Rocky Mountain Redemption

by Lisa J. Flickinger

  Bone tired or not, Preach needed to talk to Isabelle and clear up her ideas about his sermon. It was more than that, though. He needed to see her sweet face and know that she was safe. Maybe then his nerves would stop their jangling.

  Farther down the path, the sound of a man’s voice carried through the dining room door. Lou didn’t allow the men to visit inside—ever.

  Preach smacked his knuckles on the rough sawn wood once before lifting the latch. A young man, his pretty-boy face pulled into a scowl, sat across from Isabelle and an older gentleman with a gray walrus mustache. The buttons of the older man’s vest strained to contain his rotund figure.

  Isabelle’s eyes widened and then a look of relief slid over her features. “Preach, you’re back, Ernie said you volunteered to take Horace to the, uhh,”—her glance dashed to the older man—“the undertaker.”

  “Undertaker?” the older man asked.

  Isabelle fiddled with a small curl behind one ear. A nervous habit Preach wouldn’t mind soothing if there wasn’t an audience. Lord, help me. He needed to stop thinking about her that way.

  “The camp lost a good man today, Father. He was hit when a tree fell the wrong direction.”

  Isabelle’s father? What was he doing here? Preach glanced at the older man. The dimple in the center of his chin was the only resemblance he had to his daughter. Someone must have filled Isabelle in on how Horace had died. Hopefully, they hadn’t shared the extent of Horace’s injuries. The undertaker said his entire chest had been caved in.

  “Father, I’d like to introduce you to the camp foreman, Charles Bailey, Mr. Bailey, my father, Alexander Franklin”

  Preach reached out and took Alexander’s smooth fingers in his own. “They call me Preach. Nice to meet you, sir.” He threw a glance at the younger man. Surely this wasn’t Daniel. It would take a lot of gall to show up at the camp after what he’d done to Isabelle. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know your daughter.”

  The young man stood, pushed his shoulders back, and puffed his chest.

  Preach couldn’t have cared less. If it was Daniel, Preach stood half a foot taller and almost twice as wide. He glanced over at Isabelle. Her cheeks were a soft shade of pink.

  “You must be Daniel?” Preach wouldn’t lie and say it was a pleasure to meet someone who’d caused Isabelle so much trouble.

  Daniel nodded.

  “The name’s Preach.”

  Daniel stood and stretched out his hand. Preach took it. It wasn’t likely that Daniel was pleased to meet Preach either. His grip was weaker than Preach expected. Daniel wouldn’t last half an hour with a whip saw.

  As though he could read Preach’s thoughts, Daniel lengthened his back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Alexander, you led me to believe there would be no interaction between my intended and the men at the camp, yet this man claims to have gotten to know Isabelle.”

  Preach hadn’t just gotten to know her, he’d grown to care for her, too.

  “As I just told you, I’m not your intended. We are not engaged.”

  Both Daniel and Isabelle’s father startled at her outburst before Mr. Franklin’s lips worked together as though searching for words. “Lou told me Isabelle would be kept separated from everyone else at the camp.”

  Daniel leaned across the table. “How did you get to know Preach?”

  Her chin trembled. Isabelle was terrified. The knowledge jerked at Preach’s chest.

  He stepped over and turned Daniel to face him before poking him in the chest. “Miss Franklin would like you to leave.”

  Daniel’s lip curled as he looked up. “How would you know? Miss Franklin and I have matters to discuss that do not concern you, Preach.”

  The way it sailed from Daniel’s lips, the name sounded like an insult. Preach pushed the toes of his work boots against the toes of Daniel’s shiny dress shoes.

  Daniel sucked in a breath.

  Yup, the man was a coward. “Whatever you have to say to Miss Franklin concerns me.” Preach looked over his shoulder. Isabelle returned his gaze, her eyes were wet with unshed tears. He turned back to Daniel. “As her pastor.”

  Daniel stepped back and his gaze slunk from Preach’s to Isabelle’s. “Her pastor?” He guffawed. “Isabelle, would you please inform your pastor we need privacy to discuss our upcoming wedding.”

  They would marry over Preach’s dead body.

  “Mr. Bailey.” Isabelle sniffed.

  The sorrow in her words pierced his soul.

  “Would you please go to the bunkhouse? The men need you. Daniel, my father, and I have something important to discuss.”

  The men might need him, but so did she. “I—”

  “Please.”

  Don’t send me away. I’ve made a grave mistake. “Isabelle?”

  “Go.”

  Preach turned and walked into the bite of the October evening. The door slammed behind him. Isabelle should have let him stay. He wanted—no needed—to protect her.

  The bunkhouse door burst open, and Lou marched out carrying a large baking tray. Her gray curls bouncing with every step. “It’s about time you got back. I figured the men would need something in their stomachs, so I brought them some roast beef sandwiches.” She shifted over to one hip. “It’s worse than I thought. They’re likely to tear the place apart if you don’t settle them down. Get in there.” She pushed a thumb over her shoulder.

  Since when did being foreman mean you were responsible for every half-witted thing the men did? “Let them at it. I didn’t take this job to play schoolmarm to a bunch of children disguising themselves as grown men. I’m going to sleep in the storage shed.”

  “You knew what you were getting into. It’s the same thing Georgie did for you. How many times did he come begging food and coffee from me on your account?”

  More times than Preach cared to remember. Snoop wasn’t the only one reminding him of past misdeeds. His chest gripped like a vise. “What are they doing?” His voice sounded as weary as he felt.

  “Will’s burning his father’s clothing piece by piece in the stove. Perley and Alvin are fighting over Horace’s bunk, and several of them are past making any sense.”

  “Any chance you can brew up some coffee?”

  “I’ll do that, Preach, you’re a good man. I’m not sure I can say the same about the milksop my brother showed up with a few minutes ago.”

  “I met him.”

  “Isabelle’s face paled like she’d seen a ghost when they walked through the dining room door.”

  Chapter 17

  Isabelle’s stomach clamped down on the knot which had formed the moment Daniel stepped into the dining room with Father. Across from her, Daniel shifted in his chair before slicking back his heavily oiled waves. Try all you want, you will never compare to a man like Preach.

  “How have you been here at the camp?” He sent her a look that might have been intended as a smile.

  Daniel’s simpering concern for her welfare wasn’t believable. She knew who he really was. She pushed back the memories of Daniel’s attack. She needed a clear head to say what she had to say.

  “It’s been good for me.” She looped an arm through Father’s.

  Father smiled. If only he knew how hurtful it was to look upon the evil man who had caused her so much pain. She should have told Father the truth from the start.

  Preach knew, and yet Isabelle had asked him to leave. Why had she done it?

  The answer was simple. He only cared for her as a pastor, not as a man cared for the woman he loved—the way she wanted him to care. The knowledge hurt, it burned her heart like a red-hot coal.

  Isabelle rose from her chair. She couldn’t spend one more minute making small talk with Daniel and Father. “I’ll see to the tea.” She scurried to the kitchen and filled the kettle, stoked the fire, and returned the dry dishes to their shelves. Anything to avoid returning to Daniel and her father.

  Father peeked his head through the door from the dining room. “Come speak with
us. Lou said she would serve us when she returned.”

  Isabelle didn’t have the courage to defy her father. She followed him to the dining room and returned to her seat.

  Daniel reached across the table. “Dearest, Isabelle.”

  Her insides twisted at the endearment and she pulled back. How had she ever thought him adorable? “As I’ve told you many times, I am not your dearest.” Nor had he treated her as if she was.

  “I must admit, I’m confused. Please give me a few minutes to speak with you alone. I know I’ve made some errors. We need to talk it over.”

  “Errors? You consider what you did to me an error?” Isabelle turned toward Father. “I need to tell you something I should have told you months ago.” Clasping her hands to still their vibrating, she drew in a slow breath. Help me, Lord, to speak the words.

  Desperation written on his features, Daniel turned to her father as well. “Sir, if you could give me a few private moments with your daughter, I’m sure we can come to an understanding.”

  Miss Sophie had given Isabelle an understanding, she didn’t need any other. “Father—”

  The outside door swung open and Aunt Lou approached them carrying the tray she’d taken to deliver an enormous load of sandwiches she and Isabelle had made for the men in the bunkhouse. “I’m sorry I couldn’t feed you earlier. The men are in quite a state, but they should calm down now that Preach is back.”

  Isabelle needed his calmness. She shouldn’t have sent him away.

  “I can make you both a plate. There’s some leftover roast beef and it won’t take me long to fry up some potatoes. I would have been more prepared, but no one mentioned you were coming.”

  Aunt Lou’s look of reprimand was undeserved. Isabelle could have told her that Father and Daniel were coming to the camp, but she’d hoped Miss Sophie was wrong and Josephine hadn’t actually sent a telegram. “I’m sorry, Aunt Lou. I didn’t know they were arriving.”

  “Well, you’re here now. I’ll get the food on.”

  Daniel chuckled as the door closed behind Aunt Lou. “So shy, my sweet.”

  The endearment crept up Isabelle’s spine, she turned away from Daniel.

  His eyes darkened, but he covered his anger with another laugh. “How do you explain the telegram you sent to your father saying you were accepting my proposal? You requested we come and retrieve you.”

  Josephine’s hateful actions were the least of Isabelle’s worries right now. “I didn’t send the telegram.”

  Both Daniel and Father’s mouths gaped.

  Daniel recovered his composure first. “Surely, you don’t expect us to believe someone accepted a marriage proposal on your behalf.” He sniggered.

  Even to Isabelle’s ears, the suggestion sounded ridiculous. Father and Daniel stared at her waiting for an explanation. She swallowed. “I didn’t send the telegram, but I know who did.”

  “Alexander,” Daniel said. “Surely you can understand how much bewilderment your daughter’s words have caused me. I truly believe Isabelle and I should discuss the matter between the two of us—alone.”

  “I will not be alone with you, Daniel.”

  Father fiddled with the tip of his mustache. “Isabelle, the matter is perhaps best discussed between you and Daniel first.” He cleared his throat. “He came here fully expecting to retrieve his intended.”

  “I didn’t send the telegram. A couple of the local girls thought it would be a lark if Daniel showed up expecting to meet with his fiancée. They used the local telegraph office to discover your telegram to me, and then they responded.”

  “It’s against the law.” Father’s brows lowered. “Why would they do such a thing?”

  Jealousy over a man? She wouldn’t bring Preach into the discussion. It would only make Daniel angry. She shrugged. “People do all manner of things. I don’t know why.”

  “Have you spoken to the sheriff?” Father asked. “There’s a penalty for fabricating telegrams.”

  “There’s a topic of greater concern to me right now.” Isabelle wished away the quaking in her limbs.

  Daniel rose from his chair. “Isabelle, please, can we discuss this alone?”

  Father headed for the kitchen. “I’ll give you a few moments. I’m sure there’s something I can help Lou with.”

  “No,” Isabelle said to his back.

  He stopped in his tracks and turned.

  She raised her voice. “I will not speak with Daniel alone.”

  Daniel’s lip curled into a sneer. It was the same look he’d worn after tossing her onto the bench of the carriage that dreadful night.

  Isabelle’s stomach rolled as the walls of the dining room rushed toward her. She gathered her fists in her lap. “Father, I have something to tell you.”

  “Do you, Daddy’s girl?”

  Frowning, Father looked from Daniel to Isabelle and returned to the table.

  “Alexander, perhaps you can convince Isabelle to tell me why she says she didn’t send the telegram. I’ve come all this way, I think I’m owed an explanation as to why she’s gotten cold feet.” Daniel’s gaze shifted to Isabelle. “Does it have anything to do with your so-called pastor?”

  “I never accepted your proposal,” she said. “And Preach has nothing to do with it.”

  “Your lips may be saying he doesn’t, but your eyes are saying he does.” Daniel scowled. “I never should have agreed to let you come to the camp. You were too vulnerable.”

  “Pardon? Father, what does he mean he shouldn’t have agreed? What decision was it of his whether I came to the camp or not?”

  “Oh, so your father has never told you? He consulted me on all the decisions regarding your welfare since you took ill. The visits from the doctor to your home, the fruit cure…”

  Isabelle’s bowels threatened to empty at the reminder of the prunes Mother had delivered to her room in china serving dishes—as though it would make the mounds of shriveled black lumps more palatable.

  Daniel clutched the lapels of his jacket as though he were proud of himself. “The week at the sanitarium was my idea.”

  Isabelle’s pitch rose as she replied. “The week-long bath was your idea?” She’d suffered miserably in the cast iron tub wrapped in cotton sheets. Sleep, meals, all had been taken while lying in the tepid water. The doctor had attended periodically to sample her blood, and each time Isabelle had begged him to let her out. The experience had brought her to the brink of the breakdown her parents had feared all along.

  She turned back to her father. “I was not ill, I was heartbroken.” Exhaustion, pain, and fear had tormented Isabelle for months. It was time for Daniel to acknowledge what he’d done. Isabelle lifted her chin before she spoke. “Because Daniel raped me.”

  “Isabelle, please.” Daniel’s face mottled. “We’ve yet to discuss the matter.” He reached toward Alexander as though imploring him to listen. “Sir, you must understand, your daughter’s been unwell. You and I both know how hard we’ve tried to restore her to health. Her thoughts are jumbled.”

  “My thoughts are not jumbled.” Isabelle steeled her spine. “Father, the night of the May ball, Daniel raped me in the carriage.”

  Father’s large mustache quivered. “Raped you? Isabelle, are you certain? Until now, you’ve never once said Daniel forced you. ”

  “It’s not true, Alexander.” Daniel said. “Perhaps I was more forward with my love-making than Isabelle was prepared for.”

  “More forward?” She couldn’t keep her voice from rising. “I had bruises for weeks.” And the outward damage hardly compared to what Daniel had done to her soul.

  Daniel pleaded, “Sir, you have to understand, I was caught up in the passion of the evening. I might have had too much to drink. I would never intend to harm—”

  “Father, I’m sorry I never told you the truth. I felt so filthy after he attacked me. I realize now Daniel had planned it all along. That night, he instructed the driver to head toward the lake. The extra distance gave him the tim
e to accomplish…” The words wedged in her voice box and she swiped at her eyes before she ground them out. “The rape.”

  “I’m telling you,” Daniel said, “What she’s saying is a lie.”

  Pulling his heavy eyebrows into a deep furrow, Isabelle’s father lifted a palm toward Daniel. “I am speaking to my daughter.”

  Daniel’s voice shook as he replied, “But she’s to be my wife.”

  “I also deceived you and mother many times,” Isabelle said. “I schemed to meet Daniel on several occasions without an escort.”

  “That is the truth, sir. Your daughter is not an innocent.”

  Father’s fist rattled the table. “You will be silent, young man.”

  “The night of the May ball, Daniel made arrangements for Peter and Caroline to give Kittie a ride to the Allens’. I knew he lied to you, and I still went along with it.” She willed her father to believe her next words. “I’m so sorry, I never wanted or expected Daniel to take advantage of me.”

  Several moments passed and the dazed look in Father’s eyes turned to stone. Red patches sprung to his cheeks, his nostrils flared.

  Finally, he stood and pointed at Daniel. “Mr. Talbot, you will leave these premises immediately, and I promise you, I will make certain you are prosecuted as harshly as the law allows.”

  The words washed over Isabelle. Daniel had convinced her that Father wouldn’t believe what he had done, but Father did. He believed her! She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes as tears welled up and threatened to spill down her cheeks.

  Daniel’s chair clattered to the floor. “You will never prove it. We were alone in the carriage. No one saw anything, and furthermore, she hasn’t said a single word about being raped until now. Someone’s been putting thoughts in her head.”

  At Daniel’s pause, Isabelle lowered her hands.

  Daniel slapped his palms on the table and leaned toward her. “I can guess who it is. It’s your burly pastor, isn’t it?”

  She forced herself to keep her voice from quivering. “Daniel, you know what you did.”

  Father stood and brought his face within inches of Daniel’s. “Leave us,” he growled.