Lady of Light (29 page)

Her heart sank. Somehow, she doubted that this man standing before her had any respect for the clergy, or would defer to it in any way. Still, the priest
was
a witness, and maybe just the distraction she needed.

“Good day to you, Reverend Starr,” Claire called, even if her voice did come out as little more than a hoarse croak. “I was planning on paying your aunt a wee visit, just as soon as Mr. Gates returns with my supplies.”

At her words, Brody Gerard turned slowly to face the Reverend Starr. From her position to one side of the dark-haired man, she could see the expressions change on the priest’s face from one of mild surprise, to a dawning awareness of the situation, to a firm, unyielding resolve. Apprehension filled her. What had she drawn Noah Starr into?

“Why, hello, Brody. I’d heard talk you’d returned to Grand View,” Noah said quietly. “Just passing through, or looking to find new employment here?”

Brody shrugged. “Can’t say as how I’ve decided just yet. Don’t think Sadie will take me back, do you?”

“Miss Fleming isn’t known for her kind or forgiving nature, especially toward you since you robbed her.” The young priest met the taller man’s stare. “But then, after your time in prison, I had hoped you’d have learned your lesson—decided maybe to take up more respectable employment than working as a bodyguard at a bordello.”

“So you think a man like me can change his ways, do you, Padre?”

A faint smile touched Noah’s lips. “Yes, I do.”

“Well, maybe I can, and maybe I can’t.” Brody leered over his shoulder at Claire. “I don’t aim to begin today, though.” He turned back to the priest. “I suggest you do the smart thing and leave the way you came. This pretty lady and I have some unfinished business.”

“Now what would be the point of that?” Noah quietly demanded. “You heard Mrs. MacKay say she was heading over to the rectory after she was done here. I think I’ll just wait on her, and escort her there.”

“And what if I tell you I’ll walk her there later myself?”

Noah leaned over and met Claire’s gaze. “Would you like Mr. Gerard or me to walk you back, Mrs. MacKay?”

“Och, you, of course, Father Starr,” she choked out. “As a matter of fact, I had a few things I wished to discuss with you, so it’d be a perfect opportunity to do so.”

“Well, I guess it’s settled then, isn’t it?” The Reverend Starr straightened and looked back at Brody. “The lady would find it more convenient to accompany me.”

Claire could see the big man’s hands fist at his sides, and his shoulders hunch. For a terrified instant, she feared he meant to attack Noah Starr. Then, with a shuffle of feet and a clatter of metal containers, Mr. Gates emerged from the back room.

“Here’s the coffee and tea you asked for, Mrs. MacKay,” the store’s proprietor said. “I’m still looking for the—” As he caught sight of the three of them standing there, a shaggy gray brow arched in puzzlement. “Well, howdy do, Reverend Starr,” he called out as he recognized Noah. “And who’s your friend? Can’t say as how I—”

Brody Gerard shot him a seething look over his shoulder. Mr. Gates stopped short and blanched. Then, with a vicious curse, Brody strode up to Noah Starr, paused a moment to glare down at him, and stormed from the store.

16

In their mouth was found no guile: for they are without fault before the throne of God.

Revelations 14:5

In the aftermath of Brody Gerard’s abrupt departure, tremors wracked Claire’s body. She clasped her arms tightly about herself, more frightened by her unnerving reaction than she had ever been with Brody Gerard. Then memories, of a night that now seemed years ago, engulfed her. Memories of her uncle, once again speaking filthy words while he all but undressed her with his eyes, and then the horrible feel of his hands, coarse and dirty as he grabbed her, tearing at her clothes, pulling her close.

“Mrs. MacKay? Claire?” A hand came seemingly out of nowhere to gently touch her arm. “Are you all right?”

With a gasp, she jerked away. “D-don’t,” she cried, struggling to escape the hideous scene still playing in her mind. “Don’t touch me!”

“Then I won’t,” the kind voice came again. From somewhere far away, a chair scraped across a wooden floor. “It might be best, though, if you have a seat. You’ve been through a pretty upsetting time just now. And you don’t look all that well either.”

Claire blinked. Her vision cleared, and she was back in Gates’ Mercantile. A smiling Noah Starr stood beside her, his hands gripping the top of a well-worn, bent back wooden chair.

“Sit, Mrs. MacKay,” he urged again.

Without protest or further hesitation, Claire did as she was told. Gradually, the room stopped spinning. Her breathing slowed, became deeper.

“Feeling any better?” the young priest inquired, leaning over and around to scan her face.

“A-aye.” Claire managed a fierce nod, which only sent the room whirling yet again. “Well, almost, anyway.”

“Shall I fetch her some water? Or get my wife’s smelling salts?” Mr. Gates hurried over to them.

A pair of brown eyes, surprisingly flecked with green and gold, met hers. “Well, Mrs. MacKay?” Noah Starr asked. “Do you need smelling salts, or a glass of water?”

“Claire,” she ground out, inexplicably fixing on the priest’s continued formal use of her name. Somehow, it irritated her, especially after what he had just done for her in standing up to Brody Gerard. “Please, call me Claire. And nay, I don’t need water or smelling salts. All I need is to sit here for a minute more, and I’ll be fine.”

“Then I’ll go on and package up all your supplies, if that’s okay with you,” Mr. Gates offered. “That way, once you’re ready to leave, you won’t have to wait on your purchases.”

“Aye.” She shot him a grateful, if wan, smile. “That’d be most appreciated.”

Noah squatted before her. “Did Mr. Gerard harm you, or touch you in any unseemly way? If he did, you could press charges. With his past record, this time Sheriff Whitmore wouldn’t hesitate to lock him up.”

“His … record?” For an instant, Claire couldn’t quite grasp the implications of the priest’s words. She couldn’t seem to grasp anything, save how handsome Noah Starr was with his finely molded mouth and well-hewn features. How his wavy, dark blond hair framed his face and set off his warm, concerned brown eyes …

Then she remembered herself. “Aye, I heard you mention he’d been in prison,” she choked out. “Whatever did the man do?”

“Kidnapped Hannah, intending to sell her to some madame in Breckenridge. Before that, though, he managed to get himself in plenty of trouble working for Sadie Fleming’s bordello right here in Grand View. Had a few run-ins with Conor over Abby, too, before I came here, or so I’ve been told, and then with Devlin over Hannah.” Noah shook his head. “In case you couldn’t tell, Brody doesn’t feel any too kindly toward the MacKays.”

Her mouth twitched with wry humor. “Aye, I gathered that right off.”

“Your supplies are ready, Mrs. MacKay, when you’re ready to take them,” Mr. Gates announced just then from behind the main counter.

“Och, aye.” Claire pushed to her feet, where she stood for a few seconds until the freshened wave of dizziness subsided. “Give me a moment, and I’ll bring you my basket.” She gestured toward the straw basket still sitting where she had left it on the long cutting table.

“Please, permit me … Claire.” Noah retrieved the basket, then carried it to Mr. Gates. With slow, careful steps, Claire passed by the fabric table, picked up her handbag, and joined the two men. The straw hamper was soon filled, the bill added to the Culdee Creek account.

Noah Starr, however, refused to let her take the now food-laden basket. “Allow me to carry it for you. Is that your buggy tied up out front?”

She nodded. “Aye.”

He offered her his free arm, which, after a moment’s hesitation, Claire accepted. “Then we’re off.” Reverend Starr glanced over his shoulder at the store’s proprietor. “Thank you, Mr. Gates, and have a blessed day!”

As they stepped outside, the midday sun seemed blindingly bright. Claire blinked and tugged her bonnet back up onto her head to shade her eyes. When they reached her buggy, Noah placed her basket behind the seat, then paused.

“Are you still of a mind to speak with Millie?” he asked.

“Aye,” Claire replied. “I can’t get much free time for myself these days, and since I don’t know when I’ll be in town next …”

“Fine.” He grasped her arm and guided her around to the passenger’s side of the buggy. “Then I’ll drive you to the rectory. Once you get a good, strong cup of tea and some of Millie’s freshly baked crumb cake into you, you’ll feel a lot better.” With that, Noah helped Claire climb into the carriage, then made his way back around and jumped into the driver’s side.

Neither spoke much on the short ride to the rectory. Claire—for some reason that she didn’t care just then to examine—felt uncomfortably aware of Noah’s presence beside her. Her cheeks hot with embarrassment, she surreptitiously scooted even farther from her companion. Dear Lord, she prayed, deliver me from my foolish thoughts. Quiet my unsettled, bewildered heart. Help me, for I don’t understand what is happening to me.

Almost in answer to her prayers, Noah drew up before the rectory. He handed the reins to her, hopped down, and soon had Jenny tethered to the hitching post just outside the white picket fence. Then he walked around to Claire’s side.

“Here,” he said, lifting his arms to her, “let me help you down.”

Claire was tempted to motion him away, rather than risk the feel of his hands on her right now. But she also mistrusted her steadiness. Placing her hands on Noah’s broad shoulders, she leaned on him as he grasped her about the waist and helped her from the buggy.

The Reverend Starr was powerful. There was no doubt of that, after the effortless way he swung her to the ground. And he smelled of soap and clean skin, too, she realized, increasingly dismayed over her heightened awareness of him.

“We can leave your basket in the buggy,” Noah was saying. “There’s nothing perishable in it, is there?”

“What?” Like one rousing from a deep slumber, Claire jerked herself awake. “Och, nay. There’s naught perishable in the basket.”

“Well, come along then.” Once more, Noah offered his arm. “Let’s see if Millie’s about someplace.”

They entered the house, only to realize Millie was nowhere to be found. A note on the kitchen table, however, soon informed the priest that his aunt was out on an errand of mercy, visiting a new mother and her child.

He glanced up at Claire. “Well, she should be back shortly.” He smiled in that quiet, unassuming way of his. “In the meantime, there’s no reason I can’t brew us a pot of tea and serve up a slice or two of crumb cake.”

“Och, that won’t be necessary, Reverend Starr,” Claire immediately protested. “I know you must be busy. Get on with whatever you have to do. I can wait on your aunt by myself.”

“Maybe you can, but then again, you and I haven’t had much opportunity to talk in quite a while.” He walked to a white-painted cupboard decorated with cheery flowers and took down a porcelain teapot and two cups and saucers. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer to be alone with your thoughts?”

“Och, nay.” Despite her unsettled feelings for him, Claire refused to appear rude or ungrateful. “I just didn’t wish to impose.”

Noah placed the teapot and cups on the table, quickly prepared a tea strainer with tea leaves, then took up the kettle of water steaming on the cookstove. “You’re not. I can use with a bracing cup of tea myself, after that run-in with Brody. I was beginning to worry there that I might have to resort to fisticuffs to convince him to leave you be.”

With disbelieving eyes, Claire stared up at him as he poured the hot water through the tea strainer. “You know how to box?”

He shot her a boyish grin as he walked back to the stove to return the kettle. “One can’t study all the time, even in seminary. I used to get out to the local Young Men’s Christian Association at least three or four times a week. In addition to my boxing workouts there, I also played on a baseball team. Even now, far from a gymnasium, I still try to keep up with my boxing. Or as best as I can, anyway, without a sparring partner.”

No wonder he possessed such a strong, well-toned physique, Claire thought. “It just seems strange, you being a priest and all,” she hastened to explain. “Boxing is such a brutal sport.”

“Yes, it is,” he admitted. “But I didn’t see any harm in learning it for the sheer physical training it provided. Besides,” he added with a grin, “I figured I might as well, in case I should someday need to rescue a beautiful damsel in distress, as you were today.”

Though his mouth was curved into a teasing smile, Claire blushed nonetheless. “Did I ever thank you for that? I can’t remember.”

“Considering all the confusion, it doesn’t matter if you did or didn’t. I knew my efforts were appreciated.”