Molly Noble Bull (20 page)

The child’s enthusiasm for kites would serve as Jeth’s secret weapon. He hoped Timmy would convince Willie Sharp and the others that kite-making was fun and so was learning about the Lord. And if kites didn’t appeal to Willie, there was always the hard candy that Jeth had put in his pocket as a treat.

Jeth stopped the wagon in front of the Sharp home. As he tied up the reins, he looked around. Three horses were penned nearby. None of them was red.

The carpenters were gone now. Apparently, the house repairs had been completed. Would he finally meet Mr. Sharp and his older sons? If not, he hoped Willie and his mother would be home.

He gave Timmy a gentle nudge. “Wake up, boy. It’s time to go inside.”

Timmy yawned. “Now, where did you say we were going?”

“To the Sharp Ranch. We’re here now. The Sharps have a son, Willie. Remember, I told you about him.”

“Is Willie the one who wants to build a kite?”

“Willie might not know anything about kites. You’ve got to be his teacher and invite him to church and to boys’ fun night.”

“Oh, yes. That’s where boys my age get together at the church and make things. When did you say fun night was going to start?”

“After the first of the year.”

“And can we ring the church bell sometimes on fun nights? I sure think that would be fun.”

Grinning, Jeth jumped from the wagon. “We’ll have to see about that.” He swung Timmy down. “Come on now. Let’s go inside and talk about kites.”

Mrs. Sharp’s outlook on life seemed to have changed since Jeth’s first visit. Her house looked clean and neat and so did her clothes. Her hair had a shine to it, and he saw a sparkle in her eyes. Jeth had thought Mrs. Sharp was an old woman the first time he came. She looked much younger now. Best of all, she and Willie were in church every Sunday.

“Where’s Willie?” Jeth asked when they had settled in chairs in the parlor. “Timmy here wants to meet him.”

“He’s playing. I’ll go get him.” Mrs. Sharp got to her feet. “Now, you sit there. I’ll be right back.”

A minute later Willie raced into the parlor, smiling from ear to ear. “Did ya brung me any can—? Did ya brung me anything, Preacher?”

“Willie!” his mother scolded. “That ain’t nice. Now sit down and behave.”

“That’s all right, ma’am,” Jeth said. “I brought candy for the boys to eat later.”

Willie’s eyes glowed. “You did?”

Jeth nodded. Now all Jeth had to do was get Willie interested in church and the Bible.

“Have you ever made a kite, Willie?” Jeth asked.

“No, sir, I ain’t never. Least, not one what will fly.”

“Well, Timmy Rivers here knows all about kite-making, and he’s got a book that tells just how to do it. Would you like for Timmy to show you his book?”

“Yes, sir, I’d be obliged.”

“Then why don’t you take Timmy to your room or someplace and talk, while your mother and I sit here and visit?”

“Yes, sir.”

Jeth didn’t find out much about the Sharp gang during the time he spent with Mrs. Sharp. But she promised to stay after church on Sunday long enough to meet some of the folks in the congregation. She also promised to drive Willie to the church on fun night so that he could learn how to build kites.

Jeth smiled as he lifted Timmy into the wagon. It looked like his plans for bringing the young people in his congregation to the Lord just might work.

On the morning of December twenty-third, Honor stood in the middle of the kitchen floor, sweeping. Her belongings were packed in a potato sack and ready to go, and she’d returned the six-shooter to Mrs. Peters’s room. Her gifts for Jeth, his mother and Belinda were in the parlor under the Christmas tree.

Honor had saved enough to pay back what she had stolen from the church in Falling Rock, with enough left
over to live on for a while. Her purse, with the money inside, and her other possessions waited by the front door. Mrs. Peters was expected home today or tomorrow. All Honor needed to do now was to find the words to tell Jeth that she was leaving Hearten, Colorado—forever.

It wouldn’t be easy to leave Jeth. She knew now that she loved him. However, stealing money from a church was still on her conscience, and she was convinced that she wasn’t a proper companion for a preacher of the Gospel.

Lucas hadn’t come to get her after receiving John Crammer’s letter as she’d expected. But she knew he would arrive in a week or two to see Elmer’s filly, and she intended to be far away before then.

Jeth drifted inside and took a stance behind one of the kitchen chairs. Honor felt weak. She must tell him she was leaving now, and she still had no idea what words to use.

Honor glanced down at her broom. “You got another letter from your mother.”

“Did I?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t meet his eyes. “It’s on the desk in your office.”

“Honor,” he said with authority, “stop what you’re doing and come over here. There’s something I want to ask you.”

Her heart gave a lurch. She remembered the ring Jeth had bought. The thought of it made her insides turn to jelly. But even if he were to ask her to marry him, it was too late. She was leaving.

She forced herself to remain calm and continued sweeping. “I thought you would be out back with every
body else,” she said calmly, “looking at Elmer’s new baby. I heard it’s a black filly and that Elmer is really proud of her.”

“There’ll be plenty of time to see the filly. Right now, I need to talk to you. Will you please come over here and sit down, my dear?”

Dear. Had he said “my dear?” At last, she looked at him. Tender lights flickered in his blue eyes. Honor put away her broom and started toward him, as if she were drawn by an invisible string. He pulled out her chair. When she sat down, he reached for his chair and sat down, too.

“We need to talk about some things,” he began. “But first, I’m going to answer some of your questions. And then I hope you’ll answer some of mine.” He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “Is that agreeable with you, hon?”

Hon?
A thrill shot through her.

She liked the gentle way he spoke those endearing words. But what did all this mean? She couldn’t allow herself to think that “hon” and “dear” meant anything.

“I know you were curious about what I said to Sheriff Green the day we saw the little boy on that red horse. We discussed some of this once before, but not everything.” He pushed back a curl from her eyes with his forefinger. “You see, I hated to accuse someone of wrongdoing until I knew for sure he was guilty.” Jeth leaned closer. “But under the circumstances, it’s all right to tell you now.”

He gazed at her tenderly and brushed her wrist with his fingertips. Honor felt warm all over but tried not to show it.

“The little boy, Willie Sharp, is the youngest member of a local family,” he said as if nothing unusual was happening. “It’s possible that some of his brothers are outlaws. Not only does the Sharp Gang own the red horse young Willie was riding that day, I think they were responsible for the stagecoach robbery near Hearten, as well as the one in Pine Falls. So far, the sheriff hasn’t been able to prove anything, but I’m sure he will…. Do you have any questions?”

Is it me you love? she wondered. Or Lucy Jordan?

“Come on,” he urged. “Can’t you think of one little question? You’ve been wanting me to answer questions for weeks.”

“Most of my Bible questions have already been answered by reading the Good Book and listening to your sermons.”

“Wonderful.”

What was the matter with her? She needed to tell him she was leaving. Why couldn’t she bring herself to do it?

“Then please answer a couple of my questions,” he said. “Let’s start with your uncle. Was he cruel to you?”

Yes, she thought, averting her gaze.

She’d promised herself that she would disclose everything about her past today, and he’d provided a perfect opening, but she couldn’t seem to speak.

“Honor, was your uncle cruel? Or not?”

She struggled to get out a reply. “Sometimes.”

“Did he beat you and your aunt?”

She ran her forefinger around the edge of the sugar bowl in the center of the table, reluctant to meet Jeth’s eyes. “When he’d been drinking, he…” She couldn’t say more.

“He what?” Sympathy appeared to flow from him. “Lucas must have hurt you terribly. But as a Christian, you have to forgive your uncle, no matter what he’s done.”

Forgive Lucas? That was easy for Jeth to say. How could she forgive Lucas when she’d been unable to forgive herself for stealing church money?

At that moment, Belinda raced in the back door, out of breath. “Oh, Pastor!” she said, gasping. “Some riders came up while we were looking at Elmer’s filly. A-and another stage was robbed! People were injured!”

“Injured? No!” Jeth shot out of his chair and grabbed his hat. “Where are the riders now?”

“They rode off to get the doctor.”

“You and Mrs. Grant stay here,” Jeth said to Honor. “I have to see if I can help. My mother could be on that stage.”

Honor stood. “I’m coming, too.”

Jeth set his wide-brimmed hat on his head. “It’s too dangerous. You need to stay here, where you’ll be safe.”

“Not on your life. I’m going with you, like it or not.”

S
itting on the bench of the covered wagon next to Jeth, Honor wrapped a wool blanket over her head and around her shoulders. A cold, blustering wind was howling all around them. Four inches of frozen snow covered the road, trees and fields.

The horses labored to pull the load, stretching their tired muscles to the limit against the wind. Slowly, they plodded on toward the site of the robbery.

Jeth turned and said something to Honor, but the loud gusts of wind drowned out his voice.

Honor’s mind was aswirl with thoughts and memories of her life since arriving in Hearten. She and Jeth hadn’t talked since leaving the boardinghouse, but worry lines wrinkled his forehead. She guessed that he was terribly concerned about his mother.

Poor Mrs. Peters could be on that stage. She might be dead, and there was nothing that Honor could say that might make Jeth feel better.

Finally, when the wind died down, Honor heard noises and turned in her seat. Two other wagons filled with folks from Hearten were coming up behind them. She swung back around and faced the front again.

At last, she could make out the outline of the stagecoach in the distance. As the caravan grew closer, she saw that the carriage was turned on its side. People stood around it, Sheriff Green among them, but Honor didn’t see Jeth’s mother.

Before the wagon had even drawn to a full stop, Annie and Simon Carr plodded toward them in the snow.

“Look,” Honor exclaimed, pointing toward the elderly couple. “It’s the Carrs!”

“Yes.” Jeth sent her a half smile. “At least they’re all right. We can be thankful for that.”

Honor threw off her blanket and jumped down from the wagon, embracing Annie and Simon as if she’d known them all her life.

“We have more blankets in the wagon,” Honor called out, “if anyone needs them.”

“Thank you,” Simon Carr said. “’Spect we can sure use them quilts. It’s plenty cold out here.”

Jeth had climbed down from the wagon. Honor was aware of him coming up behind her.

“Was there another woman on the stage with you?” Honor asked Mrs. Carr.

“Yes.” Annie nodded. “A Mrs. Peters. She’s all right.”

“Thank You, Lord, for protecting my mother,”
Jeth prayed out loud. Looking relieved, he hugged the elderly couple. Then he handed them two feather quilts. “Where is she?”

Annie gestured toward the stagecoach. “Mrs. Peters is on the other side of the wagon, nursing her brother.”

“Uncle Lawrence?” Jeth hurried toward the wagon.

Honor followed after him.

Dr. Harris was bending over a wounded man, examining him. Jeth hurried to his mother and hugged her.

“It’s good to see you again, Mama. I’m so glad you’re safe. We were worried.”

“No need to worry about me,” Mrs. Peters said. “I’m fine. It’s my brother who needs our prayers.”

Honor stood a short distance away, wondering if she should step forward and help, or if she would be in the way. She could see blood trickling from a cut on the man’s head, but she couldn’t see his face.

“Miss McCall.” The doctor glanced a Honor. “Why don’t you wait over there with Mr. and Mrs. Carr. You might not like what you see here.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I might be able to help, Doctor. I’m staying.”

“What happened to Uncle Lawrence?” Jeth asked. “How was he hurt?”

Dr. Harris, continuing to treat his patient, spoke without looking up. “The stagecoach driver said that when he tried to outrun the outlaws, he made a sharp turn. The door flew open. Your uncle fell out and hit his head on something, possibly a rock.”

Honor looked on while the doctor struggled to wind a white cloth around the man’s head. Jeth and his mother crouched on the ground. Mrs. Peters handed the physician something from his black bag. The doctor turned the man’s
head toward Honor as he tied the white cloth in a knot at the back of his head.

Suddenly, Honor saw his face and felt faint. Lucas!

Stunned, she staggered away from the stagecoach, feeling weak and dizzy. Reaching out, she took hold of the closest thing she could find to keep from falling. Her fingers curled around the icy branch of a tree, and she paid no attention to the cold.

The name
Lucas
repeated over and over inside her head. No wonder she’d always thought that Jeth looked like her uncle.

The two men were related.

Fifteen minutes later, Honor stalked toward Jeth, who was standing under a tree on the other side of the stagecoach. Her emotional shock had turned to anger and most of it was aimed at him. How many times had she told Jeth that she and her uncle had never gotten along? Just because Jeth didn’t know everything that happened back in Falling Rock was no excuse. Did he really expect her to help nurse Lucas back to health? At the moment, her fury was so great that she couldn’t even look at him.

“Reverend,” she snapped, “by now your mother must have told you that your uncle is Lucas Scythe.” She put her hands on her hips. “You know how I feel about the man, and if you think I’m going to take care of him, your head must have dropped off and rolled down one of those hills out there.”

“Somebody has to,” Jeth replied calmly. “Mama and Mrs. Grant will have their hands full with the Carrs.”

“What’s wrong with Annie and Simon?”

“They did all right immediately after the robbery,” Jeth said, “but now, witnessing a second stage robbery in two months has them both upset, especially Annie. Dr. Harris suggested bed rest for her. And besides taking care of them, Mama and Mrs. Grant have the regular guests at the boardinghouse to see to.”

“But Dr. Harris will be with Lucas,” Honor reminded him. “Why should I—?”

“The man’s unconscious, Honor,” Jeth interrupted. “Your uncle couldn’t swat a fly, even if he wanted to.” He gestured toward a red horse on the ground nearby. “That horse was killed in the shootout today, and it’s the one that belongs to the Sharp Gang, I’m sure of it. I have to go back with the sheriff and sign a statement. Otherwise, the outlaws won’t be arrested. It’s not as if you have to take care of your uncle alone. The doctor and Mama will be there. Mrs. Grant will be there, too. And I’ll be back to help as soon as I can.”

Honor shook her head. She was quivering all over. “I…I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.” Jeth put his hand on her shoulder. “You’ll be able to do this, Honor. You’re a Christian now.”

She’d never told Jeth the real reason that she’d left the cabin in Falling Rock. Therefore he couldn’t know how being alone in a room with her uncle would unnerve her. What if Lucas came to himself and started leering at her again? Grabbed her? She closed her eyes briefly to shut out the frightening thoughts forming in her mind.
Memories of her uncle’s improper gazes still made her feel dirty, as if it was her fault instead of his.

Honor knew she should have told Jeth everything the day she arrived at the boardinghouse. He would have listened then, but shame had held her back. Would he listen now? She shook her head, answering her own question.

Lucas was Lawrence Smith, Jeth’s long-lost uncle, and his mother’s only brother.
As Aunt Harriet had always said, blood is thicker than water.

In a daze, Honor barely noticed when Jeth helped the doctor check the other victims for injuries. When it appeared no else was seriously hurt, Jeth and two other men loaded Lucas onto the back of the doctor’s wagon.

“I’ll be going into town with the sheriff,” Jeth told Honor as he climbed up onto the bench of his wagon. “We need to discuss a few things about the robbery.”

“What about me?” Honor asked.

“Would you mind riding in the doctor’s wagon with my mother and going back to the boardinghouse with them? Dr. Harris could probably use your help.”

Honor couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. “You want me to ride in the wagon with my uncle?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind.”

Honor studied Jeth seated on his high perch. He seemed so cold, so preoccupied. What had become of the man who had called her “dear” and “hon?”

The muscles in Honor’s stomach tightened as she climbed in the back of the doctor’s wagon. All her old fears had returned, playing in her mind like the noise of a child banging on an out-of-tune piano.

Honor jumped down as soon as the wagon reached the boardinghouse. Lucas had remained unconscious, but who could say when he might wake up? What would she do if he did? She should have kept the six-shooter under her bed.

Belinda Grant stood on the front porch. “Glad you’re home, Mrs. Peters,” she said warmly. “You, too, Miss Honor. What can I do to help?”

Mrs. Peters smiled. “Thank you, Belinda. I’ll take the Carrs to the bedroom upstairs. Mrs. Carr isn’t feeling too well. I think you should put the injured man downstairs in the room next to Elmer’s, near the kitchen. The stage driver and the man who rides shotgun will be eating here, but they’ll be staying with Dr. Harris until the stagecoach can be repaired.”

Mrs. Peters turned to Mr. and Mrs. Carr. “If you wouldn’t mind going upstairs without me, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“We don’t mind,” Simon said. “Do we, Annie.”

“No,” Mrs. Carr said, looking too upset to say more.

“You’ll be in the big corner room,” Regina Peters said. “You can’t miss it. There’s a number five over the door. Make yourself at home. And just leave your bags at the foot of the stairs. I’ll get them up to the second floor in a few minutes.”

Simon took their carpetbags, one in each hand. “No need to worry about them bags. I’ll have ’em up the stairs ’fore you can say, ‘Colorado blizzard.’”

When the elderly couple left, Regina turned to Honor. “As soon as you get my brother settled in his room, please meet me in the kitchen. I have something to tell you.”

Honor nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

By the time Honor got to her uncle’s room, the men had already laid Lucas on the bed. At the mere sight of him, bile burned the back of her throat.

Both Dr. Harris and Belinda were looking after him, so Honor excused herself and went into the kitchen to wait for Jeth’s mother. She didn’t know for sure what Mrs. Peters wanted, but she assumed it had something to do with Lucas.

When Mrs. Peters arrived a few minutes later, Honor was sitting at the table, but she jumped out of her chair.

“Can I get you something, ma’am? You must be exhausted after your ordeal.”

“Please, sit down. I don’t want anything now. Maybe later.” She opened her drawstring purse and pulled out a small wooden box.

Honor’s heart leaped in her chest. She could hardly believe her eyes. “Why, that’s—”

“Yes, it is.” Mrs. Peters smiled and handed the box to Honor.

After all this time, Honor was holding her grandmother’s pearl box. She lifted the lid, and forty-eight perfectly matched pearls winked back at her. “Oh, thank you, Mrs. Peters. But how…?” She took a deep breath and tried to smile. “You can’t know how much it means to me to get this back.”

The older woman got up from her chair and stepped behind Honor. “Would you like me to help you put on the necklace?”

“Oh, yes, please do.”

As Regina struggled with the clasp, Honor kept wondering how Jeth’s mother happened to have the pearls. She couldn’t bring herself to ask, she was so astonished to see the pearls that she had thought were lost forever.

When the necklace was fastened, Regina stepped in front of Honor again. “Let me take a look at you.” She grinned. “Smile.”

Honor beamed.

“Lovely. The pearls are as white and sparkling as your teeth.” The older woman’s pleasant expression faded. “Guess you’re wondering how I got the necklace in the first place.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She took in a deep breath and released it. “My brother, the man you call Lucas, wanted you to have them.”

“Lucas? Why would he want
me
to have them? He should have given them to me himself years ago.”

“He hadn’t planned to stop in Hearten. He was on his way back to his farm in Falling Rock. But the stage robbers changed all our plans.” Mrs. Peters hesitated. “And if it’s any comfort to you, I know he’s sorry for hurting you, Miss McCall, whatever it was he did. My brother said he planned to write you a letter. Do you think you can ever forgive him?”

Forgive him? At first, Honor didn’t know how to reply. “I don’t know right now, ma’am. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

Honor kept herself busy for the rest of the day, fixing meals, washing dishes, running here and there. She wanted
to gather her belongings and just walk away, but it wouldn’t be right until things settled down.

The boardinghouse provided rooms, nursing care, clean clothes and clean linens to all the victims of the robbery. Honor made a point of staying as far from Lucas’s room as possible. Let Belinda tend to my uncle’s needs, she thought.

Later, Honor put on her coat and knit scarf over her blue wool dress, and she and Belinda Grant went onto the back porch to do the weekly wash. The laundry consisted of soiled clothes belonging to the stagecoach passengers as well as the regular boarders.

From the porch, Honor gazed at the frozen ground and the hills beyond the pasture. A blanket of fresh snow partly masked the usual barnyard smells, but traces of unpleasant odors were still noticeable.

Elmer’s mare and filly were penned near the barn. On wobbly legs, the baby animal followed her mother into the barn. Belinda had said the filly had a white dot on her forehead, and she had suggested that Elmer name her Star.

Honor looked down at the tub of hot, soapy water. The thought of touching the shirt and trousers that Lucas had worn made her feel sick. She handed them to Belinda. “Will you wash these, please?” Honor started down the rock steps. “Nature calls.”

She went to the privy and shut the door, planning to stay there as long as possible. A few minutes later, with no excuse to tarry longer, she rejoined Belinda at the washtub.

Pinching her nose, Honor held up a pair of dirty blue socks filled with holes. “These must belong to the reverend.”

Belinda giggled. “I think you’re right.”

Honor smiled. Belinda’s giggle always lifted her spirits.