The Heart Answers (Wyoming Series Book 3)

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The Heart Answers (Wyoming Series Book 3) Page 3

by Colleen Coble


  “I just want to get this farce over with,” Jessica said flatly. “I don’t need to impress my dear stepfather or his horrid children. I’ll wait until after the wedding for a good long soak.” She wanted to cry.

  “Whatever you say, dear.”

  Jessica glanced at her mother sharply and noticed her pale cheeks. “Are you all right, Mama?”

  “Of course, of course.” She turned her back to Jessica and began to unpack. “You go on out and get to know your new family a bit. I’ll be right out.”

  My new family. Jessica would never consider them her family; she would never feel close to any of them. Shutting the door behind her, she entered the parlor. Never before had she shared her parents with anyone, not even a sibling, and she didn’t want to share her mother now. She would have to find a way to get them away from Fort Bridger.

  Bridie smiled when she entered and scooted over to make room for her on the sofa. Miriam gave her a disdainful look from her almond-shaped gray eyes and looked pointedly in the other direction. Jessica sat down between her two cousins and smoothed her wrinkled skirt.

  “Where am I sleeping?” she asked. “On the sofa?” She didn’t see how there would be any room for her. Although comfortable, the quarters weren’t large.

  Samuel rubbed his hands together nervously. “Of course not, my dear. You’ll share a room with Bridie and Miriam.”

  Jessica sucked in her breath and nearly groaned aloud. She hadn’t considered that she might be in such close proximity to Miriam. How was she going to endure it until she could get out of this place? She had never shared a room in her life. She would have to endure Miriam’s snipes after bedtime as well as before.

  “The preacher should be here any minute. Is your mama about ready?” Samuel pulled out his pocket watch and peered at it. He raked a hand through his thick hair nervously.

  Jessica nodded. “She said she’d be right out.” His nervousness was obvious, but the fact didn’t endear him to her. What did he have to be nervous about? She and her mother were the ones taking all the risk. Especially Mama.

  Jessica jumped when the door knocker clattered. Samuel stopped his pacing and hurried to open the door. “Come in, Reverend,” he said eagerly.

  Jessica looked up, then gulped when Clay Cole came through the door, followed by Ellen and Franny.

  “Jessie!” Franny ran to her and lifted up her arms to be picked up.

  Jessica lifted her into her arms, but her eyes strayed to Clay’s massive shoulders. Reverend? Clay was a minister? She couldn’t believe it. She thought ministers were studious and soft-spoken. Clay was rugged and outspoken. He looked more like a lumberjack than a man of the cloth.

  Her lips thinned, and she considered whether his profession changed her desire to humiliate him. She decided it didn’t; in fact, it added an extra fillip to the chase. Did a preacher fall as hard as an ordinary mortal? She looked down at her dust-stained dress, and her smile faded. Why hadn’t she changed her clothes? She must look a dreadful sight!

  The bedroom door opened, and her mother appeared. She looked uncertainly around the parlor.

  “The minister is here, my dear,” Samuel said.

  Letty looked at Clay, then back to Samuel. “Oh, dear,” she said faintly, biting her lip in distress. “Please forgive me, Reverend Clay—I mean, Reverend Cole. I had no idea you were a minister. I’ve not been addressing you properly the entire trip.”

  Clay smiled reassuringly. “I’ve always disliked being called Reverend,” he said. “It makes me sound so pious and holy when I’m just a normal man like any other.”

  That was for sure, and Jessica intended to prove it. She squelched a smile.

  “God has called me to preach His Word, but I fail Him just as much as anyone else. Just call me Clay or even Preacher like the men do.” Clay turned to Samuel. “Are you both ready, sir?”

  Samuel nodded enthusiastically and reached out to draw Letty to his side.

  Letty swallowed hard, then took Samuel’s hand. “I’m ready.”

  Jessica looked at her sharply and thought she saw tears in her mother’s eyes. For the first time in her life, Jessica felt protective of someone else. She wanted to tear her mother’s hand from her uncle’s arm and drag her from the house. She wanted to cry for her father and beg him to stop this travesty. But in the end, she did neither. She took her place beside her mother and listened to Clay’s deep voice read the marriage vows.

  Funny how she’d never really listened to the vows before. Love, honor, cherish, obey. In sickness and in health. Till death do us part. The words seemed so sacred and final. There was no way she would ever repeat those words and mean them. No man could be trusted to honor them.

  She buried her face in Franny’s silky hair and hugged her tightly. Her life had changed so much in the past few months, and she had never liked change. She’d had enough change in her childhood, being dragged from one roach-infested hovel to the next. Predictability was her only security, but now as she looked toward the future, she had no idea what would happen next.

  At the conclusion of the ceremony, Samuel bent his head and kissed his new wife. Jessica didn’t like the gleam in his eye one bit. What has Mama done? Her uncle then turned to kiss her, and she offered up her cheek reluctantly.

  “We’re a family now,” he said. “I want to take your father’s place as much as I can.”

  Jessica managed a tight smile, but she couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat. Take Papa’s place? Impossible! How could he even suggest such a thing? She turned away before she could say anything hurtful. She couldn’t stand the happy look on her mother’s face, but she didn’t want to spoil it, either.

  Clay was deep in conversation with Miriam, and Jessica felt a shaft of anger. He snubbed her, then hung on Miriam’s every word! The simpering smile on Miriam’s face turned her stomach. Could Clay really like that kind of woman? She was beautiful, Jessica admitted, if you liked the pale, fragile type. Jessica forced a smile to her face and sauntered over toward them.

  “Miriam, dear, your father wants you to get the refreshments ready,” she said in a sweet voice.

  Miriam flashed her a look of anger. “I’ll talk to you later, Reverend Cole.” She gave him an adoring smile. “Jessica and I have duties to attend to.”

  “Your father said you and Bridie,” Jessica said casually.

  “You’re part of the family now, too, sister.” Miriam took her arm and practically dragged her to the kitchen.

  Rather than struggle in front of Clay, Jessica allowed herself to be pulled away, but she seethed with anger. She didn’t like being touched.

  “Don’t you dare try to horn in now!” Miriam hissed once they were in the kitchen. “I saw him first.”

  “I don’t think so, dear cousin.” Jessica tossed her head. “Clay and I became very well acquainted on the trip here. Didn’t you notice how Franny ran right to me?” For just a moment, she felt guilty about using the little girl, but this was war.

  Miriam gave a tiny gasp of remembrance. “Well, it doesn’t matter. You stay out of my way.” She flounced over to the table and began to cut slices of bread with jerky, fierce movements.

  Jessica watched her for a moment, then shrugged and went back to the parlor. She wasn’t about to let her cousin tell her what to do. Clay was standing beside Ellen with Franny in his arms, and the little girl reached out for Jessica when she approached. A strange look crossed Clay’s face, but he handed the little girl over to her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were a preacher?” Jessica went straight to the point.

  “The subject never came up.”

  Jessica forced a smile to her face. “I do so admire men of the cloth,” she cooed. “I knew you were brave, but I didn’t realize how brave.”

  He looked at her with surprise in his eyes. “I would think you would have nothing but contempt for a minister. I don’t even make enough money to keep you in hair ribbons.”

  Jessica pouted prettily. “Th
at just shows you how little you know me. But I intend to change that in the next few weeks.” She smiled up into his eyes. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Miriam scowling in the doorway.

  Jessica smiled to herself. His attention was important to her, more important than she could explain. But it was just a game, wasn’t it?

  three

  Clay saddled his mare and swung into the saddle. He’d been at Fort Bridger for a week and was getting itchy feet to move on to Colorado. He wanted to see how Private Lester Michaels was doing since he accepted the Lord two months ago. That was the bad thing about being an itinerant preacher—the constant worry about the spiritual condition of the men. They were sometimes like children, like the newborn babes the Bible called them, easily drawn back into their previous life of drinking and gambling. He knew how Paul had felt when he’d worried about the different churches. But it was all part of what God had called Clay to do.

  He cantered out of the fort for a bit of exercise. Misty was feeling frisky this morning, too, and she broke into a run when they cleared the gates. He sniffed the early April air and took a deep fragrant breath of sage and creosote. He loved this land with a fierceness that surprised him. It was so different from Ohio, and at first he had missed the green hills and budding trees. Soon, though, he had come to love the starkness and strange beauty of this Great American Desert, as the papers called it.

  He stopped under a low-hanging tree by a rock formation. There was a cave in the rock, and this was a favorite spot of his to spend some time with the Lord. He took his worn leather Bible and hunkered down on the rock. His Bible fell open to Matthew 7.

  Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again. And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?

  Jessica’s face came to mind, and he frowned. What was it about her anyway? She seemed to dog his every step. He had no inclination to get tangled up with a woman like her. She was spoiled, willful, and vain. And yet there was something in her eyes that surprised him from time to time. Her lost-little-girl quality puzzled him. His eyes turned back to the Scripture. Okay, so maybe he shouldn’t judge Jessica too harshly; maybe there was more to her background than he knew. But even as the thought crossed his mind, he dismissed it. She was just what she seemed: beautiful, spoiled, and willful. She had everything a woman could want, didn’t she?

  Except the Lord.

  She wouldn’t be interested, he argued with the inner conviction.

  Have you tried? Have you really tried to show her real love, God’s love? Or have you been too eager to demonstrate how immune you are to her charms?

  “She’s dangerous, Lord,” he said aloud.

  She’s a lost child. She needs Me.

  “All right, fine,” Clay said. “I’ll try, but don’t expect too much.”

  I expect your all.

  Clay bowed his head in resignation. The woman scared him for some reason, but it was his duty to do all he could to win her to Christ. It wouldn’t be pleasant or easy, though.

  After his prayer time, he rode back to the fort and headed toward Ellen’s quarters, where she was to begin her duties as post laundress today. He stifled a laugh, wondering if Jessica had figured out what Ellen’s new job was. Jessica was so concerned about her own self that she didn’t seem to understand a lot of what was going on around her. She would probably drop her new friend and Franny the minute she realized Ellen’s position. The officers’ ladies didn’t associate with laundresses.

  His heart lightened, and he frowned. Was he glad about that? He was chagrined to discover he was jealous of Franny’s attachment to Jessica. He shook his head and resolved to be glad for any pleasure his two precious cousins could find in Jessica’s company. Some man of God he was. His attitude reminded him of Jonah’s reluctance to go to the people of Ninevah. He didn’t intend for the Lord to have to punish him for his lack of obedience.

  Ellen came to the door when he knocked. She was dressed in an old cotton dress, and her hair was done up in a kerchief. She opened the door wide and gave him a welcoming smile. “Did you bring me some laundry?”

  “I don’t want to add to your work.”

  Ellen chuckled. “And here I thought you’d be my first customer.”

  “Where’s Franny?”

  “Jessica came and took her for a walk.”

  Clay raised an eyebrow. “Has she figured out what your duties are yet? I’m not so sure she’ll associate with you when she knows you’re a laundress.”

  “Clay, you do the poor girl an injustice,” Ellen rebuked him gently. “She’s not as bad as you think. She seems to genuinely care about Franny, and she’s been a friend to me. In fact, I think I’m the first real friend she’s had.”

  Clay fell silent. For all his high resolve earlier, he was certainly failing already. He decided to change the subject. “Can I help you with anything?”

  She shook her head. “I have my fire blazing and my pot of water set over it. It’s about hot enough. Several men have already dropped off their laundry, and I’m about to get started. It helps having Franny out from underfoot. My biggest fear is that she will get burned by the boiling water.”

  “I’ve worried about that, too. I’ll try to take her with me some when I’m here.” He turned back toward the door. “Guess I’ll let you get to your work. I want to get a chance to talk to some of the men.”

  “When are you heading down to Colorado?”

  “Not for a couple of weeks. I want to hold some services here first.”

  “Wonderful! I know Franny will be thrilled, too.” She waved and shut the door behind him.

  The weak sunshine felt good on his arms as he strolled through the fort talking to the men. He held the reins for the blacksmith, Winston Claver, while he shod a skittish black stallion, and he helped some privates stack wood outside the sutler’s store. The men were always surprised that a preacher would put his back into physical labor, but after he proved himself to them, they would usually at least listen when he talked about God.

  He caught a glimpse of Jessica once or twice as she and Franny strolled about the fort under a pink lace parasol. He had to admit they made a pretty picture. Jessica had on a green dress and bonnet, and she had fixed Franny’s hair just like hers. When he saw that, he felt a shaft of disquiet. Would she ignore Franny when she realized she wasn’t a little doll to dress up?

  §

  Jessica held Franny’s hand and swung it as they walked along the path. She felt happy and content for some reason. Franny was a darling, and she was glad to be able to help Ellen. She’d been appalled when she realized what Ellen’s job was, but she was beginning to get used to the idea now. She looked at her own soft, white hands and couldn’t imagine doing something like that herself. Ellen’s skin would be chapped and red by the time the day was over.

  At lunchtime, she and Franny walked back to the DuBois quarters. “Mama, we’re home,” she called. She shut the door behind them and found her mother in the kitchen preparing lunch.

  Letty smiled. “I was just about to send Caleb out looking for you. Would you mind setting the table?”

  Jessica looked at her sharply. Her mother had never before asked her to do any physical labor. Never. She thought about protesting, but then she saw the weary strain on her mother’s face. Reluctantly, Jessica went to the table, feeling strange as she laid out the plates and forks. The last time she’d done this she was eight years old, still living in the shanty by the river. She didn’t like the feelings or the memories the small task aroused.

  “Why doesn’t Uncle Samuel employ a striker to help you?” Most officers employed enlisted men, called strikers, to help with the housework and cooking. Her mother had always had some kind of help. Resentment choked Jessica’s throat when she realized how much work her mother had been doing the past few days without any servants. Did Uncle Sam
uel intend to turn her into a drudge?

  “I want to earn our keep.” Letty pushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand. “Samuel already has a large household to support. I don’t want to add to his burden. It was good of him to offer us a home. Besides, if Charlotte could do it, so can I.”

  Jessica compressed her lips. She was in too good a mood to fight with her mother, so she struggled to keep from blurting out what she thought about her new stepfather. If he was already making her mother compare herself with his first wife, it didn’t bode well for the future of the marriage. And besides, how could one compare the love of a first marriage with a marriage of convenience? It seemed so unfair. She changed the subject. “Where are the cousins?”

  “Miriam went to pick up some vegetables for me at the sutler’s store, Bridie is in her room, and Caleb is at the stables. They should all be here for lunch any minute.” Her mother gave her a tired smile. “Don’t look so glum, dear. I know it’s an adjustment right now, but we’ll soon feel a part of the family. Now, why don’t you set this pretty little girl in a chair and give her some lunch?”

  After the meal, Jessica walked back across the parade ground with Franny. The stink of lye stung her eyes as they neared Suds Row. She found Ellen bending over a steaming pot of clothing, her red face streaming with perspiration while her hair fell onto her shoulders in damp strands. She plunged her hands, red and raw from the soap, into the steaming heap of laundry and began to rub a shirt against the washboard.

  Jessica winced just watching her. How could Ellen do it? Jessica couldn’t do such a menial task if her life depended on it. “Are you almost done?”

  Ellen straightened up with a hand to her back and a tired smile on her face. “Almost. Maybe another hour’s work before I can quit for the day.” She held out a chapped, red hand to Franny. “How’s my girl? Did you enjoy your day with Jessica?”

  Franny nodded and ran to cling to her mother’s leg. “Jessie buyed me a licorice stick and one of the soldiers whistled at us.”

 

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