Finally a Bride (19 page)

The marshal nodded. “Sounds a whole lot like Jack’s story and mine. She uses my last name now.”

Hope spread through him. Maybe this man did understand. “Yeah, it does. Anyway, my real last name was … Laird.” He attempted to swallow the lump in his throat. “And everyone knew me by Butch.”

For a moment, the marshal’s face remained passive. Then he scowled. “Butch Laird! You’re Butch Laird? That bully who caused Jack so much trouble?”

Remorse weighted down his shoulders. “Yes, sir.”

The marshal stepped closer, his gaze narrowed. “You don’t aim to cause her any more problems, do you?”

Noah blinked, not the least bit surprised at the vehemence in the marshal’s expression. The man had no idea how much trouble Jack had caused him by her lying and trickery, but he had no desire to be vindicated. The past was past. Why was it so easy to forgive her and not his own father? “No, sir. Nothing could be further from my mind. I came here to do the Lord’s work—and to make restitution for the bad things I did in the past. I’m not like I used to be, sir. Let me prove to you—and the town—that I’ve changed.”

Marshal Davis relaxed his stance and stepped back. After a few moments, a grin crept onto his face, both surprising and relieving Noah. “Would those two new pie plates Mrs. Burke said magically appeared on her back porch have anything to do with your making restitution?”

Noah shrugged and tried to keep a straight face, but he felt his lips quirk up on one side. “Maybe. The scriptures say that when you give, your right hand shouldn’t know what the left hand is doing.”

The marshal nodded. “All right. I hear you. But I do have to say that was the first time I responded to a complaint about intruders, only to discover they left something instead of taking stuff.” He smiled then rested his hands on his hips and stared at the ground. “There’s one thing I do need to ask—were you the one who painted
Jack is a liar
all over town that day you left?”

He’d all but forgotten that stupid deed and deeply regretted painting those words, but he’d been so angry. Jack had lied about something he no longer remembered, causing him to spend two days in jail, only to return home and take a beating from his pa for being gone so long and not being there to cook his meals. They even packed up and moved because his pa said he was getting into too much trouble, and they needed a fresh start. He stared at his fingers. It had taken days for that red paint to wear off his hands, a constant reminder of his stupid, impulsive deed. “Yeah, I did that, and I can tell you I’ve regretted it ever since.”

Jack’s father stared into his eyes, as if judging how truthful his words were. Finally, he nodded. “I believe you mean that.”

“I do. If I could do it over, I’d do things differently.”

The marshal placed his hand on Noah’s shoulder, warming his skin and his heart. “You had a hard time of things, son, and I want you to know that Jack told me the truth about everything after you left.”

Noah stared at the man, shocked all the way to his toes. “She did?”

“Yep. I’m sorry I was so hard on you back then, but I believed that little squirt. I never dreamed she’d tell me a falsehood.”

“She could be convincing.”

“And she had those two friends of hers always backing up whatever she said. It was your word against theirs. I’m sorry that I didn’t take you more seriously.” He yanked off his hat and smacked it against his leg. “I feel like I let you down, son. I’m sorry for not believing you.”

Overhead, a robin chirped a cheerful tune, oblivious to the turmoil Noah was experiencing. He never expected the marshal to apologize and didn’t quite know how to take it. He’d always been the one blamed whenever there was trouble, and no one had ever taken his side on things, even when he was the one who’d been wronged. “It’s all right. I understand.”

Luke Davis locked gazes with him. “I reckon you had more character back then than I gave you credit for.”

A place deep within Noah sparked and glowed as he saw respect blossom in the marshal’s eyes.

“I don’t remember you ever tattling on Jack.”

He shrugged. “It wouldn’t have done any good. Nobody believed anything I said.”

“Is that why you haven’t told people who you are?”

Was that the real reason? Or could it have something to do with Jack? He lifted one shoulder and dropped it again. “Maybe. Do you think anyone would come to church if they knew the old town bully, Butch Laird, was preaching?”

“You’ve got a point, but you might be surprised. Lots of new folks who never heard of Butch Laird have moved here and attend church, and plenty of others would come out of curiosity.”

Noah watched a dog slink over to someone’s trash pile a few houses down and snitch a piece of garbage. The mutt carried it over to a nearby tree and lay down in the shade, chewing on his find. He’d felt just like that unwanted creature when he’d previously lived in Lookout. “You honestly think if folks knew they’d give me a chance?”

The marshal set his hat back on his head, then rubbed his chin with his forefinger and thumb. “Some would, some wouldn’t. But you’ll never know for certain unless you come clean.”

Noah wiped his sweaty brow with his forearm. “I plan to tell folks, but I’d hoped to wait a month or so and let them see me for who I am now. I’m a new creation in Christ, Marshal. I can assure you, I’m not like I used to be.”

Marshal Davis nodded. “All right. I appreciate your being honest with me. But there’s one thing I have to know: How does Jack figure in to all of this?”

At the mention of her name, his heart bucked, but she wasn’t the reason he’d come back to Lookout. “When Pete first told me about the letter he’d received from Pastor Taylor, I closed my ears and wouldn’t listen. Lookout was the last place I wanted to be.”

The marshal grinned. “I reckon we’ve got more in common than we first realized. I felt the exact same way about returning here, but look what God did for me. He let me marry the only woman I ever loved, we’ve got four great—albeit ornery—kids with another on the way, and they’re all healthy and smart. I’d have never dreamed all that could happen to me, but God has greater plans for us, son, than we can ever imagine.”

Noah closed his eyes, accepting the man’s encouragement into his heart. Growing up the way he had, not ever seeing anything good coming from his life, had been discouraging. Pa had beat him down both physically and verbally. Other kids had gotten him in trouble for things he’d never done. It was only by the grace of God that he was standing here. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate the encouragement.”

He nodded; then an odd expression engulfed his face. “I just had a thought—that’s why you won’t eat pork, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Living on a hog farm, I ate pork three meals a day. Oft times it was all we ate. I just can’t stomach it anymore.”

“I noticed.” The marshal grinned. “Well, I reckon I’ve kept you from your work long enough. All I ask is that when you feel the time is right that you tell Jack before you reveal your identity to the rest of the town. She’ll probably need some time to work through that.” He glanced down the alley for a moment. “She was real sorry after you left and told me that she had wanted to apologize for lying about you on more than one occasion.”

“She actually told you that she lied?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “The deception ate at her until she couldn’t hold it in any longer, and she had to come clean. Jack has a good heart, but she sometimes buries it deeply to protect it. Her other pa was cruel and had no problem hitting women. It’s no big surprise that Jack has trouble trusting men. I’ve been trying for ten years now to fix the damage James did.”

Noah wasn’t sure if he should confess his current thoughts, but the marshal might as well know the whole story. “Though she did anger me at times, I always admired her spunk. I had a little sister for a few years who wasn’t scared of anything, but she took sick and died. I suppose Jack reminds me a little of her. I just wanted to be Jack’s friend, but she never gave me a chance.” Bertha Boyd stuck her head out the back door and stared. She must have recognized the marshal, because she quickly ducked back inside.

The older man clapped his hand on Noah’s shoulder again. “Jacqueline’s changed—somewhat. Give her another chance, but just don’t break her heart.”

Noah snorted a sarcastic laugh. The marshal gave him far more credit than he deserved if he thought he’d have any influence over Jack’s heart. “Hurting her is the last thing I want to do, but I seriously doubt you have anything to worry about on that account.”

A strange look passed across the marshal’s face. “Don’t be too sure of that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

Noah frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The Lord sure works in mysterious ways.” The marshal grinned and shook his head. “Sorry, Noah, you’re gonna have to figure that out on your own.”

Chapter 14

D
ressed in his Sunday preaching suit, Noah sat on the boardinghouse’s front porch, trying to decide if he ought to go to the social or stay back and study his sermon some more. He tapped the edge of the chair in time with the lively music playing in the vacant lot next to the church.

Across the street at the mercantile, a buggy pulled to a stop, and a tall man climbed out and took the steps to the boardwalk two at a time. The door flew open, as if someone had been standing there waiting for him. Mrs. Morgan stepped out, looking pretty in a rose-colored gown, followed by her daughter in a fancy dress in a brown and light green fabric. Both women’s hair had been piled onto the crown of their heads, although the daughter also had blond ringlets hanging down from her topknot. Dainty bonnets adorned their heads.

Noah shook his head, glad that he was a male and only had to comb his hair. How did they manage to keep all their tresses up with just a handful of hairpins?

The trio crowded into the buggy and drove down the street. Several groups of people wandered past the boardinghouse dressed in their finery. Men escorted their ladies, who were decked out in almost every color of the rainbow. They reminded Noah of a field of spring wildflowers. What color would Jack’s dress be?

He gripped the end of the arm rest. Would she even come?

He’d seen her limping around the house this afternoon, but knowing she’d been watching him work without a shirt, he’d not been able to meet her gaze. He couldn’t help wondering why she’d been staring and if she’d liked what she saw.

He sighed and shook his head. “Forgive me, Father. Keep my mind set on things above, not things on earth.”

Closing his eyes, he prayed about Sunday. Prayed that he would preach a sermon that would touch hearts. Prayed that he wouldn’t be so nervous that he’d mess up like he’d done the first few times he’d preached.

He kept his head back and eyes shut as he prayed for the Davis family. Thank You, Lord, for Luke’s support. Bless Mrs. Davis, and let her baby be delivered safely. And Jack … I don’t even know what to say. Touch her heart, and draw her closer to You.

He heard rustling and peeked out one eye. Alan and Abby Davis were hunkered down, tiptoeing around the side of the house. Quiet giggles filled the air like the sweet scent of pies cooking.

“He’s asleep.” Abby giggled again.

“No he ain’t,” Alan said. “He’s just resting his eyes like Papa does when he’s tired.”

“Nuh-uh, he’s sleeping.”

Noah couldn’t help letting out a fake snore as he peeked out one squinted eye.

“See! I told you.” Abby shoved her brother’s shoulder.

Curling his lips, Noah tried not to smile. Both of these children reminded him of Jack, even though he hadn’t known her when she was so young.

He faked another snore then fluttered his lips as he blew out a breath. Childless laughter sounded to his right.

“Oh, dear.”

That was no child’s voice. His eyes flew open and landed on an emerald green skirt. Jack’s skirt. He bolted out of the chair, and his hat flopped off his lap and rolled across the porch floor. Squeals of laughter echoed beside the porch.

“I wasn’t sleeping. I was just playing with your brother and sister.”

Jack lifted her brows as if questioning if he was being truthful. Her dark blue eyes sparkled, and her auburn hair had been pinned up in a fashionable style that revealed her slender neck. His gaze traveled down her pretty dress, skimming past her bodice to her narrow waist and her flared skirt. Sometime in the past ten years, Jacqueline Hamilton Davis had blossomed from a coltish tomboy to a beautiful woman.

He lifted his gaze and smiled, receiving a shy grin back. A becoming rose red stained her cheeks. Her neck was lightly tanned, but the skin on her shoulders, which was normally covered by her shirtwaist, was a creamy white that just ached to be touched. He reached for the basket that hung on one of her arms to keep his hand busy and shoved the other one into his pocket. He shuffled his feet. He’d never known how to relate to Jack when she was a spunky young girl, but he felt even more discombobulated with this very pretty, feminine version.
Help me, Lord
.