“No such thing. She’s Joe Cumberland’s niece, Grace Benson. She said she’s been living with her uncle since her folks died in a house fire a year or so ago. Seems that Kenny Summers was hot on her tracks, wanting to marry her and she wasn’t interested. He made advances to her and she smacked him with a milk pail this morning and ran off on one of Cumberland’s mares. When Kenny caught her he was madder than a hornet and hauled her off the mare and—well, who knows what he had in mind for the girl. Whatever he’d planned to do to her, he didn’t get a chance for more than some slaps and a punch that bloodied her up. I drew my rifle out from behind my saddle and fired at him.”
Charlie grinned widely. “I never had a preacher in one of my jail cells before. Not that I’m gonna do such a thing today, Reverend. Sounds to me like you were within your rights. Hell, there’s men in town who’d say you shoulda killed him where he stood. There’s no excuse for a man hitting a woman, no matter what.”
The sheriff reached for his gun belt, hanging on a coatrack behind his desk, then buckled it below his waist and took the gun he usually carried from a desk drawer. After checking the bullets within, he shoved it into his holster.
“Guess I’ll take me a little ride out to Joe Cumberland’s place and see if I can find this Summers fella. I wonder if he came to town to see Doc Henderson with his bullet wound. Maybe I’ll check there first.” He looked up at Simon then, suppressing a chuckle. “I’ll bet he didn’t tell him who shot him, if that was the case.”
Simon shrugged. “I felt I needed to let you know what happened, Charlie.”
The sheriff paused, halfway out the door. “What did you do with the girl?”
“I took her home with me. My housekeeper is looking after her, and I doubt that anyone will be seeking her out at my house. I’ll keep an eye on her for a while, till she decides what she wants to do.”
“You gonna let her uncle know where she is?” Charlie asked him.
Simon dithered a bit at that. “Haven’t decided yet. He’ll probably be worried about her. Maybe I should let him know she’s all right.”
“Then again,” Charlie said slowly, “the man don’t seem to take very good care of his responsibilities if he left her wide-open to Summers’s attentions. Joe Cumberland is a good man, but he’s harsh, tends to be nasty-tempered. Maybe the girl’s better off if he doesn’t know where she is.”
“I doubt that Kenny has darkened my church door, so he may not have recognized me,” Simon said.
“Just let it ride for now, and I’ll drop by to see her later on,” the sheriff said, his brow furrowed.
“I’ll take your advice,” Simon told him, walking out the door to the street. “If you need to see me, you know where I live.” He mounted his gelding and turned back toward the parsonage. He’d do well to put Grace out of his mind for the afternoon. He had a sermon to prepare for Sunday and it was going to be a tough one to preach. He’d been doing a series on the Ten Commandments, and this week he was scheduled to use “Thou shalt not kill” as his sermon topic.
He thought of the anger he’d felt so vividly when he’d lifted his gun against Kenny Summers. For the second time in his life, the urge to kill had certainly been in his heart. And remembering the last time such an emotion had clutched at him, he lost himself in the memory that lived forever in the back of his mind.
It was something he’d had to deal with for almost ten years, a sin he’d committed and then confessed, his soul being absolved from the stain, even though his mind still clung to those moments when he’d taken a life. The man had been a threat to Simon’s mother, a roughneck who’d entered their home and had the brazenness to approach his mother in her kitchen, threatening her with bodily harm. Simon, barely dry behind the ears, as his mother was fond of saying, had come in the back door, and before his anger could be curbed, he’d taken down the shotgun his father kept over the door and shot the man where he stood.
Since that moment he’d grieved over the stain on his own soul. The sheriff had absolved him of a crime, his pastor had firmly stood behind him during the hearing that followed and his family had called him blessed for defending his mother. And yet, he’d carried the guilt of taking a man’s life, had gone through the years of university and seminary trying in vain to forget his part in the death of a fellow human being.
And now he faced again the memory of lifting a weapon against a man, of wishing, if only for those few seconds, that Kenny Summers would not live to see another day. And for that, he must seek absolution in some way.
He rode slowly to the church where he kept an office, dismounting from his gelding, his mind filled with the work ahead of him. He opened the back entrance to the church and stepped into his study, taking a seat behind the large desk he’d inherited along with the position he’d taken here in Maple Creek, Kansas.
From his desk drawer he drew forth a list of notes he’d made for his sermon, and spent the next fifteen minutes reading them over, in vain seeking a way to put together the sermon he would give on Sunday. To no avail, for before his eyes was the vision of a young woman with blue eyes and dark hair. A woman who might be sleeping, even now, in the extra room at his house. For Grace Benson had been foremost in his every thought since the moment he’d first seen her, and if ever there was a young woman who appealed to his masculine nature, it was Grace.
He inhaled sharply, banishing her from his mind, concentrating instead on the sermon he must prepare. He opened his Bible before him on his desk and sought out the passages he would use. His heart was heavy within him, for he felt the overwhelming sense of guilt once more.
Thou shalt not kill. Not that he’d done such a thing, but certainly the thought of delivering death to the man this morning had been in his mind. He’d aimed purposely for Kenny Summers’s shoulder, but the urge to lift his sights to the man’s head had tempted him.
A classic sin, one of murder. For it would have been just that. Summers had not flaunted a gun, had been unarmed, but for the fists he had used on the girl. And for that, he’d deserved death in Simon’s mind. And that was the thought he could not relinquish.
There was no chance of skipping this commandment and going on to the next. His congregation knew all too well the order in which those Holy words had been written centuries ago. It was his task to deliver a sermon from a mind that had known the urge to kill, thus breaking the very commandment he must expound upon.
Soon his thoughts were filled with the knowledge of Moses and those who were wandering in the wilderness in Bible days. The words came to him as he studied and he wrote industriously on his paper, putting the thoughts that bloomed within his mind onto the written page. Amid his studying, he spent long moments dealing with his own behavior of the morning, finding it in his heart to forgive himself for the emotion he’d felt toward the man beside the road. The sermon finished, at least the rough draft of it, he prepared to leave his office.
He lifted the Bible he’d used from the table, deposited it on the shelf in his study and made his way back to the parsonage. And to Grace.
Chapter Three
Sheriff Charlie Wilson appeared at the parsonage the next morning, doffing his hat as Ethel Anderson opened the door to him.
“Good morning, ma’am. I’ve come to see your houseguest, if I may.”
Ethel smiled and ushered the lawman into the parlor. “I’ll see if Grace is ready for visitors, sir,” she said, leaving the caller ensconced on the horse-hair sofa. In moments, she’d located Grace in her bedroom and escorted her to the parlor, introducing the sheriff with a few chosen words.
Grace, previously warned by Simon that the lawman might seek her out, was cordial. “Good morning, Sheriff. I suspected you’d be coming by to see me.”
Charlie’s gaze touched upon Grace’s face, and he looked uncomfortable, clearing his throat noisily before he replied. “Well, according to your uncle, his ranch hand is making a charge against the Reverend. Kenny Summers says our preacher tried to kill him for no reason yeste
rday. I let Joe Cumberland know I was aware of the circumstances and asked to see the man, but to no avail, for he could not be found while I was there. I had intended to question him about his actions where you were concerned, Miss Benson. Your uncle denied that his ranch hand had done anything to harm you, but I can see from the looks of you that he obviously hasn’t seen your face. I’m assuming that your black eye was at Kenny Summers’s hand, ma’am,” the sheriff said, his keen eyes searching Grace’s features.
“Joe said the man had followed you because he was fearful for your safety, riding out alone the way you did. But I find that a bit difficult to believe.”
A door banging at the back of the house announced Simon’s entry and in mere moments he appeared in the parlor doorway. “I thought I heard your voice, Sheriff,” he said. “I see you’ve met Miss Benson, sir.” Doffing his hat as he made his way to where Grace stood, he grinned widely. “Can I assume you’re not here to arrest me?”
“I’ve seen your houseguest and I’m satisfied that the man in question deserved more than a bullet in the shoulder.”
The sheriff turned to Grace then, speaking kindly to her, as if he feared upsetting her. “I need to know just what happened yesterday, young lady. Would you care to tell me about it?”
“Yes, sir. I lost out in a fuss with Kenny Summers.” She quickly recounted the details of her ordeal with the man, feeling a blush rise to cover her cheeks as she thought of Kenny’s hands on her arms, of his fleshy lips nearing her own as he’d bent to speak with her and kiss her in the barn that morning.
Grace looked into the lawman’s gaze then, wanting to emphasize her position. “I didn’t like Kenny. I didn’t want him touching me, and I sure didn’t want him courting me, and I told him so.” She paused, lifting her gaze to touch that of Simon, who watched and waited as she spoke.
Charlie Wilson spoke quickly then. “No need to say anything more, Miss Benson. I understand what you’re telling me. Just quickly give me the details of your leaving your uncle’s ranch.”
In a few short words she gave him chapter and verse of her flight from Kenny and the following minutes by the side of the road when he pulled her from the mare. “He said I needed to learn a lesson and he was just the one to teach me. His fist clobbered me under my eye and a couple of other places, too.”
Her hand lifted in an automatic gesture to touch the swelling where hard knuckles had caught her cheekbone, and she noted the flinch the sheriff could not conceal.
“He had no right to touch you, Miss Benson,” Charlie said, his tone harsh as he cleared his throat.
Grace tried to smile, but her lips would not form the expression. “I didn’t think so, either, but he was madder than ever when I told him so. That was when the preacher rode up and saw Kenny punch me. I turned my head a bit and he missed my other eye that time, but just about knocked me out, smacking the side of my head with his fist.
“When he saw the preacher’s gun pointed at him, he was really mad and I don’t think he gave the preacher enough credit, for he laughed as if he didn’t have anything to fear. When he started toward me again, I heard the gun fire and Kenny had blood running from his shoulder. He grabbed up his horse and was gone.”
“Well, that’s pretty much what I expected to hear,” Charlie said, nodding at Grace as if he accepted her words as the truth. “Did Kenny threaten you with a gun, or just his fists?”
“I don’t think he wanted to kill me, Sheriff, just let me know who was boss. He wasn’t carrying a gun so far as I know,” Grace said.
Charlie laughed a bit, his grin seemingly aimed at Simon. “Guess he found out who was in charge after all, didn’t he?”
Grace spoke up softly. “I don’t know what I’d have done if Pastor Grafton hadn’t come along when he did. I’m sure things would not have ended so well.”
“I think you’re right, Miss Benson,” Charlie said. He stood then and nodded at the man who sat beside Grace. “I’ll take my leave, Reverend. I’ve heard all I need to know from this young lady. There won’t be any charges filed in any official way against you. In fact, once I can locate him, I’ll be bringing Kenny Summers into the jail and holding him there on charges of assault toward this young lady.”
“My uncle won’t be happy with that. He’ll be short a man, and he seems to have a hard time keeping ranch hands on the place as it is,” Grace said quickly.
“To tell the truth, miss, I really don’t care about your uncle’s bad temper and the fact he can’t keep his crew happy. This man is going to jail and when Judge Henry Hale comes through on his regular schedule, Kenny will face him. He may require your presence there to testify, if you don’t mind.”
Grace shook her head. “I’ll appear if necessary.”
Simon followed the sheriff out the door and shook his hand. “I hope you’ll cut Grace a bit of slack. Facing that fellow again would just open up the whole attack in her mind, I fear. She’s really frightened of him and, given his size, I can’t blame her.”
Charlie halted just below the porch, nodding in understanding. “I’ll do what I can. And I’d say you’ll do well to keep a close watch on that young lady, Reverend. She’d make a fine addition to your parsonage, I’d say. You ever thought about getting married?” His grin was wide as the lawman spoke and Simon felt the man had almost read his thoughts.
But that the sheriff should be so blunt, inquiring about his personal feelings, was a surprise, and Simon turned a sober face to him, hoping that his discomfort was not noticeable. “A man would have to be blind not to notice her pretty dark hair and blue eyes. She’s a lovely woman and if I were in the market for a wife, I’d no doubt be looking in her direction.” He felt a rush of blood to his cheeks as he spoke and noted the quick grin the lawman tossed his way.
“And you’re not looking?” Charlie asked with a smile that sat well upon his kindly face.
“Haven’t given it much thought. But my mother sure thinks I oughta be on the lookout for a wife. She says I shouldn’t wait much longer before starting a family. I hear the same story every time she writes me a letter.”
Charlie laughed aloud. “That sure enough sounds like a mother to me.” And then he sobered. “Might be a good idea to consider the girl, Reverend. She needs a soft place to land and you could do a whole lot worse than to court her a bit, see if she suits you. A congregation likes having a woman in the parsonage, and not just a housekeeper, either. Every man needs a good wife behind him, and I’d think a preacher man might be even more in need of a companion.”
“Thanks for the advice, Charlie,” Simon said, allowing his mind to focus on the girl they discussed. She was well worth getting to know better, he decided, and Charlie might have hit upon a solution to Grace’s problems.
It was worth thinking about. Not that his thoughts had strayed far from Grace Benson over the past day; even now they were thoroughly enmeshed in the young woman under his roof as he watched the sheriff take his leave.
The parlor was empty when Simon went back into the house, so he headed to the kitchen, seeking out Grace, needing to speak with her. He found her standing before the sink, rinsing soap from the last of the breakfast dishes, and he spoke her name, gaining her attention. She turned to him, dish towel in hand.
“Yes, Simon. Did you need to talk with me?”
His sharp eyes met hers then and she turned away, seeming embarrassed by the long minutes he spent looking at her.
“Don’t conceal your face from me, Grace. I have no doubt but what your features will be as pleasing as ever, given a day or two to recover from Kenny’s blows. In fact, I find you more than lovely as you are.”
She looked up quickly, as if unbelieving of his words. “I know what I look like, sir. I have a mirror in the room you gave me.”
“Well, don’t think for a minute there’s anything about you that would make me hesitate to call you lovely, Grace. I can see beyond the marks on your face, and I suspect that there is a most becoming young woman before me. I’d
like to know you better, in fact.”
“I don’t want your congregation to think badly of you, sir, letting me stay here in your home. They might not appreciate it.”
He shook his head. “It’s my Christian duty after all, Grace. You have a place to stay in this house as long as you need to. Ethel is a fit chaperone for any young woman, and my congregation will be aware of that. Don’t think you’ll be causing me any harm by sleeping in my spare room. I’ve already spoken to a couple of the men from my congregation and they seemed to agree that it was fitting for you to be here.”
“Thank you, Simon. I can’t tell you how much it means to have a room where I can be safe. I appreciate it more than you know.”
He watched as she hung the dish towel by the oven, and then he waved a hand at the back door. “Do you suppose we could go out and sit on the step and talk for a while?”
Grace hesitated but a moment and then a smile lit her features.
“I’d like that, Simon.” She walked before him to the door and stepped out onto the porch, settling on the top step as he moved to sit beside her. His hands fell between his knees as he leaned forward, elbows on his thighs.
“I’d like to know more about you, Grace. Did you have a happy childhood? Were your parents young?”
“I was probably spoiled,” she said after a moment’s thought. “I was all they had and my father was good to both my mother and me. He had a hardware business, and he and my mother were popular with the folks around town. My father was a kind man, with a good word for everyone, and my mother was happy with him. Once I graduated school, I thought about getting a job as a clerk in the local emporium, but my father said he’d rather have me at home, helping Mama with the housework and such.”
“Did your parents take you to church?” Simon asked, curious as to her religious background.
“Oh, yes, I went to Sunday school and church alike. And to Vesper services on Sunday nights. Mama sang in the choir and Daddy was so proud of her.” Her voice caught on the final words she spoke, and Simon caught a glimpse of tears on her cheek.
Saving Grace Page 3