Love Inspired Historical January 2015 Box Set: Wolf Creek Father\Cowboy Seeks a Bride\Falling for the Enemy\Accidental Fiancee (33 page)

Marry? Husband? The words stopped her. She'd always vowed never to have a husband, and here she was thinking of marrying Rand. But how could she not look favorably on him when he'd kept his promise about writing those letters? When he'd stood here not ten minutes ago and promised to find Jimmy, if he was to be found anywhere in this great valley?

Lord, what am I going to do?
Maybe the minister's sermon would have an answer for her. After all, when she'd prayed about accepting Colonel and Mrs. Northam's offer to pay her train fare to come west, hadn't the minister in their church preached that very Sunday about Abraham being called out of his homeland to a new land of his own? She'd taken that as a sign she was to begin her quest to find Jimmy. But it didn't mean she had to marry Rand. Did it?

* * *

As the hymn ended and the congregation took their seats, Rand sensed that same unease in Marybeth he'd noticed from the first. Although she seemed happy to be in church and certainly enjoyed the singing, if her smile was any indication, her mood had grown sober at some point during the hymn. He doubted it was Nate's poor excuse for singing that caused her sudden change, but he couldn't imagine what had brought on that furrowed brow.

Reverend Thomas announced a meeting of the deacons after the service, so that meant Rand would be staying. He was sitting on the church board while Dad was out of town. The preacher also mentioned the ladies' fund-raising quilting bee on Thursday. Rand hoped Marybeth would consider attending the bee so she could become friends with the other ladies at church. If she could see what a fine community Esperanza was and how genuine the people were, maybe she'd decide marriage to him wouldn't be so bad. He hoped and prayed that would happen, even as his concerns about her truthfulness whispered a word of caution to his mind.

After a few other announcements and another hymn, during which the offering was taken, the pastor moved to his place behind the pulpit just as the church door banged open. Although Rand's parents had taught him to keep his attention on the preacher no matter what happened at the back of the church, he couldn't help turning around to see who the noisy latecomer was.

Hardison!

Rand's first instinct was to reach for his gun. But this being Sunday morning, he'd left it in his saddlebag in deference to the preacher's wishes about no guns being brought into the church building. Everyone honored that wish, except maybe Maisie and her sisters, who probably carried derringers in their reticules. Right now Rand wished he'd stuck his sister's small firearm in his pocket. Then again, he never imagined Hardison would dare to complete his threats right here in God's house.

Tolley shot him a look and a nod, but Rand frowned and shook his head. They wouldn't chase the man out, not after his speech to Marybeth about this church welcoming everyone to its services. He prayed he wouldn't have to eat those words.

Before he could figure out what to do, Hardison whipped off his hat and gave the preacher a nod. “Sorry,” he whispered, sounding as though he meant it.

“Welcome, friend,” the preacher said. “We're glad you're here.”

Hardison walked around to the window end of a back pew and slid in next to Susanna's father and stepmother. He gave them a friendly smile, one so sincere that Rand almost believed it. Apparently, Edward MacAndrews did believe it because he shook hands with Hardison, while his wife, Angela, returned a maternal smile.

Rand's insides twisted at the deception. What was this man doing here? After threatening Rand and his family and Marybeth, why would he intrude on this holy time?

On the other hand, Reverend Thomas seemed pleased at the intrusion, perhaps even a little bit more invigorated than usual. He read the scripture passage from Psalm 119. “‘Wherewithal shall a young man cleanse his way? By taking heed thereto according to Thy word.'”

Ordinarily, Rand would sit up and take notice. Since killing Hardison's cousin, he'd tried diligently not only to listen carefully to each sermon but also to cleanse his way of every possible sin. But it was no sin to protect those he loved, those he was responsible for, was it? He'd been assured by friends and family that it had been a righteous execution of a killer, yet he still couldn't reconcile himself to being the executioner.

The preacher went on. “‘With my whole heart have I sought Thee. O let me not wander from Thy commandments. Thy word have I hid in my heart that I might not sin against Thee.'”

Only by force of his will could Rand take in the lesson from the sermon. Had he truly been seeking God with his whole heart these past three years? When was the last time he'd worked on memorizing passages that spoke to him? Despite knowing it was wrong to judge people according to their wealth or position or clothing, he hadn't known that verse about not being a respecter of persons was in the book of James. He would have to look it up when he got home. This morning he'd been so eager to get to town that he'd forgotten his Bible, another lapse.

As Reverend Thomas always did, especially when a stranger attended services, he ended his message with the gospel. He explained how Jesus' death on the cross paid for everyone's sins, no matter how bad a person was. All a man had to do was to reach out and accept the gift, just like a birthday present. He spoke of Christ's resurrection as the promise to all believers that they would one day be in Heaven with Him.

Usually, Rand loved to hear the simple gospel that had turned his life around three years ago, especially the way Reverend Thomas delivered it. The preacher didn't pound the pulpit, nor did he holler or pour shame and condemnation on his congregants, like some preachers Rand had heard as a boy. Like Jesus, Reverend Thomas led them like a flock.

If he weren't so concerned about Hardison, he would let the message settle over him like a warm blanket to chase away the chill of guilt that often plagued him. Instead he prayed for God's protection on everyone in the congregation because he had no doubt the gunslinger would do something to disturb the peace in this holy room.

Sure enough, just as the preacher finished his invitation to anyone who wanted to accept Christ's free gift of salvation, Hardison stood and walked to the front, brushing invisible tears from his cheeks as he walked.

While others whispered “Praise the Lord” or “God bless him,” Rand ground his teeth. Even Tolley seemed more puzzled than disbelieving. But Rand would believe the gunman had been converted when Mount Blanca crumbled into sand and spread across the Valley floor.

* * *

Marybeth blinked in wonder as a man strode up the aisle toward the preacher. Her Boston church didn't have altar calls, but Rosamond had told her about them. How wonderful that during her first visit to this place of worship a man became convicted of his need for Christ and was willing to make his new faith public.

The pastor invited him to kneel and then knelt beside him and put an arm around his shoulders while they prayed. As she watched them stand and the pastor introduce Dathan Hardison to the congregation, she realized he was the man who had stared at her so boldly on the train. At the time she'd felt very uncomfortable under his leering perusal and more than a little grateful for the companionship of Dr. and Mrs. Henshaw. Perhaps now that he'd become a Christian, this man would behave in a more seemly fashion toward ladies. At least his expression bore signs of repentance, for which she could only rejoice.

She glanced up at Rand to share this joyous moment, only to see a scowl on his face. A quick glance at Nate revealed less hostility, but still a decided lack of approval. Impatience and annoyance swept through her. A man had just come to the Lord. Why would they not be pleased? This was the first real flaw she'd seen in the entire Northam family's character. What other disappointments would they hand her in the coming days?

On the other hand, Nolan Means, seated across the aisle with his sister, Anna, wore a pleased, even interested, smile. That spoke well of the banker. Maybe he would befriend Mr. Hardison. She had an idea Rand and Nate weren't planning to.

After church, Rand excused himself from walking Marybeth back to Mrs. Foster's, telling her he had a deacons' meeting to attend. “I'll leave you in Mrs. Foster's capable hands.” He gave her that cute smile of his, but the troubled look in his eyes conveyed another feeling altogether. “She'll get you safely home.”

As if she couldn't get herself safely back to the house. But she wouldn't challenge him about that. “Is everything all right?” Maybe she could get him to explain his disapproval of Mr. Hardison.

He gently squeezed her forearm. “Nothing for you to worry about. Just church business.” His attention now on Nate, he seemed in a hurry to get away from her for the first time since they'd met.

Fine.
If he wouldn't share his concerns with her after she'd told him so many of hers, then so be it.

“Well, I'll bid you good day.” She edged past the brothers and joined her landlady down front by the organ. “Your music was lovely, Mrs. Foster. It certainly put me in the mood for worship.” And Rand just ruined it all.

As she shook hands with the minister on her way out into the summer sunshine, she decided to let her negative feelings go, as Mam had always urged her to do. That had been Mam's way to survive her miseries, but Marybeth had never quite mastered it.

Mrs. Foster introduced her to several people, including Susanna's father and stepmother, Mr. and Mrs. MacAndrews, who welcomed her as if she were already part of their extended family. Maisie and Doc made sure she met the rest of the Eberly family: the parents, of course, and sisters Beryl, Georgia and Grace, who at twenty years old was half a head taller than her own father. Laurie gave Marybeth a wave and now was busy with the other girls her age, probably waiting for Tolley to emerge from the church.

All in all, Marybeth felt the warmth of Christian love around her. Several men surrounded Mr. Hardison and chatted with the new convert as if he were an old friend. When he glanced her way, he smiled and tipped his hat but made no move to approach her. That spoke well of him. No doubt he would wait for a proper introduction, as a gentleman should. She would forgive and forget his inappropriate stares on the train.

Mr. Means spoke to Marybeth briefly and reminded her of their appointment tomorrow morning. As if she could forget it. A job at the bank was exactly what she needed to support herself and to keep her from being forced to marry Mr. Randall Northam, with all of his changing moods.

* * *

After Marybeth and Mrs. Foster left, Rand stayed in the pew to talk with his brothers about Hardison before the deacons' meeting.

“Everybody believed his act,” Tolley said in an urgent whisper. “We need to expose him for what he is.”

“Hang on, brother.” Nate blew out a long breath. “I'd be one of those who believed him if Rand hadn't told me his name and described the encounter you two had with him.” He looked toward the door, where the last few church members lined up to shake hands with the preacher on their way out. “Besides, who's to say he wasn't convicted of his need for the Lord during the preacher's message? It was one of his best sermons, and that's saying something.”

The familiar nudge of conviction for his own sins stopped Rand's protest before he could give voice to it. He wished he'd listened more intently to the preacher's words when he was younger.

“Another thing.” Nate went on. “We don't want to alarm the townfolks or take a chance on turning them against a new Christian. That is, if he's sincerely converted.”

“You weren't there when he threatened Rand.” Tolley scowled at his oldest brother. “Tell him, Rand.”

“No sense repeating what I told him Friday night.” Rand saw Reverend Thomas and the other deacons returning to the sanctuary. “Nate, can you stick around until after the meeting? Maybe we can ask the preacher what he thinks.”

“Sure.” Nate set a hand on Tolley's shoulder. “Would you mind riding back to the ranch and making sure Susanna and Lizzy are all right? And say I'll be a little late for dinner?”

Tolley shrugged off his hand. “'Course not. Won't mind at all. No, sir. Not me. I'm old enough to be your errand boy but not old enough to sit in on a meeting with the men.” He marched up the aisle, snatching his hat from the cloakroom and clapping it on his head as he exited the church.

Rand cast a rueful look at Nate. “We've got to let the boy grow up someday.”

“Maybe.” Nate shrugged. “When he cools that temper down a bit.”

Rand nodded. Nate had fought his own battle with a strong temper and with God's help had won. Now he had a cool head and steady hand, which was reason enough for Dad to leave him in charge of the ranch. Rand was glad to leave the authority to him, something he couldn't have said three years ago when he'd chafed under his older brother's authoritarian ways.

Which was why Rand had been more than a little surprised when Dad had left him, not Nate, in charge of the family's church responsibilities. Especially considering that the deacon board was, in effect, the town council, until Dad returned and organized the setting up of an official city government. So far Esperanza and the surrounding community had grown peaceably on their own, with good people moving in every week, folks taking responsibility where they saw a need, and no one stirring up trouble. Until Hardison.

“All right, men.” Reverend Thomas waved the seven deacons and Nate to their seats in the two front pews. “Let's make this short and sweet. Mrs. Foster's invited me to dinner, and I don't want the fried chicken to get cold.”

While the other men laughed, a jealous itch crept into Rand's chest. He refused to let it bite him. The preacher would never intrude on another man's territory. Still, he wished he were the one having dinner with Marybeth and her landlady. To ease his own mind, he'd need to stop by the house on his way home to see whether Mrs. Foster had opened her home to Hardison. She or someone else usually fed newcomers...and strays.