Once she was alone, he walked over to her, leaned in to kiss her cheek, and asked, "How has your day been, so far?"
"All right, I suppose."
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing... exactly."
"Margaret, what happened?"
"I told you, nothing," she insisted, while avoiding making eye contact.
"I'll tell you what happened," Eva said, as she came over and joined them. "That woman, the new minister's wife, Mrs. Wright, came in. And, she wasn't particularly nice. She wasn't even polite."
"So I've heard," Gus said. Then, taking Meg's hand, he repeated, "Why don't you tell me what happened?"
"Nothing." And when he scoffed at her, she said, "No. Really. Nothing. Although, she did imply that there was something not right about the way we married."
"But, I told you she was saying that yesterday."
"I know. But I never expected the woman to come in and say it to my face."
"I don't know why not. From what Neil told me, her husband insulted you and me, and Miranda and the girls. Eventually, Neil got so angry he punched the man in the nose. He thinks he might have even broken it. If truth be told, I believe he hopes he did. And after I hear how his wife has upset you, I hope so, as well."
"Punched him? Broke his nose? But why? After all that, what could the man possibly have said to make him strike him?"
"He said the best outcome for the girls would be if they and their babies died in childbirth."
Eva's jaw dropped. While Meg sat down hard on the nearest chair. "That's awful!" Then, after a minute, she rallied, and with a shy smile, asked, "Are we sure my father hasn't shown up with this mean woman pretending to be his wife?"
This made Gus smile. "Surely, he wouldn't change his name and remarry, just to sneak up on us? Would he?"
"I don't believe so," she answered. "But..." she paused, pretending to consider the idea, before she insisted, "No! No, he wouldn't do that. He'd never leave Samuel."
"Well, that's a relief," Gus said. "I have some things to take care of in town that will take a couple hours. Since I'm here, do you think you could leave a bit early? I thought we might go visit Miranda and the girls."
"I'd love that. I need to make sure I don't have any other appointments, but I—"
The ring at the door interrupted her. They both looked up, to find a tall, thin, and sour looking stranger stalking towards them. Meg let out a soft sigh, and she was almost sure she heard her husband curse in Danish beneath his breath.
It was then she realized who this man must be.
He came up to them, uncomfortably close in her opinion, and scowled. Then he spoke. "Are you Mr. and Mrs. Gunderson?" he asked, in a contemptuous voice.
Gus shouldered his way forward a bit, maneuvering until he was between Meg and the man, before he answered, "Yes. How can we help you?"
Margaret was amazed at how calm and in control he sounded. And then...
"I'll tell you how you can help me. My wife, against her better judgment, I might add, came here to try to support another of our new town's businesses. And, she was first verbally abused, and then summarily dismissed."
"That's not quite the way I heard it. Both Eva and my wife said it was your wife who was abusive," Gus retorted. "In fact, from what I've heard from others, it seems you and your wife make a habit of being rude and... what did you accuse Meg of... oh yes... abusive."
"What abuse? I admit, we have been questioning people about your alleged wedding—"
"You see, you just did it again. Alleged wedding? We were most certainly married by Reverend Cleary, the minister at the time, and the ceremony was duly witnessed by Dr. Thorne and Neil Stratton. If you'd bothered to look in the church registry, you would have seen it."
"Oh, I've seen what you purport to be the recording of your marriage. But it's only a few scribbled lines of barely legible writing."
"First, in case this fact has somehow eluded you until now, that is what church registries are kept for, the recording of marriages, births and deaths.
"Second, could you please explain to me why anyone would fake a marriage? It isn't as if we hid the marriage when we came back from our abbreviated wedding trip. In fact, Eva's mother, and the doctor and Neil told people about it, probably as soon as our train pulled out of town."
"I have no idea what drives people to deception—"
"What deception?" Gus asked.
Meg could hear his volume rising, his tone becoming aggressive, and knew his temper was threatening to explode. So she tried to intervene, saying, "Really, Reverend Wright, we planned to marry in late January, but when Reverend Cleary announced he was leaving town, we just moved the date up. There was simply no time to plan a fancy wedding, even if we'd ever intended on having one—a fancy wedding—that is.
"Besides, with everything that happened, and what was still to come, we felt it wasn't really the time for a party."
"Why? What was 'still to come'?" Reverend Wright asked.
"The trial for those people who held those poor girls hostage for several months. The girls were also suffering from not having the opium they'd been fed to control them. And, then... they needed to adjust to the fact they were both going to have babies," Meg said in a sweet, guileless voice.
"This is just more prevaricating about how decadent and jaded this town has become. These 'girls' you speak of were prostitutes. They lived in a brothel. They took opium regularly. And, now they are both about to drop bastards."
"They didn't take opium, it was force fed to them. They were orphans who were hired to work in a non-existent laundry. Five girls, ages twelve to seventeen, went into the brothel, but only two came out alive. And, since they are young and fairly healthy, aside from the opium addiction, they were regularly used sexually. It's no surprise they're carrying children.
"But none of this was their fault. They did nothing except do what was necessary to stay alive," Meg ended. No one, not even her father she hoped, could not help but see the truth of what she'd said. Or, place blame on the girls.
"They should have taken a lesson from the other girls and died!"
As Meg felt the blood drain from her face, Eva staggered back, stunned, as Gus' fist slammed into Reverend Wright's mouth. Then, he grabbed him by the shoulder of his coat, dragged him over to the door, opened it, and tossed him out onto the porch, before banging the door shut.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It was lunchtime, and Frank was just about to leave for the restaurant, when the door to the office opened. He looked up to find Reverend Wright entering, clutching a handkerchief, this time to his mouth.
The sheriff turned, went to the far side of his desk and sat down, as he indicated for the minister to take the chair in front of it.
Then, after he just stared at the man, shaking his head for several moments, he asked, "Who did you antagonize this time?"
Wright lowered the bloody handkerchief, and asked, petulantly, "That's all you have to say?"
"That's really all there is to say."
"It was Gunderson. And I want him to be—"
"Let me guess," Dunkirk answered. "You want him arrested."
"Exactly."
"What did you say this time?"
"Why do you automatically assume that I said or did anything wrong?"
"Because I've met you."
"You know, I think that's absolutely uncalled for. After all, you're a public servant and—"
"Aren't you supposed to serve the public, as well?" Frank asked.
"I'm supposed to serve my parishioners. Not the public, in general."
"I always thought that your parishioners were made up from the public—in general."
"You aren't going to do anything about this either, are you?"
"No, I'm not. I figure, eventually, you'll learn to control your mouth, and begin to establish yourself in the community, as the new minister, and not some prophet. Have a good afternoon."
"Wait! I demand you deal with this
. I'm being harassed, and it's your duty to protect me."
"I've tried to protect you. But, since you aren't quite hearing what I'm saying, I'll try it again, in smaller, easier to digest, words. 'Stop... criticizing... people'. But, more importantly, stop the gossiping about people of good standing in the community. Especially, when you don't know any of them or any facts about them."
"And if I don't?"
"At some point, sooner or later, someone is going to sue you for slander. And, since I've heard some of the piffle you and your wife have been spreading everywhere, directly from your own mouths and not others, you had better come to that realization it will be sooner rather than later."
"Really?"
"Really! I've overheard people at the restaurant discussing what they've heard from you two, a man in back of me at the bank was telling the man behind him of your theories concerning the sudden marriage between Meg and Gus.
"Lord, man! One of the drunks I arrested last Saturday night was so anxious to spread the gossip he'd heard—from your wife, evidently—from what he told me, that he didn't seem to either realize or care about being arrested.
"If you are interested in remaining here, and of having any standing in the community, you had better think about what you say, before you say it. Or, you won't have a job." He went quiet for several minutes. Then he asked, "Isn't there some superior that could counsel you?"
"I'm not the one who needs counseling!" Wright screamed, before he marched out, muttering a solid stream of curses under his breath.
Frank was shocked to think that a man of the cloth even knew some of the words he was pretty sure he'd heard.
*****
Things seemed to quiet down for a while and Frank actually thought he might have gotten through to the man. Even if he did know, in his heart, he was just dreaming.
Of course, Wright's tirades about the town's swift decent into hell were a recurrent theme in his sermons. As was the horrendous influence those females had on everyone. The minister also made the most of his broken nose and split lip. He continued to insist that this tendency to violence was the clear and direct result of the community's acceptance of 'those women'.
One week passed, and there were no further incidents, at least of bodily harm, against Wright. Easter came and went. And again, Frank heard nothing.
But of course, he knew that peace and harmony, even uneasy as it was, wouldn't last.
*****
It was the last week of March and things seemed to be going well. The first Sunday after Easter, Kathy woke up feeling anxious, and it soon became evident her labor had begun. Jake took Lynn into town when he went to fetch the doctor.
By the time Victoria arrived, Kit was walking Kathy around the bedroom, while Miranda prepared the bed, Colleen gathered up extra sheets and towels, baby clothes, and the cradle. And once Jake was sure the ladies didn't need him to do anything, he filled pots and pans with water. No one had asked him to do this, and he didn't understand why he was doing it. It just seemed that this was the thing men were supposed to do.
Kathy's labor progressed smoothly, and when the doctor told them to, Kit and Colleen sat on either side of the foot of the bed and braced Kathy's legs against their respective shoulders. Miranda and Victoria were pleased with the way Kathy dealt with her labor pains. And, by early afternoon, she had had her baby, a boy she'd named Jacob, after her father. Victoria declared them both in excellent health.
However, when Kathy announced she wanted to take him to town as soon as possible, Victoria put her foot down. She insisted that Jacob needed to be a bit older for excursions. But, promised she'd let the new mother know when the newborn was old enough to go into town.
This led to another lengthy discussion about returning to church. It had become a recurring theme of dinner conversation.
While the older women were apprehensive about this, Kathy and Lynn were adamant. Not only did they want to see people, but to show off Jacob.
None of the ladies were at all sure this was a good idea. But, they were not able to sway the girls' feelings. They understood how the girls needed to see and speak to other people. And, of course, there was the long promised treat of eating in the hotel restaurant. However, Kathy did agree to wait until Victoria declared Jacob old enough to be around other people.
One afternoon, as Miranda was standing at the kitchen window, washing dishes, she saw a buggy pull up to the front of the house and stop. The woman remained primly seated, while a strange man stood up and yelled out, "Hello!" before he leaped from the buggy seat to the ground.
Miranda stepped onto the porch her hands up above her eyes against the sun, in the hope of getting a better look at the man. Of course, she already had a pretty good notion who he was. She could feel Colleen standing close behind her, trying to get a look of her own.
Miranda continued to shield her eyes from the sun squinting, and finally answered, "Yes? Do I know you?"
"You should. In fact, you would if you ever came to church. I am the new minister, the Reverend Harold Wright. I've been here for two months or more, now.
"I was a bit concerned about you, when you, all of you, failed to even take part in Easter services. So, I drove out to introduce myself and my wife and discover why you all have been missing church."
"Yes, well we've been a little busy around here," Miranda answered. "And, we still are—busy—that is. We have some young ladies here who haven't been particularly well."
Then Colleen moved forward, and added, "I'm sure that when and if the girls are ready to go back to church, we'll take them. However, surely, it is their decision."
"I don't see it that way," the strange man stated flatly. "Everyone should attend church. And, children, especially those who've strayed from the path of righteousness, certainly shouldn't get to choose. Actually, the very fact you believe they should be allowed to decide for themselves shows me how very much you need my influence and teachings, as well."
"This is still America, isn't it?" the younger woman asked, over Miranda's shoulder.
"Yes, it is. America—a country solidly founded on Christian values and ethics. Which, of course, includes a strong belief in God," the man answered.
The skeletal woman still sitting in the buggy, called out, "All people—especially young people, need to be taught about Him."
"Yes, what you said is true," Colleen argued, "but they don't need to have the gospel browbeaten into them."
Then Miranda added, "And they certainly don't deserve to be called 'whores', or their babies 'bastards'!"
"How dare you speak to my husband like that."
With a scowl, Miranda moved even closer to the edge of the porch and eyed them critically. "I remember you," she said harshly, as she gestured towards the woman. "You are that unpleasant woman from the mercantile, the one who was saying those horrible, scandalous things."
Both Colleen and the reverend turned their attention to the woman. And her husband asked, "What is this woman talking about, my dear?"
"I was sure I spoke to you about it at the time, Harold."
"I'm assuming," Miranda began, "that you aren't here to try to gather more parishioners. Or, at least, that's not the only reason. So, before you continue on with this drivel, what is the real reason you're here? What is it you want?"
"As a matter of fact, there is another more salient reason for our trip out here. I, that is, we, came to take the baby I heard was born to one of those whores. It took a bit of work, but I finally found a God-fearing family willing to take the bastard in and raise him in a wholesome family environment."
*****
Colleen cast a quick glance at Miranda, whose color had morphed from red to purple, but now had taken on an absolutely ghostly white appearance, along with a most unhealthy, waxy sheen. And, for a moment, Colleen feared she might have some sort of fit, or something.
Swallowing hard, Miranda said in a surprisingly soft tone, "First of all, Reverend Wright, there are no whores or bastards here. And,
if you believe otherwise, you should turn your buggy around and leave, now. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes... no... Well, perhaps we'll have to agree to disagree for the time being," the man answered, curtly, which Colleen felt was a strange tone for someone proposing a compromise.
"No. I don't think we'll agree to disagree. Now, or ever. So, just ride on back to town.
"Perhaps, you should take the time to get to know your parishioners before you go around talking about them." She made a shooing motion, and repeated, "Go along, get going."
"I can't leave without fetching the child. The family I've found is most anxious to have him." Then, after a short pause, added, "It is a boy, isn't it? They particularly want a boy."
"I don't care what they want," Miranda said. "Now, I believe the best thing for you to do is exactly what I said a moment ago, turn your buggy around and leave. You aren't taking Jacob, now or ever!"
"I am here for the child," the man repeated slowly, but more loudly. "As the pastor of this flock, no matter how far afield some may have strayed, it is my duty to care for you all. And, that often includes making hard choices for some of you."
*****
Miranda heard Kathy approach the door. The older woman gave Colleen a meaningful look, and she moved around Miranda and bolted off toward the barn.
In the meantime, Miranda descended from the porch. She and the minister continued to glare at one another, while maintaining an uncomfortable silence.
The door opened again and Kathy peered out, asking, "Is there something wrong?"
"No, dear. Go back to Jacob. Colleen and I will be back inside in a moment."
"Yes, ma'am," was all the girl said, before stepping back and closing the door. But Miranda could feel the child peeping though the kitchen curtain.
She was about to tell their unwanted guests to leave, again, when Colleen came back across the yard, closely followed by Jake.
Colleen scooted past the buggy and back up onto the porch. But, Jake walked up to the man and said, "Sir, I believe the lady has asked you to leave more than once. And, if you are a man of God, as you claim to be, I can't imagine why you would force yourself, or your beliefs on Mrs. Hendriksen. Or," Jake finished, "anyone else."
Miranda Takes a Stand Page 19