California Romance (61 page)

“Edward?” she whispered. “Reverend Yates thinks I’m in love with Edward.” Unwilling to meet anyone until she could control herself, Ellie took refuge in her room. She couldn’t set Michael straight without betraying Joshua. Edward knew she loved his twin. His parents did not. Ellie shivered. Would Michael add to the speculation already running rampant about her and Edward? What if it reached Joshua? The idea appalled her.

Ellie clenched and unclenched her hands in an effort to relax. “As long as Reverend Yates believes I may come running to him, he will hold his tongue,” she told herself. “I should be safe from unfounded rumors—at least for now—because of his pride.”

Tired of the whole mess, Ellie flung herself on her bed. Why must life be so complicated? If again given the choice between the Diamond S and San Francisco, which road would she take? There, she’d been Ellie Sterling, adopted daughter of Matt and Sarah. Here, the city lay at her slippered feet.

Honesty compelled her to confess, “Lord, I don’t know. I miss Josh and Tim and home, but…”

Ellie fell into a troubled sleep with her questions unanswered. Hours later, she awakened from a jumbled dream crying out, “What would San Francisco say if they knew me as Ellie Stoddard, not Ellie Sterling?”

Late one afternoon, drumming hoofbeats jerked Josh from the sermon he’d been preparing. A clear voice shouted, “Whoa, Blue!”

Josh sprang out of his chair and into the yard.

Tim Sterling shot out of the saddle, eyes blazing. “Ellie’s gotta come home. She’s being ruined and coulda got herself killed.” He coughed and slapped dust from his pants. “Gimme some water. I’m dry as a bone.”

Dread filled Josh’s soul. “Come in before someone hears you.” Once inside, he brought a tall glass of water and motioned for Tim to sit down. “What’s this all about?”

Tim drained the glass and dropped into a chair, breathing hard. He tossed Josh a wrinkled letter. “See for yourself.”

Josh unfolded the pages and silently began reading:

Josh stopped reading. Disappointment swept through him. “I hate hearing Ellie talk like that. It sounds as if she’s already starting to change.”

“Yeah.” Tim slumped in his chair and stuck his lower lip out. “I’d like to yank her back here where she belongs.”

“So would I.” Josh returned to the letter:

“Chinatown!” Josh felt himself pale. The writing blurred. The letter fell to his lap.

Tim hurtled from his chair and paced the floor. “If a policeman hadn’t found her, who knows what would’ve happened? That’s not all,” he raved. “She’s gonna go sing at your uncle’s Rescue Mission. Red Fallon told me what it’s like down there.” Worry lines added years to his face. “I don’t care if your dad and brother are going with her. Why don’t you tell Ellie to get back here where she belongs?”

Josh spread his hands helplessly. “I can’t do that, Tim. No one can but God.”

Tim turned his back on Josh and said in a muffled voice, “I know, but He’d better hurry up before something awful happens to her.”

Josh got up and gave Tim’s shoulder a comforting pat. “God knows best, even when we don’t understand. I get the feeling Ellie thinks San Francisco is the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.”

“More like fool’s gold.” Tim whirled toward Josh. “Why don’t you go find out what’s happening? Don’t tell Ellie you’re coming. Just show up.” He didn’t wait for a reply, but glanced out the door. “It’s getting late. I gotta go. Don’t forget what I said.”

Josh watched his young friend vault to Blue’s saddle and ride off in the threatening dusk. Forget? As if he could. Tim’s startling suggestion and the news about Ellie had triggered temptation. Why not chuck his job, go to San Francisco, and fight the brother Ellie found “wonderful” for her love?

“Sorry, Lord,” he mumbled. But when morning followed a sleepless night, Josh had reached a decision. His trial period would be over in a few weeks. He’d give Luther Talbot and his whiners an ultimatum: Either Preacher Josh would be free to minister outside the building as well as inside, or they could get themselves another man. And the day his six months ended, Josh would catch the first train west and leave his future in God’s hands.

A
glorious rainbow hung over San Francisco on the morning of the day Ellie was to sing at Marvin Stanhope’s mission. Ellie drank in the sight from her bedroom window. She needed to talk with Mrs. Stanhope, but couldn’t tear herself away until the last shimmering remnant disappeared.

Ellie found Mrs. Stanhope reading in the library. The girl had long since discovered the way to her sponsor’s heart was to ask for advice, so she went right to the point. “I know you don’t approve of my going to the Rescue Mission, but I need your help.”

Mrs. Stanhope sighed. “I don’t approve, but Charles assures me you won’t be in any danger. I must admit that good has come from the
Chronicle
article about your singing there. Tickets for our Occidental Mission Home for Girls benefit concert are sold out. There’s also a long waiting list.” Her blue eyes gleamed with excitement.

Ellie remembered her experience in Chinatown and shuddered. “I’d sing my heart out to help Margaret Culbertson’s work.”

“Good for you!” The approval in the older woman’s voice thrilled Ellie. In the weeks she’d been in San Francisco, her patroness had gone from pride in her protégée to obvious fondness. After the first concert, she’d made Ellie feel like a daughter of the house. Ellie felt red flags fly in her hot cheeks. God willing, perhaps one day Mrs. Stanhope would be willing to accept her as Josh’s wife.

“What is it you need?” Mrs. Stanhope inquired.

Ellie put aside her daydreams. “I need advice on how to dress tonight. Should I wear a simple calico? I don’t want to be so dressed up the men will be uncomfortable.”

Mrs. Stanhope fitted her well-manicured fingers together. “Let me think.” She wrinkled her forehead. “You’re right in not wanting to cause embarrassment. It isn’t the socially acceptable thing to do.”

Ellie suppressed a grin. Leave it to Mrs. Stanhope to think of that.

“On the other hand, I’m sure the…uh…residents at the mission have seen your picture in the
Chronicle
. If you dress too plainly, the men may think you feel they aren’t worthy of fine clothes.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Ellie looked at her sponsor with respect. It seemed out of character, yet why should it? Autocratic and determined to have her own way, Mrs. Stanhope had a warm heart, as evidenced by her concern for the young Chinese girls in the city.

“Let’s go look over your wardrobe.”

“All right.” Ellie trotted up the stairs after Mrs. Stanhope.

One by one, Ellie’s lovely gowns were inspected. “Wear this new white muslin,” Mrs. Stanhope advised. “It’s pretty but simple. Wear a yellow sash, and I’ll order a corsage of yellow roses.”

A rush of admiration for her contradictory benefactress filled Ellie. “I don’t suppose you would want to come with us,” she blurted out.

“I? Go to the Rescue Mission? I wouldn’t be caught—” She broke off.

Ellie saw an unexpected struggle between dismissing the idea and breaking through layers of conventionality. It encouraged her to say, “Perhaps you’d find out why Joshua’s life changed after going there.”

Mrs. Stanhope sniffed. “I hardly think that would happen.”

“Please?” Ellie felt as if she were fighting for her future. “Just this once? I’d really like you to be there for me.”
And for Josh
, she silently added.

“My goodness, but you’re persistent.” A long-suffering look etched itself into Mrs. Stanhope’s face. “If it means that much to you, I suppose I should go, although it’s against my better judgment.” She bustled out. Ellie wanted to cheer.

Ellie would never forget the expression on Marvin Stanhope’s face as his sister-in-law swept into the Rescue Mission. It matched her husband’s and son’s disbelief when she had blandly announced she planned to accompany them to hear Ellie sing. But after the first shocked moment, Marvin rose to the occasion.

“Thank you for coming.” He led his guests to chairs at the front of a shabby room that smelled of cleanliness and boiling coffee. To Ellie’s relief, both the room and its occupants had obviously been subject to strong soap and water. Mrs. Stanhope didn’t turn a hair, even when a motley collection of unfortunates filed in and filled the chairs. Others stood at the back. It seemed as if every derelict for miles around, as well as the
Chronicle
reporter who sang Ellie’s praises, had come to hear the Sierra Songbird.

Edward sat down at the old but surprisingly well-tuned piano. Ellie had carefully selected a program designed to appeal to this particular audience. “Please sing along if you know the words,” she invited. At first no one except Edward and the newspaper reporter responded. Then grumbling bass and cracked baritone voices joined in on “Aura Lee,” “Sweet Genevieve,” “Beautiful Dreamer,” “Silver Threads among the Gold,” and a dozen others.

Ellie’s heart swelled. Long ago in this very room, Red Fallon had met the Master because of a young man who fearlessly braved a dark alley and rescued him. Her pride in Joshua multiplied a hundredfold.

She gradually shifted from ballads to hymns. At last, Ellie picked up her guitar and signaled to Edward, who joined his parents. After singing “Amazing Grace,” she struck the first notes of “It Is Well with My Soul.” A quick glance into the sin-hardened faces with seeking eyes stilled her fingers. These men knew far too much of tragedy. They didn’t need a song with a history of death and loss.

Ellie’s heart pounded. “I’d like to end with ‘The Ninety and Nine,’ one of my favorite hymns.” She played a single note, laid her guitar aside, and began to sing:

Feeling she was battling despair and hopelessness, Ellie continued her song. She saw expressions change. Dead-looking eyes sparked to life. The reporter leaned forward as if to make sure he didn’t miss a note. Mrs. Stanhope brushed away tears. Her husband radiated satisfaction. Edward looked more serious than Ellie had ever seen him.

She triumphantly sang the final words:

A great stillness fell over the room. The bubble of a huge coffeepot on a nearby stove sounded loud in Ellie’s ears. Then a storm of applause reached the rafters. Ellie’s tears flowed, and she stumbled to a seat.

Marvin Stanhope walked to the front. His face glowed with love. “There is greater rejoicing in heaven over one lost sheep who is returned to the fold than for all those who never go astray. Please bow your heads.”

A ripple of movement crept through the audience.

Ellie could scarcely contain her feelings when Marvin said, “Tonight the Good Shepherd is seeking those who are lost. He is not out on some wild, bare mountain or in a deep valley, but here with us. Lord, if there’s one in this place who is willing to follow You, let that person come forward.”