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Authors: Catherine Palmer

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BOOK: Prairie Storm
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“Elijah?”

“Hello, Lily,” he said without even having to look. The woman's touch on his arm and her sweet voice had become so familiar in the last three days. As he turned to her, Lily's blue eyes lit up. How amazing to see the changes God's love had wrought. When she sang hymns, the words flowed from her heart. When she recited Scripture, the verses poured out like honey. She no longer hurled religion at Elijah like accusing stones. Instead, she used her greater store of biblical knowledge to gently help him find the right pathway.

“Lily, just look at all these good folks,” he said, wishing he could tuck her under his arm and hug her warmly. “Instead of sending me out to round up the flock, God used the cyclone to drive the sheep right here to us.”

“But the wolves have followed, too,” she said. “Some of the builders from the opera house are coming down the road. They've been drinking, Elijah. I think they mean trouble.”

This was not the first time the Topeka men had wandered through town calling insults to the laborers and casting lewd suggestions at their wives. Seth Hunter had confronted them once, and they had retreated. This morning Jimmy O'Toole had brought his rifle to town.

“Maybe I should go talk to Beatrice,” Lily said. “I'm sure this is partly her doing. She's angry that I haven't returned to the opera house, so she encourages these fellows to come to town and bother people.”

“I wish you'd stay clear of that woman,” Elijah said. “If you go back to her—”

“What's the worst that could happen? I've made my choice.”

He studied the way the rays of late sunlight sent sparks of gold into her eyes and gilded her pale skin. Lily knew the Bible back to front. She'd heard a thousand sermons. But she was a baby in Christ. The woman had no idea of the power of sin to grip a struggling believer, tangle his feet, and try to drag him down. It was true—Lily had made her choice. But Elijah knew from his own experience that the chosen were subject to the devil's sneakiest attacks.

“I'll go talk to that fellow from the Crescent Moon myself,” he said. “He's a businessman. He'll understand the town's need to stick to the job of rebuilding. Maybe he'll call off his wolves.”

“You can't go over there, Elijah. Beatrice views you as her personal enemy, and Mr. Gibbons doesn't think highly of you either. You ran off his saloon customers, he figures, so why shouldn't he run off your congregation? There's nothing the two of them would like better than to keep the church from going up again.”

“We haven't done anything to them.”

“They're afraid your preaching will turn the town against the opera house.” She shook her head. “I learned a few things in my time with the traveling show, Elijah. Places like the opera house depend on a town's support. They'll rely on the mercantile for mail and supplies. They'll use the local farmers to supply their restaurant with fresh vegetables and butter. They'll hire women from town to clean and cook. In order to function, they need Hope.”

“Well, Hope doesn't need them.” He tossed down his hammer. “And they're not going to drive me out of town. I'm here to stay.”

The lines of worry between Lily's eyes softened. “Is this the same Elijah Book who was on his way to China?”

“I'll go to China if that's where God sends me. But right now he's sent me to Hope. A shepherd protects his flock, Lily. I'm going to talk to George Gibbons.”

“Well, if it ain't the preacher!” The group of five Topeka men swaggered up to the church. Their leader, a fellow in a filthy homespun shirt and a pair of ragged denim trousers, stepped forward. “And there's Miss Lily herself. The flower of the frontier. I do believe you read my palm back in Topeka, Miss Lily. You told me the two of us was gonna have a fine time one of these nights.”

“Listen here, buster—” Elijah nudged Lily behind him and moved toward the intruder—“I won't have you talk that way to Mrs. Nolan.”

“What claim you got on the lady, Preacher?”

“She's a citizen of this town and a member of my congregation. You stand back from her, you hear me?”

“Aw, don't you wanna shake your skirts at me, Miss Lily?” the man said, leering over Elijah's shoulder. “Come on, gal. Let's have us a little dance the way we did back in Topeka.”

“Leave the lass be!” Jimmy O'Toole shouted, lifting his rifle as he walked toward the five men. “We don't want your kind of rabble comin' around our town. And you shan't be actin' disrespectful to our ladies.”

“Nothin' wrong with a little dancin', is there, Irish?” The man began to sway his hips and wave a half-empty whisky bottle around. His companions laughed and elbowed each other. “Me and Miss Lily's gonna have us a fine time tonight, ain't we, gal? We'll sashay around the town a time or two, maybe stop by the saloon for a sip, and then I'm gonna give you a great big smooch!”

“You better take that back,” Elijah growled, grabbing the man by his collar. “Take it back.
Now!

As Elijah jerked the man half off his feet, the man's Topeka cohorts drew their six-shooters. The gathering crowd sucked in a collective gasp. Around the circle, Elijah discerned the men who had become his closest friends. Seth Hunter, Jack Cornwall, Rolf Rustemeyer, Jimmy O'Toole, and Ben Hanks—all of them but Jimmy unarmed. He could not let this confrontation turn into a bloodbath, and yet he wouldn't allow anyone to sully Lily's name.

“Set him down, Preacher,” another of the Topeka men said, ramming the barrel of his gun into Elijah's side. “Take your hands off'n my cousin, you hear?”

“I'll turn him loose when you fellows put your guns away and head out of town.”

“You turn him loose before I blow your guts to glory.”

“Elijah, please,” Lily said, laying a hand on his arm. “Let me speak to them.”

“Stay back, Lily. Rolf, take her out of here.”

“No!” she cried as the big German farmer reached for her. “Elijah, please let go of that man. What do you boys want, anyhow? I've already told Beatrice I'm staying here in town to earn my pay. I'm not going to sing for her.”

Elijah slowly released the fellow's collar as Lily pushed her way to the center of the crowd. Giving his neck a vigorous rub, the man spat a gob of tobacco juice at Elijah's feet. Then he straightened his shirt and faced Lily.

“Mrs. B says you don't belong with these folks,” he told Lily. “She says they've bamboozled you into joinin' them and givin' up your true friends and your callin' as a opera singer. That preacher done suckered you in by gettin' you attached to his baby. Now you're as stuck as you were back in Philadelphia. Mrs. B told us to come down here and remind you of all the fun you're missin'—and all the money.”

He took a leather pouch from his back pocket and shook it in her face. The jingle of coins told the crowd he meant what he was saying. Giving his pals a smirk of victory, he pulled a silver dollar from the pouch.

“There's good wages to be had over to the opera house,” he told the crowd. “Don't you folks want to get out of the sun? Don't you want to put your plows away for good? We got all kinds of work to be done and steady pay for anybody who'll do his job. Ain't that right, boys?”

The other men let out a roar of agreement, lifting their liquor bottles and stomping their feet. “We're gonna open up for business tomorrow night,” their leader shouted. “How many of you want to join us? Come on, Miss Lily, you be the first to step forward. Show these folks you know how to live!”

Elijah clenched his fists in anger as Lily lifted her hands for silence in the midst of the gathering.
Lord, don't let them take her
.
Protect her, Father! Protect her now!

“I'm sure you boys have big plans,” she said, her voice taking on the worldly bravado Elijah had heard so many times before. “Sounds good, doesn't it, everybody? Big, fat purses filled with coins. Easy work. Cheap liquor. Lots of fun.”

“That's right, Miss Lily!” the Topeka man said. “You tell 'em.”

“I've been there before. I've done that kind of work, and I'll tell you gentlemen exactly what it's like.” She looked into the eyes of each farmer standing around her. “It's sleeping all day and staying awake all night—long, cold, lonely nights. It's a full stomach but an empty heart. It's footloose and fancy-free—but no home to call your own. No family. No true friends. If you want to give up your dreams, your hopes, your very future, join these fellows over at the opera house. But if you want peace, comfort, and an eternal home, you'd better stay with Brother Elijah, this church you're building, and the town of Hope. As for me, boys, I've already made my choice.”

Without meeting the preacher's eyes again, she turned and walked back through the crowd toward the Hankses' little house. Eva joined her, and then Caitrin, Rosie, Sheena, and Lucy followed. Elijah's heart swelled as he watched the women of Hope stand united against the opera house.

Spotting the stump of a tree the cyclone had blown down, Elijah jumped up onto it. “Hear the Word of the Lord,” he called. “‘Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might.' If you love God, you'll keep his commandments, gentlemen! I tell you today, that opera house down the road stands as an enemy of the Lord. I've kept silent until now, but if I keep silent any longer, the stones will cry out.”

Allowing the Word of truth to pour out of him, Elijah watched the Topeka men laugh among themselves as they walked off down the road. But the others in the group gathered closer, and he could feel the strong rod of the Shepherd moving through him to draw the flock into the fold.

“A saloon,” he said, “is a place with a wicked purpose. I know, because I've spent a lot of time in saloons from Missouri to California and back again. A saloon has three aims. To get you drunk, to help you gamble away your money, and to make you lust after women. Not only does that opera house have a saloon, gentlemen, but they're bringing in women!”

“Lord, have mercy!” old Hubert cried out, his eyes shooting wide open in shock. “Did you hear that, Simeon?”

“That opera house is really a brothel,” Elijah told the crowd. “It'll lure the men traveling down our honest roads, and it'll try to lure you fellows, too. The Lord makes plain his commandments about fallen women. ‘Let not thine heart decline to her way,' he says, ‘go not astray in her paths. For she hath cast down many wounded: yea, many strong men have been slain by her. Her house is the way to hell, going down to the chambers of death.'”

“Amen, Brother Elijah!” Simeon cried.

“Preach the Word of God,” Jimmy O'Toole hollered, firing his rifle into the air. “Let's tear down that house of wickedness! Let's drive the sinners out of our midst!”

“‘Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord,'” Elijah countered, recognizing the mood of the restless crowd. These men had labored in the baking sun for three days to rebuild the town of Hope. With the opera house looming as a threat to their hard work, there was no telling what they might do to destroy it.

“The best thing you men can do to stop that place from taking root here in Hope,” he told them, “is to steer clear of it. Don't set one foot inside those doors. Don't sell those folks your crops. Don't let your women clean and cook for them. Keep yourselves pure and holy before the Lord, fellows, and he'll drive that place out of our—”

A cry from the Hanks house drew the instant focus of the men. Caitrin Cornwall raced out the front door, followed by Sheena O'Toole and Eva Hanks. “Brother Elijah!” Sheena cried. “Sure, you must come at once!”

“Where's Lily?” He leapt down from the stump and began to push his way through the crowd.

“She's inside,” Caitrin called. “'Tis not her; 'tis the baby! Your baby is gone, Brother Elijah! Sure, he's been taken clean away.”

Lily lay crumpled at the foot of the cradle, fighting the nausea that had swept over her.

“Lily, what in tarnation is going on?” Elijah dropped to his knees beside her. “Where's Sam?”

“I don't know!” She took his sleeves in her fists. “He was alone for only a few minutes—”

“It's my fault!” Eva wailed. “I left the baby to go watch the opera house men feudin' with the farmers over by the church. I wanted to make sure my Ben didn't get himself into a fix. When all us women came back to the house, we were so busy talkin', we didn't notice for a minute. And then Lily saw the cradle. Mercy, Lord, someone took that child!”

As Eva wept, the other women tried to console her. Lily lifted the blankets and pressed her hand on the soft warm spot where the child had lain. Abigail's little bed had been warm in the minutes after her death. Another child. Another loss. The image of her baby's face drifted into focus, blended with her memory of Samuel's precious smile, and dissolved into tears of disbelief.

BOOK: Prairie Storm
10.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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