Authors: Kathleen Morgan
Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #General, #Romance, #ebook
Evan was right. Keeping secrets wasn’t worth the pain. Yet, just as he had kept the secret of Hannah to avoid hurting her, her secrets also held a similar ability to cause him—and others—more pain. Problem was, how did one know when it was best to keep a secret, and when was it far wiser to reveal it?
Bless them which persecute you: bless, and curse not.
Romans 12:14
“So, how did the day go?” Devlin asked two weeks later, as he and Evan met for their daily evening meeting. His leg still immobilized and propped on a stool and two pillows in his kitchen, Culdee Creek’s foreman leaned toward Evan with an eagerness surely compounded by his enforced inactivity.
The younger man smiled. He couldn’t blame his cousin. Most of their lives had been spent outdoors, engaged year-round in strenuous physical endeavors. Evan could no more stand being cooped up inside for so long, forced to rely on others for help, than he imagined Devlin could.
“Well,” he replied, removing his Stetson and hanging it on the hook by the back door, “it’s been pretty quiet of late.” Evan sauntered to the cupboard, took down a mug, then walked back to the stove, where he poured himself a cup of coffee. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you,” he hastened to add with a chuckle. “Lord only knows when we last had a slow day.”
“So all the fences are mended, the hay’s been put up in the barn, and the cattle going to market separated for shipment to Denver next week?”
“Sure enough.” Evan blew on his steaming coffee. “Plus I had the hands put a coat of fresh paint on the two barns and fasten down all the loose boards. Except for moving the remaining cattle into closer feed grounds for the winter, I reckon all the major chores are done.”
Devlin took a long swallow of his mug. “Well, unless we get some heavy snow between now and Thanksgiving, we shouldn’t have to move the cattle into the feed grounds before December. There’s still enough pasture to keep them until then.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” Evan walked to the table, pulled out a chair, and straddled it. “So I was hoping, if it’s all right with you, to start working on my house again. The hands can take care of the daily chores, and I’ll be sure and check with them at least twice a day—”
“Hey,” Devlin said with a laugh and lift of his hand, “I trust you to keep an eye on things. Might as well get as much done on your house as possible while the weather holds.”
“Yeah, that’s what I figured, too. Now that it’s framed, if I can just get the exterior walls up and the roof on before bad weather hits, I’ll be able to finish a lot of interior work this winter.” He grinned. “After all, Pa and Abby are going to want their house back soon enough.”
“Any word when Conor and Abby are planning on coming home?”
“Funny thing.” Evan pulled a letter from the back pocket of his denims. “Just got this today when I went to town to order more feed.” He handed the letter to his cousin. “Pa wrote this. Says Abby’s father is doing poorly, and they don’t expect him to last until Thanksgiving. So Pa feels pretty certain they’ll be home before Christmas.”
Devlin took the letter, opened it, and began to read. “Conor says Sean’s growing like a weed.” He laughed. “The boy’s into everything, now has only one word in his vocabulary, which is ‘no,’ and shows definite signs of having inherited the MacKay temper.”
“Sounds like my little brother’s turning into quite a handful. Hope he gets all that wild behavior out of his system before he comes home.”
Devlin gave a disparaging snort. “Fat chance of that. The boy won’t even be two until the beginning of December. Odds are his ‘wild behavior,’ as you call it, is only the beginning.” He smiled. “Just wait and see. Raising children is what
really
makes you a man.”
“Well, I’m hoping children aren’t in Claire’s and my future until at least we can move into our new house. I want kids someday, but for the time being I’m happy that it’s just the two of us. Claire and I first need to work all the kinks out of our marriage, before we take on some babies.”
“She seems to be settling down into ranch, and American, life pretty well,” Devlin ventured. “Hannah says Claire doesn’t need much of her help anymore.”
Evan pulled over the sugar bowl, scooped up a generous spoonful, and stirred it into his coffee. “How does Hannah feel about Claire?” he asked, taking care to word his query as casually as possible. “I mean, do they get along okay and seem to be on friendly terms?”
“Reckon so.” Devlin paused to scratch his jaw. “Why? Has Claire said something to you about Hannah?” Evan hesitated. In the past, he would have as soon cut out his tongue as confide in his cousin. But things had changed a lot in the past few months.
“No,” he said, shaking his head, “it’s just that she was pretty upset at first, when she found out about Hannah and me, and I was just wondering if that had since had any effect on her and Hannah’s relationship.”
Devlin emitted a soft whistle. “Are you telling me Claire didn’t know about why you left Culdee Creek when you married her?”
A flush spread up Evan’s neck and into his cheeks. “Now don’t start on one of your lectures, Devlin, or I’ll regret telling you. I told Claire I’d left because of a woman. I just didn’t tell her that woman was Hannah.”
“Then how did she find out? Did you finally break down and tell her once you got home?”
“No, she found out from Mary Sue Edgerton.”
“Blast!” Devlin released a sharp, angry breath. “That girl just won’t quit, will she? Makes sense now, the basis for all the rumors.”
“Rumors?” Evan straightened in his chair. “What rumors?”
It was now the big foreman’s turn to redden. “Oh, nothing much,” he mumbled, not quite meeting his cousin’s gaze. “Probably just some silly talk, the kind that crops up now and then about any parson, especially one who’s unwed.”
Evan leaned forward. “And what exactly might that silly talk be?”
For a moment, it didn’t look like Devlin wanted to answer. Then, with a shrug and a sigh, he finally did. “There’s been things said about Noah and Claire. Seems Mary Sue and Millie caught them alone together a couple of weeks ago, holding hands in the rectory kitchen. Reckon it was Mary Sue, though, who decided there was more afoot than just some innocent comforting going on, and now not only does the entire Ladies Quilting Society know about it, but their husbands as well. I found out from Henry Watson, who found out from his wife, who attends the quilting meetings.”
“So, based on one visit Claire made to Noah Starr two weeks ago,” Evan muttered disgustedly, “the whole town now thinks there’s something going on between them.” Angrily, he shoved his coffee aside. “I swear, Devlin, but sometimes I get mighty fed up with all the small town pettiness and gossiping!”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, considering the source, I doubt anyone with even a lick of sense is going to make much out of it.”
“Nonetheless, now I’m going to have to caution Claire to watch her step, and not pay Noah Starr any private visits for a while.”
Devlin scratched his jaw and frowned. “Doesn’t seem fair to her, if she’s in need of spiritual guidance. Having to forego seeing her pastor, I mean.”
“Well, Claire should’ve thought about it before she was found alone in a compromising situation with another man—an
unmarried
man—even if that man is a priest. They could’ve just waited outside until Millie came back.” Evan cursed softly. “Or she could’ve waited until someone from the ranch had time to drive her to town and chaperone them properly.”
“Yeah, things aren’t as safe as they used to be in these parts,” his cousin agreed. “Especially with men like Brody Gerard back in town again.”
“Brody Gerard?” Evan stared in disbelief. “I thought he was locked up all safe and sound in prison?”
“He served his time,” Devlin observed bitterly. “Reckon kidnapping a former prostitute didn’t deserve more than a year’s sentence. And now he’s back in Grand View.”
The more he thought about it, the more the news about Brody Gerard didn’t set well with Evan. The man had been a burr beneath their saddle since he had first come to town over four years ago, and something warned Evan that they had just begun to see what the cold-hearted, vengeful drifter could do.
“Maybe I ought to go have a talk with Gerard,” he growled. “Set him straight on what’ll happen if he dares lay a hand on another MacKay, or anyone else associated with Culdee Creek.”
“No, not yet.” Devlin shook his head. “No sense going out looking for trouble. As far as we know, Gerard has kept his nose clean since he got out of prison. Maybe he finally learned his lesson while he was locked up there. Worse folk than him, you know, have changed their ways.”
Evan gave a mocking laugh. “Yeah, and it never snows in Colorado, either!”
“Nonetheless,” Devlin urged with a smile, “let’s just take a wait-see attitude. If Gerard starts any trouble, we’ll hear soon enough. Then we’ll come down on him fast and hard.”
“Fine,” Evan conceded grudgingly. “Still, he’s just one more reason for Claire to be careful going out alone anymore. I’ll have to warn her about Gerard.”
“Yeah,” Devlin nodded his agreement. “Best you do.”
Claire was just putting away the last of the supper dishes, when Evan returned from his nightly visit with Devlin. She glanced up, a smile of greeting on her lips, and caught sight of her husband’s frowning face. Apprehension filled her. Had he and Devlin managed to finally have another falling out?
“What’s the matter, Evan?” Laying aside the dishtowel, she walked over to him.
He grabbed her arms before she could lift them to wrap around his neck, and gently pushed them away. “We need to talk.” Evan glanced around. “Where are Ian and Beth?”
“Both have gone up to bed.” Her anxiety mounting, she tilted her head. “Why?”
“This is between you and me. I don’t want them overhearing.” He gestured toward the table. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
Increasingly wary with each passing second, Claire did as he asked. Whatever was Evan upset about now? she wondered. Had he discovered Ian’s fighting had been going on since school started, or, worse still, found out about Ian and Beth?
Plastering on a pleasant, mildly curious expression, Claire waited until he was seated catty-corner to her. “Whatever do you have to tell me?” she then demanded. “Don’t keep me in suspense an instant longer.”
“Well,”—Evan leaned on the table—“it seems Devlin heard that Mary Sue Edgerton’s been spreading tales about you and Noah. Seems she walked in on some cozy little scene a couple of weeks back, and now has it in her head that you and Noah are friendlier than is proper.”
Claire could feel the blood rush from her face. Her heart seemed to double its rate; her mouth went dry, her palms clammy. Dear Lord, she thought, had her tiny transgression against her marriage vows that day already come back to haunt her? If so, it wasn’t fair. Her admiring feelings for the priest had been secret and soon forgotten, buried in the deepest recesses of her heart.
Still, her husband expected an answer. Claire decided the best tactic was an offensive one. “And what do
you
think?” she demanded tartly. “If Mary Sue isn’t trying to cause problems for Hannah, and indirectly for our marriage, then she now seems to be spreading lies about me, and maligning the good name of our pastor.”
“That’s kind of what Devlin and I thought.”
Relief that her husband evidently thought her and Noah innocent flooded Claire. “And how did Devlin hear about this?”
“From Henry Watson, whose wife attends the Ladies Quilting Society.” Evan folded his hands before him on the table. “Talk—be it lies or the truth—spreads like wild-fire in a small town and its surrounds.”
Anger began a slow burn within Claire. It seemed that Mary Sue not only had a vendetta against Hannah, but now one against her, too. And for what possible reason, save that Claire had refused to allow Hannah to be maligned in her presence, or to feed what seemed Mary Sue’s insatiable need for gossip? What a mean, spiteful girl!