Before We Leave (Chronicles of the Maca Book 3)

by Mari Collier

  Olga kept her hands folded, but managed to look sideways at the men where Lorenz and Martin knelt. Kendall was on Lorenz's right side, and Marty and August, Martin's two oldest sons, on Martin's left side. Her own son Thomas knelt beside her nephews, and Gerald Plank completed the row.

  James offered the bread to Kendall intoning the words, “Take eat, this is the body of Christ.”

  He straightened as he approached Lorenz and Martin and stood between them. “I cannot, in good conscience, give either of you the body and blood of Christ. You, as brothers in Christ, are living in sin by not speaking to each other. You have both brought shame on this congregation. To give the sacrament to you would be to your damnation and to mine.”

  Both ranchers' heads snapped back. Martin stood, his hand closing into a fist, his blue eyes cold. Gasps and rustlings could be heard from the women's section.

  Lorenz was on his feet just as rapidly, his own browned hands closing and opening as a wild surge of anger raged through him. Suddenly Melissa was mindspeaking to him in screams.

  'No, Pawpaw, no, y'all can't at the altar.'

  He was forcing himself to control his temper as he turned towards Martin and put his left arm out over Martin's chest as he softly mouthed the words, “We can't hit him in here. Let's take this outside.”

  Martin swung toward Lorenz and gave a curt nod of assent. As one they turned and marched up the aisle, their boots clicking against the oak floor, each one throwing open their side of the double door. Neither noticed the group at the saloon watching them as they stood on the porch under the roofed stoop and faced each other, Lorenz taller than Martin by five inches.

  Martin's face was still red, the veins were throbbing on each side of his throat, his hands clenching and unclenching. “Y'all stopped me again.”

  “Yes I did. Go ahead and hit me if it makes y'all feel better. Y'all have owed me one anyway since I got y'all into trouble over my trying to run away.”

  Martin hesitated. That incident occurred over twenty years ago and Young James had stopped the fight by intoning, “Seventy times seven.”

  “Ja, but Young James was right, then. Y'all were trying to apologize.”

  “I hate to admit it, Martin, but he's probably right this time too.”

  “Ja, hitting the pastor isn't too smart.” Bitterness tinged his words. “What ailed y'all with them nesters?”

  “I didn't want anyone killed. It's only one family and the county agent in Arles probably sent them here to make trouble for us. I still say the weather will eliminate them. They can't grow decent crops up there.”

  “Which means they'll turn to rustling. We've got enough problems with thieves.”

  “That man won't. He doesn't know how. I'll admit that doesn't mean the son won't when he gets a little savvier about horses and cows. If I'd known those people were on the way, I'd been over to talk with y'all before they got here.”

  Martin half-way turned towards the street and swung back to face Lorenz, his anger turning on the men who were suppose to be their friends. Instead, they were waiting for a fight.

  “Lorenz, we got an audience. That means he was planning this all along. Young James should have said something when we signed up for communion. I say we wait for him when he comes out of the sacristy and dump him in the river.”

  Lorenz gave a low chuckle brought on by the relief that Martin was talking to him again. It meant the quarrel was over.

  “Sounds like a good idea to me. I've wanted to do that to the sanctimonious little prig ever since he kept sticking his tongue out at me the day Papa insisted on taking me home to Mama.”

  “It would serve him right.” Some of the anger went out of Martin's eyes as he faced his friend and remembered the bitter, dirty youth that had violently entered their lives. Was his anger worth their friendship? Martin was not one to contemplate past actions, but right now he felt he was in the wrong and didn't know how to repair it.

  Lorenz was grinning broadly. “Yes, it would, but we'd still be in the wrong as far as the synod is concerned. I doubt if we'd ever get another pastor through here. It seems der Pastor has left us with one choice. We can shake hands and go back in there and tell him all is forgotten and forgiven. That we're friends again and demand he give us communion. He'd have to swallow his words in front of everyone.”

  “Ja, but then Young James will want us to apologize to the congregation.” Bitterness still lingered with anger.

  “Leave that part to me. Papa did a darn good job of teaching me how to apologize whenever I managed to break one of their rules.”

  The doubt left Martin's eyes and he stuck out his right hand. “Herr MacDonald.”

  “Herr Rolfe.”

  It was a ritual they had begun years ago. Lorenz broke the grip and reached for the door handle on his side when he realized both he and Martin had moisture in their eyes.

  “After y'all.”

  Martin reached for the handle on his side. “No, together; just like when we went out.”

  Pastor Rolfe was returning the cup to the altar and the women were returning to their pews where the younger children were seated as the two men marched back down the aisle, their wide shoulders swinging in the bowlegged swagger of men long in the saddle. Since the congregants filed to the right and re-entered their pew from the wall side this did not restrict their movement.

  Toni and Brigetta smiled at their mates and each other, happy at the thought of restored visits. The young men were smiling, thinking of the missed companionship. James turned, his gooseberry eyes reflecting shock. What had gone wrong with his plan? He could tell these two were once again as arrogant and determined as when they were seated in the pew. What were they plotting?

  Lorenz and Martin stopped at the rise leading to the altar, clasped their hands and bowed towards the cross and their pastor. Lorenz spoke for both of them.

  “We are friends again and ask that you give us the Lord's Supper for the reminder of his promised forgiveness. If we have shamed our family and friends of this congregation, we apologize and pray that they forgive us as the Good Lord has.” Lorenz and Martin waited.

  James considered. As a pastor he had to accept their announced repentance. There was only one other Elder in the congregation and Gerald Plank wasn't about to cross Lorenz or Martin with an objection. He turned back to the altar, swallowed his bitterness, and picked up the plate to return to the communal rail where he bowed to them. Once again they returned the bow and knelt.

  As Pastor Rolfe he administered the bread and then the cup while he intoned Christ's words as recorded in Matthew 26:26 through 29. Then he made the sign of the cross, saying, “Go in Peace. Your sins are forgiven.” He bowed to them. Both men stood and returned the bow before returning to their seats.

  James replaced the cup and reverently laid the cloth over the plate and cup while Olga struck the chord on her organ before playing the Nunc Dimittis.

  Pastor Rolfe was back in command. When the singing ceased he went into a long, closing prayer thanking God for his blessings and for bringing two sinners back into the fold. He then finished the liturgy while the congregation sang their responses and broke into the final hymn. It was perhaps the loudest the singing from the church had been since the elder MacDonald's booming voice had been absent.

  Outside Tillman tipped his hat back. “Well, boys, here comes my missus and young 'uns for our Sunday dinner with Emily and Gerald.”

  He nodded toward a buckboard approaching from the north. “I'll let you all know if anything happened, but it looks like they settled it like gentlemen.”

  Jesse shrugged. He'd been hoping for an afternoon of high spirits over the two damn Yankees fighting. Beer would have flowed freely. Of course, everyone had bet on Lorenz winning. He would have collected his ten percent for holding the money, but now he had to pay them back. He wandered into the musty saloon, the two Tillman hands following. Jackson remained outside waiting for his family to emerge from church, wondering which family they
would be joining for dinner.

  Chapter 13: The Grandmother

  LouElla raised her fist and banged on the door of the parsonage in San Antonio. The deep blue, tailored dress did little to hide her bulging arm muscles, although the despised clothing hid the rest of her physical structure. Something about Mina's latest letter and pregnancy alarmed her. She left Red to contend with the shipping business in Galveston and journeyed to San Antonio to check on her granddaughter. LouElla had avoided visiting them this last year as James always made clear how uncomfortable he felt in LouElla's six foot-three over-powering presence. He was also becoming puzzled over her continued youthful appearance as she made no pretense of coloring her hair grey.

  Mina's letter, late last October, announcing her pregnancy was filled with joy: Joy at finally being in the family way and pride in her husband for healing the riff between Lorenz and Martin the month before. Then the handwriting had been firm, but in this last letter the writing was shaky. Mina simply apologized for not having the strength to write. According to the first letter the baby wasn't due until the end of May or the first of June. This was only the middle of March. What was wrong? She waited impatiently and then banged again, shaking the door in its frame. If someone didn't answer soon, she was going to tear the door off or break it down. What was her granddaughter doing in such a poor, mean dwelling anyway? The MacDonald House could afford better.

  Inside she heard a man's cross voice and then a muffled sound that might have been, “Coming.”

  Finally the door opened and Mina stood there, her face bloated and her belly huge for someone in their sixth month. LouElla had been on Earth long enough to realize how the females of Earth beings looked in this stage of birthing.

  Recognition surged through Mina's dull eyes. “Grandma! And the place is a mess. I'm so sorry.” Tears started rolling down her cheeks.

  To LouElla it looked like Mina was ready to fall.

  “Are ye all right?”

  “I, I think so. Oh, I don't know, Grandma. I'm so tired.”

  “Who is it, Frau Rolfe?” James voice came from within.

  LouElla stepped forward and picked Mina up as though she were a child and walked into the house. “Ye have a visitor. Yere wife tis nay well.” She stalked through the small dining area, turned towards the small bedroom, and carried Mina over to the bed.

  She heard the chair scrape and realized James was probably behind them. In her arms, Mina was still sobbing, but there was no strength in her to demand to be set down.

  In between sobs, Mina repeated over and over, “I really need to go finish the dishes, Grandma.”

  “Grandmother LouElla, to what do we owe this visit?” James shocked voice was behind her.

  “To the fact that Mina's letter twas written by a sick woman. What tis the matter with ye, man? She needs a doctor.”

  “I'm the judge of that.” James voice was stiff and filled with anger. “This is my house, and as Mina has told you, there is work to be done here.”

  LouElla looked at him in amazement. Twas the man blind? LouElla held a low opinion of the doctors on this planet, but most of them at least ordered a sick, pregnant woman to bed, didn't they?

  “She tis in nay condition to work right now. She needs to rest. Slow walks twould be good, nay else.”

  “Since when are you a doctor, madam? As I said, this is my house.”

  “And hers,” LouElla roared back.

  “I cannot permit you to disrupt us like this. I'm preparing the sermon for Sunday and I need peace and order here. If you cannot abide by my wishes, you may leave.”

  James felt he had delivered this in a firm, manly tone. It was then that the fist connected with his stomach and then another with his chin as he bent over, and he remembered nothing of the next hour.

  “Grandma, what have you done?” Mina's wail came from the bed.

  LouElla ignored the wails and picked up James and carried him out of the room and dumped him out the back door. Then she stomped back into the bedroom where Mina sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Ye get back into bed. Ye need to rest. Yere husband tis all right and should come to in a bit. I intend to find ye a housekeeper and then a doctor. I twill be back later, and in the meantime, ye sleep, my wee one.” She bent over and laid her head on Mina's right shoulder then on her left as she made the “tsk” sound in each ear. “Ye may greet me properly when ye are up to it.”

  Mina closed her eyes remembering how Papa always liked to be greeted in this manner and wondered why this custom seemed be theirs alone, and she whispered. “Please, Grandma, make sure James is all right. I just need to rest for a minute.”

  LouElla kept silent about her intentions and left the house by the front door. Where to find someone to do the cooking and cleaning? This was a strange town to her. She had visited Mina here only once before. Right now Antoinette or Margareatha would be a great deal of help. She climbed into her rented carriage and snapped the reins. Mayhap she should try the middle of town and look for the newspaper office. Someone there should know about such things. At least Mina was sleeping. LouElla did not know how to do housework, she was a warrior. Keepers took care of domestic duties, although here they called them housekeepers, butlers, maids, or cooks.

  James was waiting for her when she returned, a black and blue lump on his chin. “If you put one foot into this house, I'll have you arrested.”

  LouElla looked down at the short (five-foot-eight), slim form and snorted. “Ye may do so, but what twill ye do when Lorenz or my laddie arrive?”

  The thought of his six-foot-nine father-in-law almost weakened his resolve. James's hand tightened on the door knob until his knuckles whitened. Then he remembered MacDonald was safely up in the forests of Washington and nowhere near them. It would take the man three months to get here and by that time, Mina would be a mother and everything like it was. If Lorenz were to come, James was certain, he would listen to the words in the Bible, and even Lorenz couldn't get here for a week or two.

  “Madame, you have caused enough mischief in this house. I refuse to admit you and if you persist, I will have you arrested for trespassing and assault.” He closed the door.

  LouElla almost tore the door off and then stopped. The law would protect this weak being, and she did not dare risk being questioned. She climbed back in the carriage to cancel the housekeeper for a week and send telegrams to Lorenz and her Llewellyn.

  Chapter 14: James Confronts the Unknown

  Dusk was falling and Mina sat swaying in her chair at the supper table, too sick and too tired to think about rising to start the dishes. James was frowning, she knew, but right now she could barely lift her head. She clenched her hands when she heard him clear his throat. Dear God, all she wanted was sleep. Both of them jumped when the knock came at the door.

  “I'll answer that while you clear the table.” James's voice was harsh and his words were a command.

  Mina pretended to rise as he walked towards the front and then she slumped back into the chair no longer caring if anyone saw her.

  James walked rapidly towards the door. It was probably a parishioner coming to consult der Pastor or one of the Elders. He preferred supper earlier, but Mina was so slow and he found it necessary to keep reminding her what to do. The shame of her neglect was beginning to inconvenience him. He would need to ask whoever it was to go over to the church if they wished to talk. The smile on his face vanished when he opened the door and looked up at his brother-in-law.

  “I hear y'all are mistreating my sister.”

  It was a not an inquiry, but the statement was mild enough. How had the man arrived so rapidly? It was but five days since he'd slammed the door on LouElla.

  “I am protecting my God given rights as the head-of-the-household. If you have come here to tell us how to live, you are not welcomed.”

  James held his head high at this pronouncement. He was in control, but something went wrong. He saw the grey eyes turn to cold slate and Lorenz's lips tighten; a
nd then the pain in his head started. James found himself walking backwards toward the dining room, the pain in his head guiding him. His arm reached backward and he lowered himself onto the chair, unable to do anything but sit there and stare stupidly at the wall.

  “Lorenz, oh no, Grandma sent for you. Oh dear.” Mina could only stare hopelessly at her brother. Lorenz, she knew, would kill James rather than obey a threat about going to jail. “Please, please, don't hurt James. I love him. I'll be all right. I just need to rest.” Tears were clouding her eyes.

  “Of course, y'all can rest, honey. I'll help y'all into the bedroom.” His voice was gentle, just like when she was little and fell or cut herself.

  James tried to protest, but the pain shot through his head again. Somehow he knew if he tried to rise the pain would be worse. He watched Lorenz help Mina to her feet and guide her to the doorway.

  “I'm all right, Lorenz, really I am.” Mina's voice was weak. “I can put myself to bed.”

  Lorenz ignored her protests and made sure she was safely on the bed. “I'll be back,” he promised as he closed the door behind him, and walked back to James.

  “Just what the hell do y'all think y'all are doing?”

  For a moment the pain left James and he stared up at his brother-in-law. “I, I will not allow such language in my house.”

  “Young James, that woman is my sister and y'all have been remiss. I've talked with Grandma, and Mina needs help.”

  “I'm the one who decides that.” James snapped back and started to rise when he slammed back into the chair again. He had to obey that command in his brain.

  “Wrong.” Lorenz's voice was hard. “Now, y'all just keep your butt in that chair while we work things out.”

  “How do you do that?” James was almost whispering. “What are you? Why can't I move?”

  “Y'all will know the answer to that when Mina tells your child Mina's Story. Until then y'all are going to heed what I say or y'all will stay in that chair or a bed the rest of your life. I did not come here to talk about me. We are talking about Mina.