The Valiant Hearts Romance Collection

by Kristin Billerbeck

  Ned nodded. Did Owen know anything about his association with Birdie? “Are you talking to me?”

  “I sure am.” Owen gestured for Ned to join him in the shadows on the porch. “Come on over here so’s we can speak like civil people.”

  Birdie disappeared behind the next building, her friend in tow. Ned forced his difficult-customer smile on his face. “You must be Mr. Owen.” He took a couple of short steps, stopping a considerable distance from the saloon. Standing that close to the establishment made him uncomfortable. This is for Birdie.

  “How’s your business doing these days?” Owen lit the cigar and puffed on it, and Ned changed positions so the smoke wouldn’t blow in his face. “They’ve been dragging a little bit at the Betwixt ’n’ Between, I have to tell you. Us businessmen have to stick together.”

  Us businessmen? Ned didn’t have anything in common with the saloon owner. “I have no complaints.” Maybe God is getting ahold of the people of Calico and leading them away from the debauchery you represent.

  Owen frowned, brushing ash from his vest. “I saw your advertisement for long johns.”

  Ned stared at him, not wanting this man to read anything in his expression. “Would you like to order some?”

  Owen laughed at that. “Not a’tall, but I wondered if you know who I can ask to sew up some pretty dresses for my girls.”

  He must have guessed. “I would not ask that of anyone I know.”

  “That’s too bad. I lost my best girl recently, and I don’t have anybody who can make things like she did.” Owen puffed on the cigar again and waved it in Ned’s direction. “I expect to get some extra customers tonight, with all the soldiers in town today.”

  Ned’s stomach soured, but Owen’s face remained pleasant. “I’d best get back inside and see if any trouble’s brewing. Next time you head my way, first drink’s on the house.” Wiggling the cigar, he disappeared inside, the doors swishing behind him.

  Patting his pockets as if searching for something, Ned forced himself to stay put until Owen was no longer visible. Shrugging his shoulders as if giving up, he spun around and headed to the town square. This new business might keep Birdie occupied for the rest of the day, and he wouldn’t hunt her down. She had needed months to accept him as an ally; there was no telling how the new girl would react to the sight of him.

  Nevertheless, Ned stayed alert for any sign of Birdie. Because of the fair, not many places remained open. He sauntered around the perimeter of the square, looking for someone he could join without them asking what he had been doing. Why he was late. On one side, the livery remained open, renting vehicles like the brougham and offering free pony rides. Gerard’s General Store also kept its doors open. Ned walked by without stopping to chat.

  City Hall and the jail occupied the third side of the town square, leaving only the fourth side, where the church was located. Ned’s boots scuffed the dirt, and he wondered if he could find Pastor Fairfield. He spotted Ruth wrestling with a water barrel near the church. She raised her hand in greeting. “Mr. Finnegan! So good to see you.”

  “Let me carry that for you.” Ned grabbed the barrel from her. While he set it up next to the water pump outside the parsonage, he scanned the area for any sign of Birdie. The church seemed like the most logical place for her to seek sanctuary for Michal.

  Ruth placed her hands on the pump. “It’s clear something is bothering you. Can I help, or do you want me to get my father for you?”

  He waited for water to splash into the barrel to cover their conversation.

  “Over here.” Birdie’s gentle voice broke through the silence. She crouched at the back corner of the parsonage, waving them over. Ned saw no sign of the girl who had called to her.

  The summons caused no change in Ruth’s expression. She stopped pumping and headed for the kitchen door, and Ned followed.

  “A friend of mine needs help,” Birdie began without preamble when they reached her. “Since your parents helped me last time, I didn’t think they would mind.” She nodded at Ned. “Thank you for keeping that man away from us. We didn’t know how we would get away.”

  Ruth opened the door, and Ned held it while the two women went inside. A pale-faced girl who looked young enough to still be in the classroom waited for them in the windowless pantry. Her tawdry dress and sad eyes told a different story.

  Ned shut the door, and Ruth closed the curtains over the sink. “We’re safe. No one can see inside.”

  The girl shuffled forward, her eyes on Ned.

  “You don’t have to worry about Mr. Finnegan. He’s never been to that place.” Birdie gestured Michal forward and held the chair for her at the table. “These are true friends, Michal.”

  Michal risked a glance at each of them before her eyes sought her lap again.

  Ruth looked at Birdie, inviting an explanation.

  “Michal met me outside of that place today.” Birdie swallowed, as if finding it difficult to continue.

  Ruth took over. “Are you involved in Birdie’s former line of work?” How she asked such a question in quiet, even tones, escaped Ned. He wouldn’t be able to put his mouth around it without sputtering.

  The girl lifted her head at the question, looking at them with eyes as wide and blue as a newborn baby’s. “Oh no, ma’am.” Red slapped her face as she lowered it again. “At least not yet.”

  Birdie put her arm around Michal’s shoulders, but she kept her gaze steady on the other two. “Up until tonight, that man has only asked Michal to sing.” She patted her back. “She has the voice of an angel. But today he received a special request for someone new.”

  “And he said … he said”—the words seeped out from the cave Michal had made with her shoulders and head—“that tonight I would have to start earning my keep.” At that she lifted her head. “I had to get away. I ran outside, not knowing where I could go, and then I saw Miss Birdie … and I knew I was meant to go to her.”

  “And I brought her here.” Birdie leaned over, pulling Michal’s head against her shoulder as the younger girl shook with unheard tears.

  “And I’m so glad you did. First thing, let’s get you over to the church. Even Mr. Owen respects the church as a sanctuary. Or the sheriff does. He refused to fetch Birdie, and he won’t trouble Michal either.” Suiting action to her words, Ruth draped a cape over Michal’s shoulders before they hurried between buildings.

  Birdie slipped her hand through the crook of Ned’s elbow and smiled up at him as if they were like any other couple enjoying a quiet moment at the fair. They strolled through the front door of the church, which was left unlocked during the day in case someone came in need of solitude and spiritual refreshment.

  As he and Birdie stepped into the cool darkness of the sanctuary, Ned’s eyes needed a moment to adjust. The door to a back room, where mothers could retire with their infants during the service, stood open, and Ruth gestured them forward.

  The furnishings of the room interested Ned. The presence of rocking chairs didn’t surprise him, but he hadn’t expected a mattress.

  Birdie must have followed the direction of his surprised look. “When I first came to the church, Mrs. Fairfield brought me here. She told me that from time to time strangers in need of a quiet place to stay come to their door, and I was far from the first person to take advantage of their hospitality.”

  Ruth straightened from adding a blanket and pillow to the mattress. “I hate to leave you here, Michal, but if I stay away much longer, people may wonder what happened to me. I’ll come back later, with my parents, if that’s all right with you.”

  “I can’t thank you enough,” Michal said.

  Ruth exited the church the same way she came in, through a back door. Birdie sat on a rocker. “I’d like to stay.” She looked at Ned. “I’ll go out with you, in case anyone saw us come in together. Then I’ll return through the back door.” She smiled at Michal. Fear fought with courage in the look the girl sent Ned’s way.

  “I’ll leave you al
one to get settled while I wait in the sanctuary.” Ned took a seat at the front, leaning his elbows on his knees and folding his hands in prayer. God had led him deeper into Birdie’s plans than he ever intended to go. His questions felt trapped by the roof, unable to make it to heaven. He reached in the hymn rack for a Bible and leafed through a few psalms, stopping at Psalm 27: “Wait on the LORD: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart; wait, I say, on the LORD.”

  He’d been waiting all summer, but God didn’t say how long he had to wait. His human mind wanted a limit, but maybe waiting was like forgiving a man seventy times seven: no limits given. All right.

  As he leaned forward to put the Bible back in place, the front door swept open, letting in a blinding ribbon of daylight and revealing a barrel-chested man.

  Chapter 6

  Owen’s body cast a long shadow down the center aisle. “Finnegan.” The oily tone of his voice made him sound suspicious. “What are you doing here by yourself?”

  A hundred different responses ran through Ned’s mind. He rose to his feet and dusted off his trousers in a habit picked up in cleaning his store. “Mr. Owen. I don’t believe I’ve seen you in church before.”

  Owen scowled, and Ned clamped his mouth shut before he antagonized the man. “But of course you are welcome. I come in here from to time to have a quiet conversation with the Lord.”

  “Talking with God ain’t what’s on my mind.” Owen rotated, taking in the side windows, the lectern, and piano up front. “Who plays the piano for your meetings?”

  “Mrs. Fairfield is quite accomplished. We are blessed.”

  “Preacher’s wife.” Owen made it sound like a cursed profession as he walked down the aisle to the piano. “My Ruby’s never played a church song in her life. She knows all the popular songs though. She only needs to hear it once and she can play it right away.” He plunked on a single key. The note rang in crystal clarity in the almost-empty room, sounding an alarm as clearly as a bell steeple.

  Owen glanced at the door to the left of the lectern and headed in that direction. Did the man intend to take a tour of the church?

  “If you’re looking for the preacher, he’s at the fair. I spotted him on the square while I was coming here,” Ned said.

  “He’s not the one I’m after. I’m looking for one of the mares from my stable.”

  Of all the euphemisms for the world’s oldest profession, “stable” was one of the worst, implying that women were animals and not men’s helpmates nor created in the image of God.

  Ned’s face must have reflected his distaste, because Owen laughed. “I know you don’t take advantage of my girls, but I treat ’em good. One of them got her dander up, that’s all. I’m going to talk her back, gentle-like.” Cold, calculating blue eyes raked Ned from head to toe. “Maybe you seen her. A pretty little thing, bouncing brown curls and bright blue eyes, stands about yea tall?”

  Even though Michal had looked anything but bright and bouncy, the description fit her well enough. What to do? Lie outright? Claim sanctuary?

  The side door that led to the parsonage swung open, and Pastor Fairfield came in. “Mr. Owen, I saw you come in and wondered if you needed my help.”

  Owen’s eyes narrowed. “The same as last time. I’m looking for one of my girls.”

  Genuine surprise appeared on the pastor’s face. “Any one of them is welcome here, but none has come recently.”

  Ned kept his shoulders down, willing himself not to betray the two women only a few feet away from them.

  “I repeat, the women are welcome to come and go here as they please. You have no business here. I must ask you to leave.” In spite of the pastor’s mild expression, his presence provided as solid a barrier to Owen’s intrusion as any of the soldiers at the fair.

  Owen took a step back. “I can’t prove it. Not today.” He planted his feet on the polished wooden floor. Pointing his finger the way a marksman would look down the scope of his rifle, first he singled out the pastor, then Ned. “Your preaching is interfering with a legitimate business. It can’t continue. No sir. I won’t stand for it.”

  “You’re not fighting us, Mr. Owen. You’re fighting God,” Pastor Fairfield said.

  Ned moved to the pastor’s side, shoulder to shoulder at the forefront of the battle lines. He breathed in the pastor’s bravery. “You must realize you can’t win this battle. Go out the way you came in.”

  Owen shifted his gaze to Ned. “Your God may reign supreme here, but there’s other times and places. You can’t keep an eye on your store every minute of every day.”

  With that final volley, Owen turned on his heels and marched out the door, sunshine once again flooding the church as his back disappeared from view.

  The pastor looked outside. “He’s gone.” Shutting the door, he walked slowly down the center aisle. “Now, tell me what’s going on.”

  Birdie listened to the confrontation between the men. Ruth had returned to warn them of Owen’s approach. Once the saloon owner left, Birdie straightened from the frozen posture she had taken at the keyhole. “He’s left.”

  “Praise the Lord,” Ruth murmured. Releasing the arm that she had around Michal’s shoulders, she gestured for Birdie to come over. “You stay here while I catch my father up on what’s happening.”

  The two women traded places, and Ruth left. Birdie flashed back to the day she had arrived at the church, as scared as Michal was right now. She put an arm around the girl’s shoulders and pulled her close. “You’ll be all right.” Later she would tell Michal how she had escaped, how faithful God was in providing for every need she had, how God had made her over anew. Right now Michal only wanted to avoid returning to the Betwixt ’n’ Between before morning. “The Fairfields are good folks. You’ll be safe as long as you’re here.”

  Ned was guarding them. Birdie treasured that thought close to her heart. Pastor Fairfield had recently preached about the honor roll of Bible heroes. She would add Ned to the list—an ordinary man who did extraordinary things because they were the right things to do.

  Ruth slipped into the room. “I hate to leave you again, but people are expecting to see me at the fair. If I don’t go back, they might ask uncomfortable questions.”

  “I’ll stay.” Even as the words jumped out of Birdie’s mouth, an unspoken disappointment tugged at her heart, guilt traipsing along behind. When Ned invited her to the fair, she had dared hope for something … more.

  What kind of Christian was she? God had given her the very thing she longed for, the opportunity to help Michal escape before the worst happened, and here she was, thinking about her own hopeless desires.

  Ruth looked at her with something approaching compassion in her eyes. “Then go out and talk with Mr. Finnegan before I leave. He’s pacing like the caged bear I saw in Lincoln.” She bent over and whispered in Birdie’s ear. “God will bless your faithfulness.”

  Birdie delayed a moment, checking the folds of her dress before going into the church. “Ned … Mr. Finnegan, I mean.” The heat she had tamped down swept through her body.

  “I like it when you call me Ned.” An understanding smile tugged at his mouth. “You need to stay here with Miss Clanahan.” Shifting his feet, he hesitated. “God is using you, Miss—”

  “If I call you Ned, you should call me Birdie.” Would he think she was too forward?

  “Miss Birdie.” His face broke into a wide smile. “Thank you for allowing me the privilege of using your given name.” He leaned forward an inch before pulling back. “God has blessed your desire to help your friends. He has important things for you to do, much more important than anything I might want. With your permission, I will take you to dinner at the diner one night next week.”

  The disappointment in Birdie’s heart melted away at his kind words. “I would like that. Thank you for understanding.”

  “I will stay as long as necessary, in case Owen returns.”

  At the door, Ned turned around as if to fill his eyes with h
er image before he waved a final good-bye. Nodding, Birdie withdrew into the bedroom.

  The promised dinner didn’t happen for almost an entire week, but Birdie didn’t mind. Michal spent a couple of days in the back room while Birdie worked day and night finishing her dress. Last night, after Michal had donned a hooded cape, Ruth had walked with her to Miss Kate’s boardinghouse, as bold as peacocks. The sheriff kept a close eye on them, making sure no one bothered them, and the move happened without incident.

  Half an hour remained until Ned would arrive. Michal turned one direction and another, studying her reflection in the mirror. “Oh Birdie, I’ve never had anything so fine.”

  “All I did was show on the outside the beautiful person you are inside—a beautiful, innocent girl forced to make her living the only way she could.” Birdie circled Michal, studying her work critically. Did she need to add another button at the back neckline? No, she decided. Finishing the dress had taken all the money she’d saved from selling eggs to Ned, and she hadn’t even started on the long johns. Every day she thanked God for providing a way for her dreams to come true.

  “I’ll start on the long johns tonight.” Michal had proven as skilled with needle and thread as her voice was beautiful. At just the right time, God had given Birdie more work than she could do by herself.

  “Thank you.” Birdie spared a look at the mirror, wishing God had given her a different color hair. She had to cover it to walk anywhere without notice.

  “Yoo-hoo, Miss Landry.” One of Miss Kate’s tenants called up the stairs. “Your young man is here.”

  “You’d better go.” Michal threaded her needle and knotted the end. “I hope someone as nice as Mr. Finnegan courts me someday.”

  Courting? Something had given Michal the wrong impression, but Birdie wouldn’t argue the point. “You will. God has just the right young man out there.” Birdie spoke with an assurance she didn’t feel, but for this young, unsullied girl, marriage was still a possibility. She tied a blue sunbonnet that matched the shade of flowers on her dress under her chin.