to her and her son safely resting, their warm and secure home around them, Beulah couldn't imagine anything better either. Blessings she'd barely dared to dream of now rained down on her. Outside, the thunder picked up again, but she curled in close to Matt's side. Waiting out storms was over and she had a life to live.
Other Books By Sarah Christian
Sweet Town Series
A Bride's Price (1)
What Child Is This (2)
Calling His Bluff (3)
Not Always Nice (4)
About Sarah Christian
Born and raised in a small town in Minnesota, Sarah loved the sense of community and extended family she grew up with. After going to college in the Twin Cities, Sarah decided she couldn't live without the warmth of a small town again. She returned home where she married her childhood sweetheart and is now raising two daughters. In the Sweet Town series, Sarah hopes to share a bit of the happiness, community, and country quirkiness from her own life.
Please give feedback and reviews for Sarah's books. This will increase her exposure and introduce even more people to Sweet Town families and friends.
Visit Sarah's page on Salt of the Earth Press with links to her books: http://saltpress.com/sarah_christian/
Preacher's Wife (Sweet Town Clean Historical Western Romance Book 5) Page 9