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Authors: Christine Johnson

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Dear God. She was going to die.

Gabriel followed at Kensington’s heels. The woods were quiet that night, too quiet for a smuggling operation. Perhaps Gabriel had been wrong and the bootleggers had moved to another location. That would explain Kensington’s
lack of concern that they were headed to the site of his illicit activities.

The man crashed through the woods, guided only by the weak glow of the flashlight. Of course he knew the way. He’d spent his entire life here. Unlike Gabriel, who had to use a bent tree as a marker, Kensington could head right to the spot.

Within minutes, they reached the root cellar. No one was there, not even the sheriff. Kensington shined his flashlight at the cellar doors, not bothering to disguise the fact that he knew its location.

“All right,” Kensington grunted as he lifted the first door. “Let’s see what we have.” He directed the light inside. “Felicity?”

The woods came alive with a flurry of crackling and shouts.

“Freeze and put your hands in the air.”

Gabriel jumped and raised his hands, even though he knew it had to be Sheriff Ilsley.

Kensington didn’t bother. “What on earth are you doing, Sheriff? I went to your office looking for help finding my Felicity, and now I see you’re sitting out here in the woods.”

Ilsley lowered his gun. “Felicity’s missing?”

“Didn’t I just say that?” Kensington growled. “Now put that thing away and help me find her.”

Ilsley looked at Gabriel. “But if you’re here, then where…?” He didn’t finish, but Gabriel knew the question. Where are the bootleggers?

Gabriel shrugged. “We don’t know.” The answer fit equally well with a missing person or a missing group of bootleggers.

Ilsley still looked confused. He directed his gaze at Kensington. “But I thought…”

“There’s no time for talk,” Kensington said gruffly. “My
Felicity’s missing, and it’s getting cold. Are you going to help me comb these woods?”

The sheriff holstered his pistol. “Of course, but let’s not go about this like chickens with their heads cut off. We need a plan of attack.” The sheriff pulled off his hat, ran a hand through his hair, and then replaced the hat. “Is she alone?”

“As far as I know,” Kensington growled.

“Any ideas where she might have gone?”

Gabriel hated covering the same ground while Felicity waited somewhere for rescue. “We’ve discussed this already, Sheriff, and we’ve checked everywhere we thought she might be. Her brother, Blake, is calling her friends and acquaintances. I thought she might have taken a walk in the park and got lost.”

“Lost?” said Kensington. “She’s lived here her whole life.”

“Except for school,” Gabriel pointed out. Highbury School for Girls. If Mariah’s friends were correct, the society girls there would have eaten Felicity alive. “She did go to school in New York City, right?”

Kensington dismissed his idea. “A person doesn’t forget their hometown in a few years.”

“Gentlemen,” Ilsley interrupted, “this is getting us nowhere. I say we split up to cover as much ground as possible.” He quickly assigned sections of town to two of his four deputies. “The rest of you come with me.”

Still, Gabriel felt they weren’t looking in the right place. Rain streamed off his hat and down his neck. Felicity couldn’t stand a night exposed to these conditions.

“Pastor, you take Main Street,” Kensington said. “I’ll take Oak. All right, boys, let’s spread out.”

Ilsley looked at Gabriel. “Perhaps we should pray first.”

The suggestion shot through Gabriel with clear precision.

He should have been the one to suggest it. He was the minister.

Ashamed, Gabriel bowed his head. Slinky still pulled at the leash, and worry riddled his thoughts. He couldn’t hear God’s still voice when the woman he loved was in danger. He said a rudimentary prayer and hoped God would understand.

As soon as he finished, the sheriff split them into teams of two. Gabriel found himself paired with Kensington again.

“You take the area from the parsonage through Kensington Estates, and I’ll head toward the Grange Hall,” the sheriff said. “We’ll find her, Branford.”

“Follow me,” Kensington said, heading toward the parsonage.

At that moment, Slinky chose to tug at the leash, pulling Gabriel in the opposite direction, toward the river. In a flash, he remembered how Slinky had wanted to go upriver rather than toward the root cellar. Did the dog sense or smell something?

“Wait a minute, Sheriff, Mr. Kensington,” he called out, bringing the men to a halt. “I have an idea. Follow me.”

“Where?”

Gabriel gave Slinky free rein and took off toward the river. “Just follow me.” It would take too long to explain and argue out the merits of following a dog. It was better to go on faith.

They crashed through the woods and were soon back on the path, headed upriver. They passed the pavilion, dark and silent, and reentered the forest.

“Where are you going?” Kensington huffed as he struggled to keep up the pace. “My Felicity would never walk this way. She’s too delicate.”

Gabriel just kept plowing forward, more and more certain with every step. Slinky pulled hard on the leash, leading
him closer to the river. Now he could hear the water rushing past, tumbling over the rocks that made up the little rapids.

Aside from their bumbling and panting, the forest was quiet. Even the rain had stopped, and Gabriel unbuttoned his coat. The cool night air felt good but not as good as knowing they’d soon find Felicity.

“Come on, boy,” he urged. Gabriel was almost running now, his feet as sure as a boy’s. Roots, branches and stones meant nothing in the pursuit of Felicity.

Then, off to his right, he heard a man yell in surprise. A second later, a gunshot rang out and a woman screamed.

Gabriel dropped Slinky’s leash and ran.

Chapter Seventeen

F
elicity stared at the barrel of the gun. The puff of smoke had drifted off, but Robert kept the pistol pointed at her head. Her heartbeat swooshed in her ears, and she couldn’t have stood even if she could get her legs to move.

“R-Robert,” she stammered, unable to think coherently. He’d just shot at her. Robert, the man she’d once wanted to make her husband.

“Shh,” he hissed. “Not a word. Do you understand? Not one word.”

She heard the menace behind the words as well as their implicit threat:
or else the next bullet will be in your head.

She couldn’t swallow, could barely breathe. Her arms ached from the awkward position, but she dared not move. If she flinched, he’d kill her. His hand stayed steady, the pistol level. Next time he wouldn’t miss.

Is this how the buffalo had felt before Daddy shot him? And the gazelles and antelope? Had they cringed and prayed for salvation? Had they recounted every mistake they’d made?

How wrong she’d been about Robert. He was no engineer. It had all been a pretense to cover his criminal activities. She should have known. A real engineer wouldn’t constantly
forget his instruments or carelessly leave them lying about. A real engineer would have assessed the weight problem of the stained glass window in minutes.

If only Gabriel was here. She’d known he was the man for her that first day but hadn’t wanted to accept she could love a poor man with no social standing. What a fool she’d been to throw away the best man she’d ever known. Now she faced death never having told him how she really felt.

The rest of the smugglers readied the boat in haste, no longer caring how much noise they made. “Ready, boss.”

Robert cocked the gun again, and she tensed, steeling herself for the pain of the bullet. Would he aim for her head or her heart? Would the shot be true? She feared the pain, not death, for God had promised her a heavenly home if she placed all her trust in Him.

She closed her eyes and prayed.
Dear Lord, please forgive my countless offenses. I’m not worthy, but I pray You will remember me and let me enter Your kingdom. Above all, please look after Luke and give him a loving home where he will be cherished and grow strong. Let him know that You will always be his Father.

Somehow, praying for Luke brought peace. She waited for the sound of gunfire, waited for the searing pain of the bullet tearing through her flesh. Instead, a dog barked. A dog? Even in the dim light of Robert’s shuttered lantern, she recognized the black-and-white bundle of fur.

“Slinky.”

And by his side stood Gabriel, her Gabriel. Hope surged, but fear came quick on its heels.

“Robert has a gun,” she warned.

“I see that.” Gabriel knelt by her side and wrapped his raincoat around her shoulders.

Didn’t he understand? “He’ll hurt you. H-he’ll kill you.” Her teeth started chattering uncontrollably.

“Maybe you’d better listen to her, Reverend,” Robert snapped.

Gabriel paid him no attention. “Shh,” he whispered, holding her close. “I’ll never leave you.”

“Gabriel.” She buried her face in his wonderful cotton shirt. “I’m so sorry. Don’t risk your life for me.”

He lifted her face and looked deep into her eyes. “I will risk everything for you. I love you, Felicity Kensington. Never doubt that. I love you.”

The last of her strength disintegrated. “You do?” The tears returned. “B-but why? I was so prideful. I treated you terribly.”

He smothered her confession with a kiss, and at last his words sank in. He loved her. He truly loved her, no matter who she was.

He cupped her face in both hands, and in the light of the lantern, she saw such love that the tears flowed again.

“Don’t ever leave me again,” he said. “Promise?”

She nodded, eyes brimming.

Robert sneered, “Very touching, Reverend. I could almost fall for that little show of concern myself. What you didn’t tell her is why you’re really here tonight.”

Felicity glared at Robert. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the reverend’s real agenda, if he even is a minister. That’s right, Ms. Kensington. Everything is not what it seems. Tell me, Reverend, how you knew where to find us. Care to tell me why first Ms. Kensington appeared and then you showed up tonight.”

Gabriel tensed, and she wanted to comfort him, but he stepped away from her to face Robert.

“Considering
you’re
the one leveling a gun at
us,
” Gabriel said, “you have some gall to claim I’m the one with the false agenda. Shoot me, if you must, but let Felicity go. She has nothing to do with this charade you’ve concocted.”

“No,” she cried. Gabriel couldn’t die, not when she finally realized how much she loved him. She stood beside him. “If you shoot Gabriel, you’ll have to shoot me.”

Gabriel pulled her behind him. “Don’t be a martyr.”

Her heart pummeled her rib cage. Her knees wobbled. She hardly felt like a martyr.

Robert’s head suddenly jerked toward her left, and he lowered the pistol. “Sheriff. It’s about time.” He tucked the gun under his jacket.

“What?” Felicity blinked, utterly confused. Robert acted like he expected to see the sheriff, who scampered down the riverbank with a deputy on his heels.

Gabriel pointed at Robert. “Arrest this man.”

Robert just smirked.

Felicity looked from Robert to the sheriff, searching for answers. Had the entire world gone off-kilter? She reached for Gabriel, trying to find something solid.

“I waited for you at the root cellar,” the sheriff said to Robert. “That was the plan.”

Felicity’s hope sank with a heavy thud. If Sheriff Ilsley was waiting for Robert and Robert was waiting for the sheriff, that meant they were in on this together. Why hadn’t she seen it before? Mrs. Lawrence’s blind pig never got raided, even though everyone knew she sold liquor. The only reason Mrs. Lawrence stayed in business must be because the sheriff looked the other way. For a cut of the profits, he let men like Robert smuggle liquor into town unchallenged.

She sucked in her breath. That meant she and Gabriel were far from safe. The sheriff would not want anyone to know about his part in the bootlegging operation. He’d kill them and ensure their bodies were never found.

“Lord, help us,” she whispered as Robert consulted with the sheriff.

Gabriel drew her close. “He will.”

At least they’d die together and walk hand in hand into the Lord’s kingdom. She pressed to his side, waiting for the inevitable report of a gun firing and the subsequent blow of the bullet piercing her body.

Gabriel cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Sheriff, but your bootleggers are getting away down the river.”

How could Gabriel think the sheriff would care about the bootleggers when he was clearly one of them?

To her astonishment, Ilsley directed his deputy to head toward the river. “DeWalt, you’d better join us.”

“DeWalt?” Who was DeWalt? She didn’t know anyone by that name in Pearlman.

“DeWalt?” Gabriel echoed, but the men, including Robert, were already crashing down the slope, Slinky close behind.

They’d left Gabriel and her alone, free to escape.

“What’s happening?” she whispered.

“I don’t know, but I’m not waiting around to find out. Follow me.”

Felicity held tight to Gabriel. “But I can’t see.”

“Wait for your eyes to adjust,” he whispered back. “I can already see the trees.”

She panicked. “I can’t.”

He held her close. “Just put your arms around my waist and follow me. I’ll get you home safely.”

Home? The thought sent another flood of tears to the surface. “I have no home.”

He hugged her close. “You always have a home, just as you always have a Heavenly Father.”

The calm assurance she’d felt in the cave returned. Yes, she did have a Father who would never abandon her.

“Be brave,” he said.

Brave. The word brought a surge of strength. With God’s help, she could be brave. She could survive.

“I’m ready,” she said. “Lead on.”

He positioned her arms at his waist, and then slowly, bit by bit, they inched upward. Her foot slipped, and he caught her. Branches whipped her face. She endured. Her sleeve tore. She ignored it. Soon she’d be home with the man she loved.

Before long, the ground leveled out, and Gabriel stopped.

“Why—?” she began, but he hushed her.

In the still, moonless night, she heard it, low at first but then louder—a crackling, rustling sound punctuated by the heavy fall of footsteps. Someone was coming. They hadn’t made it to safety. She pressed close to Gabriel. It must be DeWalt. Maybe their pursuer wouldn’t be able to see them in the dark. Then she spotted a wildly bouncing beam of light headed straight toward them.

“Dear God,” she breathed.

“This way,” Gabriel whispered.

He led her away from the oncoming person, but she couldn’t keep up his pace. One hand slipped off his waist and then the other. Meanwhile, the bobbing light was drawing closer. They were going to get caught.

She yelped when the top of her foot caught a log and sent her tumbling. The impact shivered up her arms to her elbows, but worse than the jolt was losing Gabriel.

She cried out for him, and his strong hands lifted her to her feet. “Are you hurt?”

“N-no,” she admitted.

But it was too late.

The bobbing light rounded a corner and shone directly in her eyes. They were caught.

“Felicity. Thank heavens,” said a familiar voice, gasping and panting.

“Daddy?”

The flashlight dropped to the ground, and she could see his haggard face. “Little one. I…your mother…I’m just so
glad to see you.” He blew his nose and wiped his fogged spectacles. “We were so worried.” His strong shoulders sagged, all vigor gone.

“Daddy,” she whispered, her heart aching for the man who’d raised her. He’d worked a little too much perhaps, but he loved her. She knew it as surely as the sun would rise in the morning.

“I love you, too, Daddy.”

As soon as Felicity went to her father, Gabriel missed her touch, but they had a bigger problem to address. Felicity was shivering.

“Let’s get out of here,” he barked, breaking up the father-daughter reunion. Felicity needed time with her father, but not now and not under these circumstances.

Kensington looked at him sharply. The man clearly wasn’t used to taking orders.

“She needs to get warmed up,” Gabriel said.

That kind of reasoning Kensington understood. He picked up the flashlight and headed Felicity back toward the park. That left Gabriel to bring up the rear. Neither Felicity nor her father had much fortitude left, and with every step the pace slowed. At this rate, Blevins would catch up to them before they reached town.

“Let’s go to the parsonage,” Gabriel suggested. “It’s closer.”

Felicity shivered, and Kensington altered direction. Gabriel took the lead. He’d get Felicity into the warmth of the kitchen, where Mariah would revive her with hot tea and a thick blanket.

“Where’s your dog, son?” Kensington huffed as Gabriel forced the pace.

“With the criminals,” Gabriel said tersely.

“What criminals?”

Gabriel tensed. How could the man pretend he didn’t know what was going on tonight? “The bootleggers.”

Felicity sighed. “Robert turned out bad, Daddy.”

Kensington chuckled. “I could have told you he wasn’t the man for you.”

“That’s not what she meant,” Gabriel said stiffly. “Mr. Blevins is part of a gang smuggling liquor into town.”

“He tried to shoot me, Daddy.”

Kensington waved off Felicity’s comment. “Nonsense. He wouldn’t shoot you. He’s in on everything.”

“So we found out.” Gabriel boiled. Of course, Blevins was in on everything, the same as Kensington was in on everything. What father would jeopardize his daughter’s life for money? Gabriel could not keep down the bile. “Blevins and his gang were storing the liquor in the old Warren root cellar until they were discovered. Apparently they’ve shifted to a spot upriver, but then you know that, don’t you?”

“What?” Kensington halted just outside the parsonage fence.

Gabriel had made a mistake, a bad mistake. This was not the time or the place to confront Kensington, not in front of Felicity.

“What do you mean, Gabriel?” Her plaintive voice tore through him.

For weeks, he’d dreaded how Felicity would feel when she learned the truth, but he’d never imagined he’d be the one to reveal it. “I, uh.” Nothing could explain away his words.

The dim, yellow glow of the flashlight made her look pale and weary. “Tell me what you mean. How would Daddy know anything about Robert’s bootlegging?”

Gabriel stood mute.

She did not. “Are you accusing my father of being involved with Robert and those criminals?”

Gabriel could think of no way out. If he told the truth,
he’d lose her. If he lied, he’d lose his soul. He swallowed hard, searching for help.

That help came from a most unlikely source. Kensington shook his head. “Robert’s not a criminal. He’s a Prohibition agent working with the sheriff to stop the bootleg liquor coming into town. Unfortunately, the pastor and I broke up the sheriff’s stakeout at the root cellar. Hopefully he caught the bootleggers at the river.”

Gabriel’s heart sank. He’d been wrong? Had everything he’d believed been wrong? As he put together the pieces, his shame grew. Not only had he insulted an agent of the law, he’d also accused Felicity’s father in front of her.

He tried to apologize, but her dismay stopped the words in his throat.

Tears clotted her voice as she rebuked him. “How could you?” She sagged against her father.

“Let’s get you home, little one,” said Kensington. “It can all be sorted out in the morning.”

Morning alone could not cure the pain Gabriel had wrought. He watched Kensington lead his daughter along the outside of the parsonage fence to his car. Moments later, they drove away, the car’s headlights finally disappearing up the hill.

At that moment, Slinky trotted up, leash dragging behind him. He wove around Gabriel’s feet, whining.

BOOK: The Matrimony Plan
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