9781631054617HeLovesMeCole

by Christina Cole

  “All I did was have a couple drinks. I was just making conversation with the man.”

  Still leaning against his son, Brooks fumbled at his pocket. He brought his hand up. The moonlight glittered from the blade of a vicious-looking knife. He pressed the edge against Ben’s throat.

  “I’m not a fool, son, so don’t take me for one. You think I don’t know what you’re up to?”

  “I’m not up to anything, Pa. I swear.” Ben tried to bring his hand up but couldn’t. He leaned into the building, struggling to move away from the razor-sharp knife.

  “You figure to get me in trouble with the law, then take all that gold for yourself. What were you planning to do? Tell that damned deputy that I was the one who shot Judge Morse?”

  Ben’s heart thumped so hard he worried that his ribs might break. “You shot him? For God’s sake, Pa, when is it going to end?”

  “It’s going to end as soon as I have my hands on that gold. Nobody’s going to stop me, you hear?”

  “You won’t get away with it. If you killed Judge Morse—”

  “I didn’t kill him. Just fired a couple warning shots his way. Man needs to back off, let me handle things. I don’t take kindly to threats.”

  Ben’s mouth went dry. He couldn’t even work up a good spit.

  “Let go of me, will you?” He finally got out the words.

  “Not until we come to a good understanding.” He jerked the knife away and held it up before Ben’s wide eyes. “I’m letting you in on this deal because you’re my son. Family matters, you know. But it don’t matter all that much.” He let out another maniacal laugh. “You turn on me, boy, and I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  On Sunday morning, Emily held her head high as she stepped into the little church in Sunset. Its familiar warmth wrapped itself around her, enfolding her with feelings of love and reassurance. Slipping into the pew for the service, she smiled toward her mother and father. A sudden apprehension overtook her. Quickly, she averted her gaze. Would either of them guess the truth? Could others tell that she was no longer quite so pure and virginal?

  Earlier that morning, she’d carefully examined her reflection in the mirror, looking for any tell-tale sign that might give away her newly-gained knowledge of sexuality. She’d detected nothing amiss in her appearance. Each time she thought back to those sinful pleasures, to the thrill of Benjamin’s most intimate touches, her entire body seemed to catch fire.

  “Honey, are you feeling all right? You looked flushed.” Mama swept a hand over Emily’s forehead, brushing golden wisps of hair away from her daughter’s brow.

  Emily nodded. “I’m fine. I was a bit rushed this morning.” She hoped that might account for her red cheeks. But Mama was having none of it.

  “I don’t want you going back to the Henderson place. After church, you’re coming home with us.”

  “Mama, I can’t do that.” The shocked response flew out of her mouth at once. “I have responsibilities.” She chewed at her lower lip, knowing she’d better say something more, something to soften her harsh remark. “You’ve taught me how important it is to fulfill our obligations.”

  “I’ve taught you a few other things, too. Honesty. Decency.” Before she could say more, a small door at the front of the church opened. Reverend Gilman stepped out to take his place at the pulpit. “We’ll talk later.” Although Mama patted her hand in an affection manner, her words were a clear warning. Mama was not happy.

  Throughout the service, Emily sat rigidly on the pew, eyes straight ahead, her mouth set in a grim line, and her hands neatly folded in her lap—by all appearances, the picture of a proper young lady. On the inside, however, her body quickly reduced itself to a jumble of nerves. Sitting still became an ordeal. The little church grew warm, the air turned hot and stifling, and all Emily could think about was making an escape.

  How could she get away from Mama now? What excuse could she use to duck out early?

  To calm herself, she tried to focus on the words of Reverend Gilman’s sermon. God, he asserted, was not the author of evil. It was not God who brought tragedy, death, and wickedness into the world.

  But, where then, did they come from? Emily had asked that same question many times. She’d never found an answer, had actually come to believe that no answer existed. It was what her father referred to as a leap of faith. Believers were simply supposed to accept God’s love and not ask too many questions. “Don’t press beyond your own understanding.” That was how Pa put it.

  Forgetting her personal troubles for a moment, she listened more intently, intrigued by the message the minister delivered to his faithful congregants.

  “God has existed from eternity. God, the father, God, the son, and God, the holy spirit. This is,” he declared in his deep, resonant voice, “the trinity of perfect love, and love,” he continued, “is the highest good in our world.”

  The greatest glory is love. Emily recalled those words. She knew their truthfulness.

  Gilman’s voice continued. “God gave us the ability to love, but love can’t be forced. It can’t be coerced. When He gave us the ability to love, God also gave us free will. It is up to us to choose His love, up to us to choose goodness over evil. Not all men make the right choice.”

  Emily’s mouth opened. She drew in a quick, short breath, suddenly excited to realize her question did have an answer. Of course, that answer had existed all along, just as God had existed throughout eternity. The difference lay within her heart and mind and soul. No longer a mere child, she could now grasp the truth that had eluded her for so long.

  Love always involves a choice.

  Oh, those words held so much meaning! Now, truly a woman, she understood. Love was more than a simple thought or even an emotion. Love was an act, a commitment, a choice to be made.

  As the congregation rose for the closing hymn, Emily’s gaze wandered toward the door, but her mother reached out and grabbed hold of her hand. No, she wasn’t going anywhere. With a sigh, she lifted her voice in song, thankful for the insight and courage she’d gained from Reverend Gilman’s thought-provoking sermon.

  “People are talking, Emily,” Mama said a short time later as she led her toward a far corner of the sanctuary. The two had stayed behind as Pa shuffled off to his usual meeting with the other members of the church finance board. Briefly Emily wondered if they’d bring up that crazy idea of staging a fight to raise funds for the new building. It somehow seemed a bit un-Christian, but whenever money got involved, rules and standards no longer seemed to apply.

  Bringing her attention back to her anxious mother, she shrugged. “It’s only talk, that’s all.” She didn’t ask for specifics.

  “No, that’s not all. It’s bad enough that you’ve…left school,” she finished after a slight hesitation, “but now…”

  Emily winced. She hated having her mother lie for her. Her father, of course, still had no idea she’d been expelled from Miss Brundage’s academy. He thought she’d left the school by choice.

  “…to have you staying away from home without proper supervision is simply not acceptable.”

  “Mama, you’re the one who suggested I take the job.”

  “Yes, and later, I spoke against it. We discussed this before.” Her features transformed themselves into the motherly concern look. Emily knew it well, and she knew what it meant. What Mama said was not negotiable. “It’s simply not acceptable, honey. You can’t be living there without parental supervision. It’s not proper.”

  “I hardly even see Ben. He’s working with Tom. I’m busy all day with the girls. Our paths don’t cross, Mama. There’s no need to be concerned.”

  The maternal look grew more pronounced. “I’m concerned because of the rumormongers. You know how gossip spreads in a little town like this. Whether there’s any truth to it or not, I hate to see you become a target for wagging tongues.”

  “The gossips don’t bother me. As you’ve always said, sticks and stones
...”

  “I know that’s what I’ve said, but that guidance was given when you were a child.” She placed a hand on Emily’s arm. “You’re a young woman now.”

  Emily stiffened. Mama did know she’d been fooling around. “I’m—”

  “You’re a decent girl.” Mama patted her arm in an affectionate way. “Your father and I raised you well, and we do trust you. You have to understand, though, that words can harm you now. Especially when you have such strong desires to teach children. You have to give thought to your reputation.”

  “Teaching?” Emily sighed. “I’ve given up those dreams.” Even now the memories of Nathan Meeker’s death and his family’s capture by the Utes remained embedded in her consciousness. For so long she’d questioned how good people could suffer and die for doing what they believed in. She’d struggled to understand how a loving God could allow such horrible things to happen.

  Now, with her new understanding, she realized that such tragedies were part of life, brought about by wrong choices, by turning away from love, from light, from goodness.

  It didn’t make it easier to bear.

  “Never let your dreams die, honey. You love children, and you’ll make an excellent teacher. I’ve already spoken to Mr. Hodges. He’s willing to give you a position when the new term starts.”

  “I don’t have my certificate, Mama.” And she couldn’t go back to Miss Brundage’s Female Academy. No, her dreams of teaching were dead—and she was to blame because of her own foolish choices. She’d fallen into an evil of her own making. It was her fault her dreams had been taken from her.

  “You don’t need a certificate. Mr. Hodges will give you a basic competency test, ask you a few questions to judge your level of knowledge, and he’ll assign you to a classroom that will be appropriate for you. Most likely he’ll have you working with the younger children.” Her expression grew stern. “Keep in mind, younger children are the most impressionable. If there’s any doubt as to your virtuous standing—”

  “Good morning, Mrs. Phillips, Miss Phillips.” Reverend Gilman’s huge voice boomed across the sanctuary as he made his way toward the door, ready to begin the rounds of fellowship. His fortuitous appearance offered Emily a welcome respite from her mother’s scolding. “How are you lovely ladies this morning?” he asked.

  “Very well, thank you.” Emily made a slight, bobbing curtsy. “Excellent sermon, Reverend Gilman. Very inspiring.”

  The pair waited, watching as the minister strolled through the sanctuary. Once he reached the door, Mama turned on her daughter again.

  “This isn’t only about Ben, you know. It’s about his father, too.”

  “His father? Mama, there’s no need to worry. Ben’s father is nowhere around.”

  “He’s out of prison. You can’t tell me he hasn’t been in contact with his son.” The lines on her face seemed to deepen. “Emily Sue, I’m worried sick about you. Don’t you understand? Your father and I discussed the matter at length, and we’ve agreed that it’s best for you to come home. Tom and Lucille will understand, I’m sure.” Mama heaved a huge sigh and drew herself up. Her nostrils flared slightly with each heavy breath she took. “Later, I’ll drive you out to the Henderson’s and help you pack.”

  “There’s no reason to worry. I’m perfectly fine.” Emily mustered as much of a smile as she could. She suspected it wasn’t too convincing.

  “This is not open to discussion. The matter has been settled. You don’t have a choice.”

  “That’s not true.” Emily’s mind leaped through the years, recalling all the times her mother had talked to her about choices and decisions. “You’ve said there are always choices. Reverend Gilman said the same thing today. There are choices in life, Mama.” A single choice, Emily realized, could change an entire future. Certain choices shut off other options, dictated the course one’s life would follow from that moment forward. She didn’t back down. “I’m not coming home, Mama.”

  She turned and marched off toward the door.

  “Children are meant to obey their parents. If you refuse to do as we’ve asked, you’ll come to regret it.”

  She slowed, then let out a breath, stopped, and turned back. “What is that supposed to mean, Mama?”

  “It means your father and I are laying down the law. Yes, you have choices, that’s true, but keep in mind, choices have consequences. If you choose to come home, all will be well. If you choose otherwise, however, and you don’t come home today, you won’t ever be able to come home again. Do you understand?”

  Stunned, but undeterred, she faced her mother again. “I understand completely. Let me point out, first, that I’m no longer a child. Second, you’re not asking me to come home. You’re telling me what I must do. Third, if you want to close the door against me and never let me come back again…” She took a deep breath, then finished. “That, Mama, is your choice.”

  Without another word, and without a glance back, Emily walked away from the church. She spoke to no one and left in the same manner in which she’d arrived, her head held high.

  * * * *

  The long morning turned to a long day once Emily set off with the Henderson family after church. The twins fussed. Three-year-old Faith was a regular little crab-apple, and several times along the way, Tom had to quickly pull the wagon to the side of the road. Lucille’s pregnancy was not going well. She was constantly ill, and the long drives to church on Sunday were proving more than she could handle.

  They would not attend services in the future, they decided, which was fine with Emily. Instead, the family would gather around the table on Sundays to read the scriptures and study the word at home.

  With Lucille by necessity confined to bed from the time they returned to the farm, Emily spent the rest of the day chasing after toddlers, changing soiled diapers, and making cajoling noises as she tried to feed the three little girls their dinner.

  Then came bath time for the babies, followed by bedtime routines of hair-brushing, face-scrubbing, story-telling, and nightly prayers. Emily wondered how mothers of big broods ever survived. By the end of the day, she was utterly exhausted, barely able to move her aching limbs.

  “God bless Miss Em’ly, too,” Faith said in a quiet voice. She knelt beside her bed with her hands folded reverently.

  That was how mothers did it, Emily mused. A few simple words, a child’s prayer, a sweet laugh, and a good-night kiss. Little gifts to the spirit could lighten even the heaviest of burdens.

  “Good night,” she whispered, blowing out the lamp. She tip-toed to the door, closed it behind her, and hurried down the stairs to her room.

  Throughout the day, she’d thought now and then about her mother and the awful disagreement they’d had. Yet she did not regret the choice she’d made. She warded off any feelings of guilt by turning her thoughts to Ben. Caring for the girls had kept her so busy she hadn’t had a moment to herself. There had been no chance to slip outside to meet him, no opportunity to exchange a word or two, no occasion for sharing even a glance between them.

  Had he been thinking of her, as well? As she lay awake in bed, she wondered how Ben felt about their newly-discovered pleasures. They weren’t really very good at it…yet. She laughed softly at the thought, looking forward to gaining more first-hand experience about lovemaking. With a smile on her face, she fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

  But sleep lasted only a short time.

  The front door opened. Footsteps approached her room.

  Awakened by the sounds, Emily gripped the edges of the bedcovers but remained still. Benjamin? Her heart thumped a hopeful beat, yet instinct warned her to be cautious. With conscious effort, she kept her breathing slow and rhythmic, closed her eyes again, and pretended to be sleeping.

  The door slowly creaked open.

  Emily knew at once that her late-night visitor was not Benjamin. Through half-closed eyes, she watched the shadowy figure shuffle into her room. Tall, but not quite tall enough to be Benjamin. More stoop-shoulder
ed. Heavier.

  Her fingers tightened their hold on the coverlet as John Brooks neared the bed. Quickly she closed her eyes, fearful he might realize she wasn’t sleeping. Her ruse must have fooled him. The footsteps retreated toward the center of the room. Emily peered into the darkness through slitted eyes. What was the man doing? What did he want?

  For a moment, he stood looking around as if surveying the surroundings. Reconnoitering. That was the word for it. Emily prided herself on the few French words she knew. Even now, with Benjamin’s father snooping about and prowling through her bedroom, she experienced a certain smugness at having come up with the exact word. An absurd thought, and well she knew it, but it helped to think, otherwise she might sit bolt upright and scream at the top of her lungs.

  She didn’t want to drive the intruder away. Instead, she wanted to give him time to orient himself, time to begin his search. Emily knew she must figure out what it was he sought.

  Jewels? Cash? Surely the man knew he’d find nothing of real value. He wouldn’t waste his time nor risk being apprehended for what little money and trinkets she possessed. So far as she knew, the man was not a common thief.

  He was a murderer.

  And she was alone with him in a darkened room.

  Lord help her! What if he’d come not to rob, but to kill? Her mind rushed wildly through horrific scenarios. Would he slash her throat with a knife? Put a pistol to her head? Smother her with her own soft pillows? Had he been sent to do her in, to get rid of her as Della had instructed?

  Unable to remain calm even a second longer, Emily flew from the bed, let out a shriek of terror, and fled for the door.

  “Lucille! Tom!” she cried out as she half-ran, half-stumbled through the house. “Help me, please!”

  Footsteps sounded, rushing toward her from the Henderson’s room. Tom reached her first, but his wife followed close behind. Lucille tied the sash around her robe, her face a mask of fear.

  “What happened, Em? What’s going on?”

  At first, she couldn’t speak. Her throat closed up. All she could do was point toward the front of the house and mouth mute words.