Prairie Storm (15 page)

“Yes, sir,” Elijah said, nodding with as much politeness as he could muster. He felt like punching them both in the nose. Clearly, these two men ran the saloon—and probably managed the soiled doves who plied their trade in the back bedrooms, too. But they were right. He hadn't gotten permission to preach.

“I apologize for upsetting you, gentlemen,” he said, adjusting his Stetson on his head. “The ladies and I were just leaving.”

“For good,” one of the men added, sticking a stubby finger in Elijah's chest. “Take these women and your bags, too. We don't need the likes of you folks at the Crescent Moon.”

“I'm afraid he's right, sir,” the clerk said with an apologetic smile. “The manager just told me that we can't let you stay the next two nights, like you'd planned.”

Eli glanced at Lily. With a roll of her eyes, she transferred Samuel into Mother Margaret's arms and headed back up the stairs to fetch the women's baggage. In a moment she returned carrying their few possessions, and the group left the hotel.

As Elijah steered the wagon in the direction of the waning sun, he mused on the disturbance he'd created in the lobby. Truly, he hadn't intended to upset anybody. Something inside him demanded that he speak. He thought of the apostle Paul and his determination to preach in spite of shipwrecks and stonings and prison sentences. That was just how Eli felt. He
had
to tell folks about Jesus—no matter what.

Glancing at Lily seated beside him on the bench, he tried to read the expression on her face. Was she angry? Disgusted? Did she think him a fool?

Becoming aware of his steady gaze, she met his eyes and lifted her determined chin. “You were wrong, Reverend Book,” she said.

“I probably should have asked permission,” he agreed. “A fellow ought to respect those in authority.”

“You were wrong about something you said.”

“I was?” He scratched his forehead, trying to remember his own sermon. It wouldn't surprise him a bit if he'd put his foot in his mouth. Maybe he'd even gotten his Scriptures mixed up. Without his Bible, he couldn't be sure. Where had he put that book anyhow?

“Was it the part about being the trail boss of my own life?” he asked her. “I know that didn't make much sense. See, when all us cowhands were driving cattle north to market, we followed a trail boss who—”

“You said God protects us always.”

“I did?” He didn't remember that. “I said he loves us. He wants to forgive us and live inside our hearts.”

“Last night, right here in this wagon, you told me the Bible said God always protects us. You were wrong.”

Eli tugged on the reins and turned the mule south. He did recall talking with Lily about that. But he couldn't remember exactly what he'd told her.

“I couldn't sleep last night,” she said, “so I slipped into your room and borrowed your Bible.” She pulled the book from beneath her white shawl and set it on his lap. “Hope you don't mind. Anyhow, I searched all night and I never did find a single verse that promises God's constant protection. You were wrong.”

Lifting his focus to the pink-tinged sky, Eli tried to make sense of her statement. Why was she telling him this? What did it mean?

“I guess I
was
wrong,” he said finally. “I was thinking about the apostle Paul a couple of minutes ago, and I recollected all those shipwrecks he suffered. Also, folks threw stones at him and tossed him into prison. He wrote down that he figured he'd gone through just about every terrible problem a fellow could face—and you're right, God didn't spare him from any of that.”

“Ha!” she said. “Everybody lied to me. God doesn't protect us. He's useless.”

“If all you want to do is skip through life on a rainbow, I guess so. But Paul said he was filled with joy in all his sufferings. If you want to grow into someone beautiful and useful to God, Lily, I suspect he's got to do a little molding. I don't know exactly what you've been through, but I do know one thing. You can let your trials turn you bitter and angry, or you can give your heartaches to the Lord. Then he'll use you to reach out to other folks hurting just as bad, and through you, he'll draw them to himself.”

Lily sat in silence after that, and Eli didn't know what else to say. He figured he'd probably done enough preaching for one day. Besides that, he was scared he might run Lily off, and Samuel was just beginning to perk up. The baby's cheeks were pink again, and he'd done a fair amount of fussing during the night. Eli had never thought he'd actually look forward to the sound of Sam's squalling.

“There she is,” Lily said suddenly, shrinking toward him. “There's Beatrice. Oh, Eli, you've got to help me.”

Chapter 8

L
ILY?” Beatrice Waldowski leaned forward, hands on her hips, and squinted at the approaching wagon. “Lily Nolan, is that you?”

Taking a deep breath and shifting away from Elijah, Lily lifted her hand in greeting. “Hello, Beatrice! We came from Hope yesterday. How are you?”

“I knew you'd come to your senses!” Grabbing her green silk skirts, Bea hurried down the steps of the rickety boardinghouse. “Oh, Lil, just wait till you hear what I've been up to! I've got everything organized. You won't believe the things we can do with—”

She stopped and stared at Elijah. “Who's he?” she said. “Is that the preacher, Lily?”

“Elijah Book,” he answered for the woman at his side. Taking off his hat, Eli gave Beatrice a polite nod. “Been a while.”

“Not long enough,” she said. “Lily, I hope this man doesn't plan to stay around. You and I have a lot of work to do. We've got plans—plans that
don't
include him.”

Lily swallowed. “Mr. Book, Mrs. Hanks, and I came to Topeka to see a doctor about the preacher's baby. A spider bit Samuel.” She motioned to Mother Margaret cradling the child in the back of the wagon. “He's better now.”

“That's nice,” Bea said, her voice flat. “I hope you don't expect me to put them all up here, Lil. This isn't a hotel, you know.”

“I was hoping we might be able to stay for a couple of nights. Maybe we could sleep in the show wagon. Bea, you and I need to talk about some things.”

The woman pushed her mass of dyed black hair behind her shoulder and gave Lily a sneer. “If you're still choosing to work for that preacher instead of me, Lily Nolan, I don't see that we have much to say to each other. You've made yourself clear.”

Hurt that her friend would reject her once again, Lily started to climb down from the wagon. Elijah's hand on her arm stopped her. Turning toward him, she read the plea in his blue eyes.
Don't go. We can find another place to stay. You don't need this woman
.

But Lily did need Beatrice. She needed the melodeon. And she needed … perhaps … the reassurance that she hadn't completely lost the one true friend she'd ever known. Pulling away from Elijah, Lily stepped down from the wagon and walked toward Beatrice.

“Don't turn me away, Bea,” she said softly. “You saved me from my father once. For so long, you and Ted and Jakov were all the family I had. I trusted you.”

“I trusted you, too. You let me down.” “I'm sorry.” Lily stopped a pace away. “I chose to take on a job that would put food in our mouths, Bea. I wanted to help you the way you helped me. What's wrong with that?”

Bea's painted eyes flicked to Elijah. Slipping her arm quickly through Lily's, she turned the younger woman away from the wagon. “You scared me so bad, Lil,” she whispered when they were far enough away that Elijah couldn't hear. “Can't you see how that preacher is just like your father? I knew he'd fill your head with his pretty lies. What's he been telling you? Does he cast doubt on your certainty that holiness lies inside your very own spirit—that you are the essence of the divine?”

“Well, he does preach from the Bible, but—”

“Does he try to woo you into his confidence and make you believe he's telling you the truth? You know what religious men are like, Lil. Look at your father—how different is that cowboy preacher from the man who told you about God's love and then blackened your eye?”

“But Mr. Book is not—”

“Has he put his arms around you? Has he tried to kiss you? You know what he's after, Lily. He'll tell you he's trying to win your soul, when it's your body he wants. Tell me he hasn't kissed you.”

Lily flushed. “Well, he did kiss my cheek—”

“I knew it! He'll use you up, just the way your saintly father did. He'll tell you one thing and treat you the opposite. Oh, Lily, honey, take your things out of that wagon and come with me right this minute. I'll get you into the house where he can't reach you. I'll keep you safe.”

Lily took her friend's hands and held them tight. “Elijah Book is not hurting me, Bea. He has no power over me, and I'm sure he doesn't want to use me in the way you think. The truth is, the preacher and I fight all the time, just like a pair of twisters stirring up twice the trouble every time we get near each other. The baby brought us together, that's all. Samuel needed my help—and he still does. Yesterday that poor child was nearly dead, Bea. He's only just beginning to perk up. I can't abandon him now.”

“Are you telling me you tracked me all the way through Topeka only to turn away from me all over again?” Bea pursed her trembling lips. “I swear, when I saw you on that wagon, Lily, I thought this was going to be the best day of my life. You don't know how my spirit rose inside me. It was like all the angels were singing. But now … now …”

“Beatrice, don't cry.” Lily drew her friend close and wrapped both arms around the older woman. The familiar scents of heavy perfume and incense drifted up from Bea's green silk dress. “I'm here now.”

“It's just that … that the cards told me that today was going to bring a surprise … and I was hoping … hoping you'd come. Oh, Lil, I've been working so hard to set things up for us. I wanted to tell you everything. It's going to be so wonderful, and I wanted you to share in my joy.”

“Why don't you let us stay here with you a short while, Beatrice?” Lily asked gently. “You can tell me all your plans. We'll take Samuel back to the doctor in a couple of days, and once he's completely well, we'll know which way to go.”

“Will you let me read your fortune?”

Lily's heart sank. It wasn't that she didn't trust the tarot cards. It was just that … well, she didn't want to cloud her thinking with Bea's psychic premonitions and forebodings. For so many years she had put her faith in the words of her ministers and Bible teachers. After rejecting them, she had come to trust Beatrice's mystic powers.

But now … for the first time … Lily didn't want to count on anyone. She wanted to search for truth. She wanted to find answers. And she wanted to do it alone.

“Has that preacher turned you against the cards, Lil?” Bea asked, her eyes moist. “Because if he has—”

“The tarot cards let me down, Bea. The cards didn't predict Abigail's sickness. They failed to warn me.” Lily looked down at her knotted fingers, fighting the tears that arose every time she thought of her beloved daughter. “But even worse than that, the cards didn't offer any comfort after my baby died. I had nothing but emptiness. No hope, no future, no peace.”

“And you think the Bible can do any better?”

“I think I want to sit down and nurse Samuel Book. I want to rest my tired bones. And I want to figure this out for myself.”

Beatrice sniffed. “If that's how you feel.”

“Do you have room for us?”

“The old woman will have to sleep in the wagon. The preacher can bunk down in the men's quarters. You can stay with me.”

“I'll sleep with Mother Margaret,” Lily said as she gave her friend a quick hug. “I don't want to leave her alone.”

Her sense of relief mingling with uncertainty, Lily returned to the wagon and told the others the news. As Elijah climbed down from the wagon, he assessed her, clearly trying to ascertain the truth in the situation. After he removed his saddlebag, he caught Lily's sleeve and drew her to one side.

“You all right?”

She nodded. “But please don't start preaching in the boardinghouse and get us tossed out. We can't see Dr. Schlissel again for two days, and I won't risk Sam's health over another one of your outbursts.”

“Outbursts? Was that what it was?”

“Oh, Elijah, you know you rolled right over those people like a great big thunderstorm. You didn't care a whit about the consequences. You just went right ahead and—”

“The consequences were that ten people came to know Jesus Christ this afternoon. I cared about
that
.”

Lily bit her lip and stared into his sparkling blue eyes. Yes, he did care about that. No one could deny the fervor in the man's heart. Beatrice Waldowski embraced her faith in the spirit world, held it tightly, claimed it for herself. But Elijah shared his beliefs with everyone he met, as though he was so full of Jesus Christ that he could do nothing to dam the flood of his joy.

In a way, the two were as opposite as two people could be. Bea trusted her inner spirit to be her guide; Elijah trusted the Spirit of God to lead him. Bea pursued self-fulfillment; Elijah emptied himself to everyone around. Bea made plans that would bring glory to herself; Elijah took on a dying baby and gave away his life's savings to rescue the child.

“Elijah,” Lily said, “I wanted to find Beatrice for one reason. She took something valuable of mine. I need to get it back.”

The preacher slung his saddlebag over his shoulder. When he spoke, his voice was filled with tenderness. “Oh, Lily, I hope what you're looking to get back from that woman is something more valuable than diamonds or gold. I hope it's your precious soul.”