Heart of Stone (13 page)

As if coming out of a trance, Jesse shrugged off his hold and stepped back.

“How is your mother?” Brand asked.

“Dead. She died over a year ago.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Sorry? If you’re so sorry, why weren’t you there?”

Brand glanced back at the church. Under Hank’s direction, folks were slowly, silently filing out, heading for the hall. A few stopped to gawk, hanging back to see what would happen. Brand turned away from the stares.

“Your mother left me. I looked for her, but there was no trace of the Langley family anywhere.”

Jesse’s stare was hard, unconvinced. “Why should I believe
you
?”

Brand spread his hands. “Because it’s the truth. No one could tell me where they’d gone.”

“That’s hard to believe. It took me almost a year, but eventually I found you.”

Almost a year.

Brand stared at the youth. Jesse was near the same age Brand had been when Sarah’s family disappeared. He knew what determination and sheer stubbornness it must have taken the young man to find him. He was proud of Jesse’s effort, not to mention stunned, to finally stand face-to-face with his and Sarah’s child.

“Come home with me,” Brand said. “We’ll talk this out. You can meet the family.”

The minute the word
family
was out, Brand knew he’d made a mistake.

Jesse’s mouth became a hard line. His eyes narrowed.

“Your
family
?” Jesse sneered. “The perfect family, no doubt. The perfect wife. Children too?”

Brand nodded. “A boy and a girl. Nine and seven.”

Jesse shook his head. “I’ve got nothing more to say to you, Preacher. Nothing at all. Coming here was a mistake.”

“You don’t know how many times I thought of your mother, how many times I’ve wondered about our child.”

“Yeah. So you say. All I wanted was to hear you acknowledge that you knew my mother was carrying a child when you deserted her. I wanted to see the look on your face when I showed up here.”

“I never
deserted
her.”

Jesse Langley looked Brand over and shook his head, disgust marring his handsome features.

“The truth is I came to kill you, Preacher, but as it turns out, looking at you now, you’re not worth the hanging.” That said, Jesse Langley turned and walked away.

A
fter settling the McCormick children in the kitchen where Anna dished them up a midday meal, Laura slipped upstairs to take off her hat. She washed her face and hands, tried to smooth down her hair.

The young McCormicks were perfectly happy, full of cookies and milk and surprisingly well behaved for a change. After they ate, Anna put them to work washing dishes. Janie complained that it was Sunday and they shouldn’t be toiling, but Laura assured them that dishes had to be done no matter what day of the week it was. When Sam made himself a beard of soapsuds, she knew they were playing more than working.

In the drawing room, she paced in front of the window until Brand rode up alone. He tied his horse to the hitching post outside her low picket fence and came up the walk. She stepped outside to greet him, closing the front door softly behind her.

He looked exhausted. His step was slow, his usual smile was gone. She could tell by the slump of his shoulders that he was troubled by what had happened. She found herself hurrying across the veranda to greet him.

He paused when he saw her. As she closed the distance between them she found herself tempted to take his hand. The very notion shook her more than his presence.

“The children are fine,” she assured him. “They’re in the kitchen decorating a cake with Anna.”

“Are they upset?”

“Curious. Happy because they’ve had plenty of sweets. How is Charity?”

“Upset. Lots of folks are. She said to thank you. She was afraid to move.”

Laura led him up to the veranda where they both paused.

“I owe you an explanation,” he began.

“Not at all,” she said. From what she’d heard, she’d pieced a story together. The young man in church had claimed to be Brand’s son, the son of a woman Brand had abandoned. She couldn’t imagine Brand doing anything of the kind.

But from the suffering on Brand’s face, it was clear he accepted the blame.

He walked to the white porch railing that surrounded the veranda and leaned against it. He took off his hat, set it on the rail. Looking into the distance, he said nothing. She stood behind him, staring at the back of his coat, at the cut of his sleeve, the wide shoulders beneath the black fabric.

Always before, he’d been the one to touch her, to take her arm, to gently guide her with his hand riding at the small of her waist, to lift her down from the buggy. He’d been the one to initiate a kiss.

Now it was she who wanted to reach for him. He was a man isolated in misery. She wanted so much to let him know that he wasn’t alone, that she was there and willing to listen.

She stepped up beside him and rested her hand on his coat sleeve.

“Talk if you need to talk,” she said softly.

Brand nodded. There was a tightness in him, as if he were an over-wound clock.

“The young man in the church—his name is Jesse Langley. He’s eighteen. He is my son.”

“You’re sure?” It wasn’t altogether impossible that the young man was lying.

“I’m sure,” Brand said softly. “He’s the image of his mother—”

“That doesn’t prove anything.”

“You saw him for yourself, Laura. There’s some of me in him too.”

The youth
had
walked like Brand, moved like Brand. He’d even sounded a bit like Brand from what she could recall. She’d been too stunned to take much note in church.

“Can we walk?” Brand asked.

She glanced down Main Street and hesitated.

“Not that way. Around back,” he said.

She led him around the house, skirting the kitchen windows. If he’d been anxious to see his children he’d have said so. They walked through the rose garden and out beyond the edge of her property where the land opened up and rolled away from town and out onto the open plain. The horizon stretched on endlessly. A slight breeze blew, picked up grains of sand and whipped them into whirling cones that danced across the land and died away.

She had no hat, no umbrella, but she didn’t care. The breeze teased the curls out of her hairpins. She feared it would become a tangled mess, but right now all that was important was hearing Brand out.

“He’s been looking for me for months,” Brand said.

“He’s inherited your stubborn determination.” She paused a moment, wishing he would smile. “Are you sorry he found you?”

She knew how she would feel if someone walked out of her former life and announced himself without warning. Botsworth had been a close call, but she hadn’t been subjected to public censure.

Brand shook his head. “I’m not sorry. I always wondered if the child survived. If it was a boy or a girl. I searched all over for Sarah,
his mother. After she told me she was carrying my child, her family up and left town.”

“She left you?” Laura couldn’t imagine anyone willingly walking away from Brand. “Why?”

“Her mother was Cherokee. Sarah and her family fought hard, trying to fit in. I was more shocked than happy when she told me she was carrying my child. I was only eighteen and never dreamed of settling down so soon. My father would have never given us his blessing. He thought she was beneath me.

“I wrestled with what to do. When I finally came to my senses and went to ask her to marry me, the Langleys were gone. Their place was deserted.”

“You never saw her again?”

Laura read genuine regret in his eyes. “I looked everywhere. No one had seen them. No one knew where they went. It wounded me to the quick knowing that I had a child somewhere, a child I’d never know. All I could think of was how reckless I’d been. How I’d only been thinking of myself, not Sarah, and certainly not the baby. A few months later I enlisted in the Union Army.”

He stared out over the open plain again. “After the war, I became a preacher and fell in love with Jane. But I never forgot Sarah. I never forgot that I might have a child somewhere.”

“Until today.” Laura thought of the defiant young man standing in the church denouncing his father before all. “Where is he now?”

Brand shrugged. “I don’t know. The anger that drove him to confront me went out of him, but not before he admitted he came to kill me—”

Laura gasped. “Are you safe? Does Hank know?”

“Jesse changed his mind. He said I wasn’t worth it.”

“Oh, Brand.” She ached for him, wished there was some way to ease his pain.

“Hank took over, got everyone out of the church. A lot of folks left right away. A few stayed for the supper. I couldn’t face them.”

Brand turned to Laura as if really seeing her for the first time since he arrived.

“I’m sorry I left the children here so long, but when Amelia told me you had them, I knew they were in good hands. I don’t know what to do now,” he admitted with a shrug. “I can’t begin to guess what folks must be thinking.”

“I’m sure they’ll get over it,” she said. “Aren’t they supposed to believe in forgiveness?”

“God forgives. People have a harder time of it, especially when a man who stands before them week after week preaching moral fortitude turns out to be a sinner.”

“You’re human, Brand. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Besides, that was eighteen years ago.”

“This isn’t something as simple as my lashing out in anger to defend the woman I love. This makes me a hypocrite.”

She told herself to ignore what he’d just said about “the woman I love.” He was upset. He had no idea what he was saying.

“Next Sunday, when the church is full, you’ll see that they have forgiven you. They’ll stand behind you.” She tried to smile. “Where’s that faith of yours?”

“Sorely battered.” Finally, he smiled in return.

“Let’s go get your children,” she said, quickly turning away. “By now they may have Anna tied to a chair.”

I
t was noon on Monday when Laura walked into the mercantile followed by Rodrigo.

She told him she would be going along to help with the marketing, but in reality she was curious to hear what, if anything, folks were saying about the incident in church yesterday. She knew Harrison Barker would be dispensing gossip along with dry goods.

Sure enough, Harrison started asking questions as soon as she stepped into the mercantile.

“I heard you whisked the McCormick children out of harm’s way yesterday. Is that so?” He paused, cocked his head like a hungry dog waiting for a bone.

“I took them home with me, if that’s what you mean,” she said. That was no secret. Everyone one in church had seen her leave with them.

“I’m surprised you weren’t there, Mr. Barker.”

“We would have been, but Mother wasn’t feeling well. She’s a member of the church board, you know.”

“I believe I had heard. Do you have any rice?” Laura asked. “I need two pounds.”

“Was it terrifying?”

“It was disconcerting.” She sighed. “The rice, please.”

He went behind the counter for a sack and then walked to the bin and started scooping rice onto a scale.

“Who’da thought it? A preacher having a child on the wrong side of the blanket. Folks are buzzing about it, believe me.”

“They must have little else to do.” She hadn’t been there five minutes and already she’d had enough.

“Does this shed new light on your feelings? I mean, everyone knows you two have been keeping company.”

“What are you saying?”

“Well, you know, he’s been seen walking with you. Sitting on your veranda. They say a fine, respectable woman like you will surely show him the door now. He’s got a lot of nerve, misrepresenting himself. He should have disclosed the truth straight out when he came here and applied for the job of pastor.”

She looked around, lowered her voice. “How long does a man have to wear his past sins on his sleeve?”

“I guess until he gets to the pearly gates, that’s how long.” Harrison set the sack on the counter. “Besides, like I said, he wasn’t forthcoming about it. Now he’s got a mess on his hands. Earlier this morning I heard Bud Townsend wants to call a board meeting to discuss his dismissal.”

“Brand’s dismissal?” Laura almost dropped the rice Harrison handed her before she passed it to Rodrigo.

Brand had been right. It was worse than she thought.

A cold chill ran down her spine. If only there was something she could do to help.

She was the last person on earth Brand needed to fight his cause.

She couldn’t wait to finish the marketing and get back home. There had been a few passing showers that morning so the street was not fit for walking. As she rode back in the buggy beside Rodrigo, she happened to glance down the alley between the Silver Slipper and the land office and see a man slumped over in the mud. He appeared to be out cold.

She’d only gotten a glimpse, but she thought she recognized his clothing. She was almost certain it was Jesse Langley.
“Turn right at the corner, Rodrigo, and go around behind the back of the buildings.” She inched up to the edge of the seat, impatient to see if she was right.

“Stop between the saloon and the land office,” she told him. “That’s it, right here. Look.” She pointed down the alley.

“A man, señora. Do you think he is dead?”

“I hope not.” She looked around, then quickly climbed down out of the buggy. Thankfully, there weren’t many people out and about in the weather. She heard Rodrigo call for her to stop.

She hitched up the hem of her skirt and hurried toward the fallen man with Rodrigo close behind. He complained all the while, grumbling how she should have at least waited in the buggy.

Sure enough, when she reached the man slumped over on the ground, it turned out to be Jesse Langley. His hat was lying upside down in the dirt. An empty whiskey bottle lay on the ground beside his outstretched hand.

“Can you lift him?”

“He is muddy.” Rodrigo sounded less than enthusiastic.

“I’ll buy you a new shirt.”

“It is not that, señora—”

“Please, just carry him to the buggy.”

“He smells like a
cantina.
”

She paused, smiling to lessen the impact of her words. “Am I in charge here, or are you?”

Rodrigo shook his head. “I am trying to look out for you, señora.”

“Another time, perhaps, Rodrigo. For now, tote this young man to the buggy. Let’s get him out of here before someone sees us.”

Rodrigo grabbed one of Jesse’s lifeless arms and hefted him to his shoulder. Laura grabbed his hat and hurried after them. When they arrived at the buggy, Rodrigo dumped Jesse in back like a sack of grain as Laura climbed aboard.

Back at the boardinghouse, Laura instructed Rodrigo to drive inside the carriage house before he unhitched the horse. She didn’t want anyone to see them unload their unconscious cargo.

“Where should I put him?” Rodrigo was still notably unhappy about the situation.

“Leave him in the buggy for now. I’m going inside to get a cot and some bedding, then we’ll put him in the tack room.”

She hurried inside and began to rummage through a storeroom for one of the folding cots she kept for families with extra children. Anna brought her a stack of fresh sheets and a blanket and Laura hurried back outside.

Rodrigo had the horse unhitched and was waiting by the buggy.

“He’s going to get the sheets all muddy,” the cook said.

“That’s why you’re going to undress him first. When I’ve got the bed ready, you can carry him in. Dump his dirty clothes in a pile and I’ll put them in a wash tub to soak.”

“All of them?”

“All.” Before she turned to head into the tack room, she tossed Rodrigo the blanket. “Wrap him in that.”

She made up the bed herself. Anna could sweep and dust the tack room later. Although…that was a task Jesse Langley could attend to himself—if he decided to stay on.

Once Rodrigo deposited Jesse on the cot, Laura went to look in on him. It would be a few hours before he slept off the influence of the liquor. No telling how much he’d had. She doubted he’d stopped at one bottle after the scene he’d made at the church, the culmination of a life of anger toward Brand.

On close inspection, he was as handsome as she remembered given her brief look at him. He had black hair that curled softly, like Brand’s, though he wore it long; it hung past his shirt collar. His skin was a shade darker than Brand’s, his eyes slightly almond shaped. Any woman would envy his thick, dark lashes.

She smoothed his hair back off his forehead, wondering what would become of him. At least he was safely out of the alley. Whether or not he could pick up the pieces of his life and go on was anyone’s guess.

The same could be said for all of them.

“He’s awake,” Anna told Laura four hours later. “I hear him making a noise like this.” She proceeded to groan.

Laura laughed. “I can imagine he’s not feeling very well right now.” She gave instructions to ready a tray and told Anna that she would deliver it herself.

After seeing some new arrivals settled upstairs, Laura went back to the kitchen and found the tray ready.

“You want me to go with you?” Rodrigo started to untie his apron.

“I can manage. I doubt he could stand up to anyone at this point.” She didn’t mention she had tucked her derringer into the pocket of her apron.

Outside the door of the tack room, she heard Jesse Langley moan. Anna had done a fine imitation. She balanced the tray on one arm, knocked twice, and then let herself in.

He was lying on the cot with one arm thrown over his eyes. The blanket was pulled up, revealing only his bare shoulders.

“Whoever you are, go away,” he mumbled.

“Sit up.” She walked over to the cot and nudged it with her knee. “Now.”

One bloodshot eye peered out from beneath his arm.

“Stop yelling,” he whispered.

“I’m not yelling. Sit up.”

“Where are my clothes?”

“Being laundered. We left some things for you.” She nodded toward a pile that contained a pair of pants and a shirt donated by the Hernandez men. “Those will do until yours are ready.”

“Who
are
you, lady?”

“My name is Laura Foster. I’m the one who dragged your sorry self out of the mud in the alley. Now sit up. This tray is heavy.”

He wrestled around until he was sitting up with his back propped against the wall. He was careful to keep the blanket firmly in place. She wouldn’t have guessed he was the modest type.

He squinted against the sunlight coming through a window set high on the wall.

“Headache?” she asked as she set the tray on his lap. He took one look at the plate of bacon and eggs along with a tall glass of tomato juice and paled.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“Get this down and you’ll feel better in no time. Guaranteed.”

“You an expert on hangovers?” He looked skeptical.

“Just trust me.”

“I can’t stomach any of this.”

“Start with the juice.” She paced over to the workbench, unfolded a denim work shirt, and held it up. “This should fit.” She draped it across the pile of pants and long johns before she turned around again. He’d drained the tomato juice.

“Now wait a minute or two and then eat the bacon and eggs. You need some grease on your stomach.”

“What do you care anyway?”

“I know your father.”

She thought it impossible for him to grow any paler, but he went gray and started to push the tray aside.

She walked over to the bed and put her hand on the top of his head and held him there. “Don’t even think about getting up yet.”

“Why not?

“One, I don’t want you heaving all over the place. Two, you’re stark naked under that blanket.”

“Please, get your hand offa my head,” he groaned. “It’s killing me.”

“Stay put and hear me out. Please.”

He pulled the tray up, picked up a piece of bacon and sniffed it. Took a bite, chewed, swallowed.

“You say you know McCormick.” His eyes narrowed. “You his wife?”

“I’m just a friend. He’s a widower.”

Jesse snorted in satisfaction.

“I was there in church yesterday when you made your grand entrance.” Laura said.

He didn’t look up this time but concentrated on the tray.

“You caused quite a stir. Thanks to you, the reverend could lose his position here.”

“You think I’m sorry?”

“You might feel justified, but he doesn’t deserve to be ousted. He’s a fine, upstanding man with two children and a sister who depend on him. He claims he tried to find your mother. He says he wanted to marry her, but she’d disappeared.”

“Words are cheap.”

“What are you planning to do now? Stay drunk until you run out of money?”

When he looked up, there was a bleakness in his eyes. “I’m already about out of money.”

“I’ll bet you never thought past that grand scene in the church. Not only have you embarrassed and possibly ruined Brand, but you have nowhere to go. What’s left of your life now that you had your revenge?”

“He paying you to torture me? Is that it? As soon as I’ve eaten, I’ll be on my way.”

“Where to?”

“That’s none of your business, is it?”

“What if I make it my business?”

“You got a smart mouth, lady.”

“So I’ve been told. Do you have any money? Do you even have a horse?”

“I’ve got a little money left. I’m hoping my horse is still hitched outside the saloon. At least it was yesterday.”

Her insomnia had given her hours to think about what had happened in the church, about this young man and his impact on Brand’s life—and Brand’s on his. It was a safe bet Jesse had spent his childhood dreaming of confronting his father. She’d spent hers seeking another kind of revenge, planning her future and that of her sisters. She’d been bound and determined to show the world
that she didn’t need help from anyone but herself. That she could succeed on her own.

But if Jesse Langley left Glory now, wallowing in self-pity, he’d most likely end up a wastrel or dead. He and Brand would never have a chance to reconcile either.

“If I offered you a job, you could stay on in Glory for a while.”

“What makes you think I want to stay here?”

She took a deep breath. “Your father is here. You’ve spent a year looking for him. Why walk away now?”

“Because I hate him.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“I don’t
want
to know him.”

She searched his face. “I don’t believe you,” she said softly. “I think you’re here because you’ve wanted to know him all of your life.”

“You’re living in a dream world.” He picked up the fork, ignoring her as he dug into the fried eggs.

“I’ve got to get back to the house,” she said.

“Where am I, anyway?”

“In the carriage house of my boardinghouse. It’s at the end of Main Street.” She headed for the door, turned and paused. “How about you finish up, change into these clothes, and at least stick around until your laundry is finished tomorrow. By then you might have changed your mind about working for me.”

“Doing what?”

“Odd jobs.” She was certain she and Rodrigo could come up with something before tomorrow.

Langley didn’t respond as he finished up the last of the eggs.

“Don’t forget about your horse,” she reminded him.

She left him without a good-bye. To her way of thinking, she’d already done much more than she intended for Brand’s illegitimate son. He was just one more person she had to convince herself she cared nothing about.