Prairie Storm (19 page)

“Someone like me? Who do you think I am?” she asked, turning her blue eyes on him. “Don't be fooled by my appearance, Elijah. I'm not a porcelain doll. I've made a lot of wrong choices, and I've done things a good woman shouldn't. I've been hard and angry and bitter. I've gone my own way in life, and I've carved out a rough path. An opera house would welcome the likes of me. I'd fit right in.”

Eli pulled the mule up to the front of the Hankses' house. “I would have, too, in the old days. I did a lot of things a man couldn't brag about, Lily, and I expect I'll make my share of mistakes in the years to come. But there's one big difference inside me now.”

“Please don't start preaching, Elijah.”

“I'm not preaching—I'm telling you about
me
. Who I am. Do you care at all?”

“Yes,” she said softly.

“I'm walking God's path, not my own, Lily. I'm following his light, not stumbling around in the dark. I won't choose wrong when he shows me what's right.”

“But I'm scared.”

“Be scared of your father. Be scared of Beatrice. Be scared of me, if you want. I'm a long way from perfect. But don't be scared of God. All he wants to do is love you, Lily. He wants to love you with the kind of love that never fades.”

She clenched his hand. “I can't let go. I've worked too hard to take hold of my own life.”

“Are you holding it? Or is Beatrice?” He reached up and touched her cheek. “Lily, don't give your life away anymore. Not to people. We're selfish and greedy and pretty rotten most of the time. And don't try to hold it yourself. You told me you've made a lot of wrong choices, and you're bound to make more mistakes. But God isn't. He won't. You can count on that.”

Eli reached down and pulled up the brake lever on the wagon as Ben and Eva Hanks stepped out of their house to greet them. This had been a long road. A wearying path. But it was the right path. He was sure of that.

Chapter 10

M
Y HUSBAND built that pew and brung it to church, and that big ol' German feller has took to settin' on it ever' Sunday.” Mrs. Hudson's small dark eyes sparked. “That's
our
pew, Preacher, and you better tell him to find another!”

Elijah took the elderly lady's hand in his and regarded her seriously. “I'm sure Rolf Rustemeyer doesn't mean a thing against you folks by sitting on your pew,” he said. “This will be my fourth Sunday in Hope, and I've never heard a selfish or harsh word out of the man. In fact, I think he regards your family with the highest esteem.”

Mrs. Hudson patted her silver hair. “I reckon he should. We're good people.”

“Yes, you are.”

“If my son hadn't died, we'da never come to Hope. But we aim to keep helpin' his poor widder with all them young'uns as long as we's needed. Violet and them kids is all we got in the world, Brother Elijah.”

“They're good young'uns. And the Widow Hudson is a mighty fine mama to them.”

“She sure is, and I don't want that shaggy ol' German to get no designs on her! You hear me?” She shook her finger at Eli. “Him a-settin' on our pew ever' Sunday and makin' big puppy-dog eyes at Violet. It's a downright disgrace.”

Bull's-eye!
Elijah struggled to hold back a victory grin. He hadn't been at this business of shepherding a flock for long, but he was getting better at it all the time. Maybe he wasn't tracking down the wayward and lost in the wilds of China, but he was working just as hard at rounding up the truth in little old Hope. And he liked the challenge.

“I don't believe Rolf Rustemeyer sitting on your pew is what's really troubling you, Mrs. Hudson,” he said in a gentle tone. “I suspect it's the prospect of a man courting your daughter-in-law. You don't want anybody taking your son's place in her heart, do you?”

“I certainly do not.” Her righteous indignation began to dissolve into sorrow. “Jim was our only son, don't you know. We didn't have no other kids, Preacher. When we heard about him a-passin' on, well, I just like to have died myself. But now, thanks to the good Lord, we got more young'uns than we know what to do with. Don't you see how it is? We lost our son, but we been given that passel of kids in his place. If that long-haired German feller thinks he can take Violet and them babies away from us—”

“Rolf Rustemeyer would never want to deprive you or your husband,” Eli said, patting her hand. “I'm sure he sees you two as part of the family.”

“You reckon?”

“I know for a fact that he's a lonely man, and I have a feeling he'd make Violet a fine, hardworking husband. I'm sure he'd welcome all her kin into his home—young and old alike.”

She considered this new thought for a moment. “Well, that might not be so bad. He's got hisself a nice place, I hear.”

“He's one of the most successful farmers around. Plus he was partners with Seth Hunter and Jimmy O'Toole in building the bridge and founding the town of Hope. That means he's taking in some of the profits from the bridge tolls. Why, he's one of our most prosperous citizens. You never know, Mrs. Hudson. God may have sent Rolf Rustemeyer your way. That hardworking German might be the best thing to come along for your family in a mighty long time.”

Her dark eyes lighting up, Mrs. Hudson gave Elijah a smile. “I do declare, Preacher, you might be right.”

“Even if nothing comes of his friendship with Violet, it wouldn't hurt to have such a fine man sharing your pew on Sunday, would it?”

“We'll see that Mr. Rustemeyer has the best seat in the house of the Lord.” Standing, she shook out the folds of her patched calico skirt and slipped on her faded bonnet. “Brother Elijah, I do declare, I believe you was the one sent here by God. I heard what you done 'bout fixin' up a town graveyard behind the church. That's gonna be mighty welcome, don't you know. And folks is talkin' over the way you sat with the Rippeto family when their littlest was took sick. You're doin' a good job. Such a good job that I don't even hardly mind givin' my tithe of a Sunday.”

Elijah stood and tucked his Bible under his arm. “I appreciate your kind words, Mrs. Hudson.”

“I'm a-goin' now, and I thank you for your time.”

“Much obliged.”

With a smile tickling his mouth, Eli watched the diminutive lady make her way down the aisle between the rows of rickety benches. A little sheep heading back into the safety of the fold. With the Lord's help, he had rescued another lamb from the wolves of jealousy, fear, greed, and covetousness that threatened Christ's body in Hope.

“And one more thing, Brother Elijah,” Mrs. Hudson said, turning in the doorway. “We-all think you'd best get yourself a wife. A preacher ought to have a wife. It just ain't right any other way. Especially if he's already got hisself a baby.”

“Well, I appreciate your thoughts, Mrs. Hudson.”

“We-all like that Lily Nolan pretty good. She's got a nice face and a gentle hand, and she seems to take to your boy.”

Eli's humor faded.
We-all
. Who were
we-all
to stick their noses into his personal business anyway? If he wanted their opinion, he'd ask for it.

“She seems to like you real good,” Mrs. Hudson went on. “We-all took note of how she laughs at your stories and turns bright pink when you look at her. We-all think you ought to court her formal-like. Make it official, Preacher, and you'll do the town good.”

Eli drank in a deep breath to calm himself. “I do care about this town, Mrs. Hudson, but I've got to think about other things, too. I'm sure you'll be the first to know when I make up my mind to go courting.”

With a laugh of delight, the old woman stepped out of the church into the afternoon sunshine. Eli gave the bench nearest him a shove with his boot.
Baa, baa, you little sheep
, he thought.
Head back to the fold and gossip with your friends
. If she and her cronies knew what he felt like inside—torn to shreds every time he so much as caught a glimpse of Lily Nolan—they'd think twice about prying.

Truth to tell, he'd been doing all he could to keep away from Lily Nolan. After a week back in Hope, he was hoping that Beatrice Waldowski would fail to make good on her threat of returning to the little town. He could tell that Lily was starting to feel free of her past—freer and lighter and happier than he'd ever seen her. She fairly lit up the whole sky when she walked by. In his effort to avoid the woman whose presence stirred him so deeply, he'd finished the fence around the church, dug and planted a garden, visited everybody in town at least once, and almost read the whole New Testament straight through.

She's not a Christian
, he wanted to tell the snoopy Mrs. Hudson.
Lily isn't a believer, and because of that, she wouldn't make me a good wife. A pretty face and gentle hands aren't enough to build the foundation of a good marriage. It takes a shared faith, a joint trust in Jesus Christ, a united front against the destructive forces of the world
.

Not only had his Lord discouraged marriage between a Christian and an unbeliever, but Elijah knew it would never work from a practical standpoint. Whether he was going to be a pastor in Hope or a missionary in China, he needed a full-fledged partner. And Lily Nolan could not be his—not in any way.

Grabbing his hat, Eli stalked toward the room at the back of the church where he made his home. He couldn't understand why Lily had started attending his preaching services. And he wished he'd never asked her to talk so honestly about her father. Now, every time he recollected their conversation in the wagon, he wanted to smash in the man's nose. How dare anyone hurt Lily? She was so sweet, so kind, so tender—

“Hello, Elijah,” Lily said as he walked into his living room. She was sitting on the floor playing with Samuel. “Hope you don't mind that I came inside. Eva and I baked some cookies this morning. It's Mother Margaret's recipe. I brought you some.”

Eli stopped dead still and stared at her. Her pale blue skirt swirled around her on the floor like a rippled pond. Sunlight danced in the fine strands of her golden hair. As she looked up at him, her eyes sparkled with a blue flame.

“Lily,” he managed.

“I trust I'm not interrupting.”

“No.” He cleared his throat. “I was just … just talking things over with Mrs. Hudson.”

Had Lily heard their conversation? Did she know what the townsfolk were saying about the two of them? If Lily thought for a minute that he would ever betray his vow to the Lord by courting a nonbeliever … but what if she thought he didn't care for her? What if his words to Mrs. Hudson made her think he didn't appreciate her as a woman? He did.
Lord, help me. I do wish I could take Lily into my heart
.

“I'll bet Mrs. Hudson was complaining about Rolf Rustemeyer sitting on the pew her husband built,” Lily said as she wiggled Sam's bare toes. “She wants it reserved for Violet and her children.”

“Aren't there any secrets in this town?” he asked, a little more gruffly than he intended. He walked across the room and set his Bible on the table. “I don't know when I've ever met such talkity people.”

“The truth is, Mrs. Hudson's afraid Mr. Rustemeyer will marry Violet and move her and all the children away to his farm,” Lily said, giving Sam's tummy a soft poke. “Why don't you have a cookie, Elijah? I want to know if you like them.”

Eli turned. “What did you just say?”

“Have a cookie. They're oatmeal.”

“I mean about Rolf and Violet. How did you know that's what was really troubling Mrs. Hudson?”

“It's just a feeling,” she said. “I've watched them all in church, and that's what I suspect.”

“You mean you just
know
?”

“Beatrice would say I'm psychic. She'd say the spirits told me. But I think I'm just a woman with two good eyes.”

Eli sat down at the table and thumped his fingers on the Bible. “It took me a good bit of tracking to piece together Mrs. Hudson's real trouble with Rolf Rustemeyer. But you figured it out right away. How did you do that?”

“I'm a
woman
, Elijah,” she said, giving a shy laugh. “We notice these things.”

“Maybe I ought to just take you on rounds with me. Then I wouldn't have to spend half the time beating the bushes to figure out what's really troubling folks. I've learned the problem is never what they tell me to start off with.”

“I'll go visiting with you,” she said. “I'd like that.”

“No.” He stood quickly. “That wouldn't be a good idea. Folks might get a wrong notion about us.”

“Oh?” She smoothed down the soft cotton gown Sam wore. “What's a right notion about us, Elijah?”

He gave her a wary glance and began to pace. Being cornered like a hunted grizzly was not a good feeling. If he told her he couldn't socialize too much with her because of her lack of faith, she'd be hurt. She'd believe he thought he was too good for her. It might even turn her more against the Lord.

But if he told her how he really felt about her—how much he enjoyed talking to her, listening to her, laughing and even crying with her—well, she'd think he was starting to care about her. He
did
care about her. But he couldn't. Shouldn't.

“You're taking care of Sam,” he said finally. “We're like business partners, I reckon. Aren't we?”

“Are we?”

Confound it
. He paced across the room and then back again.

“I'm paying you,” he said.

“You kissed me.”

“Not on purpose.”

“On accident?”

“Well, I'm not trying to seduce you the way Beatrice said, if that's what you think.”

“No. I never thought that.”

“I'm a man of honor.”