The Preacher's Wife. Cheryl St.John

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СКАЧАТЬ home.” His voice shook with anger, and he steadied it by clearing his throat so he could go on. “I’ve had a lot of time to think back, and I never asked her if she wanted this. She just went along with the move because it was what I wanted. My dream led her to that river and my selfishness pushed her in. Because of my hasty judgment, she died.”

      Henry adjusted his weight with a grimace, then asked, “Did you love your wife, Samuel?”

      A hoarse declaration burned his throat. “Yes.”

      “You didn’t intentionally put her at risk. Sometimes circumstances are out of our control. You did the best you could. You’re answering the call of God on your life, are you not?”

      “I thought so. I truly did. But if I am, why did this happen?” Unable to sit, Sam got up, paced to a window and gazed, unseeing. “They dug a hole for her, out there on the prairie. I wrapped her in our wedding quilt. She loved that quilt. And we buried her there, where wagon wheels would roll over and hide the spot.”

      Henry listened silently.

      “We stood there after the others had gone back to their wagons, ready to move on. I was thinking that I hadn’t seen it coming. The day had been like any other on the trail. Then Elisabeth looked at me and asked me why God didn’t save her mother.” He turned to face the reverend. “I didn’t have an answer.”

      “We don’t have answers to everything,” the other man said.

      Sam raised a palm to ask, “But how can I be of use to anyone if I can’t help my own daughter? She’s thirteen and mature for her age. She needed an answer.”

      “God doesn’t want you to be this hard on yourself,” Henry assured him. “You’re exhausted and you’re grieving. I’m sure First Alliance would understand if you needed some time. You’re perfectly welcome to stay here nonetheless.”

      “No,” Sam told him. “I want to work. I need to. I want to plan Sunday sermons and make calls and teach. I need to do it.”

      If he didn’t follow through with his plans, Carrie’s death would be for nothing.

      Chapter Two

      The girls had removed their bonnets, giving Josie an opportunity to admire their neat braids. Elisabeth’s hair appeared thick and full; Abigail’s was so pale and fine that it shone, while Anna’s had darker undertones that complimented her eyes.

      “I can’t imagine the angels are as pretty as the three of you,” she said.

      “Father says angels are men,” Elisabeth informed her.

      “Really? All of them?”

      “With names like Michael and Gabriel? Yes, most likely.”

      “Well, that shoots a hole in all the Christmas pageants, now doesn’t it?” Josie replied thoughtfully.

      The girls studied her. “What do you mean?” Abigail asked.

      “The parts of the angels are always played by little girls,” she explained. “‘Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy’ and all.”

      Elisabeth said nothing. Abigail and Anna exchanged a look.

      “Why don’t you wash your hands at the pump there,” Josie suggested, to move past the uncomfortable moment. “You can help me roll and cut the biscuits.”

      Anna looked up at her through thick lashes.

      “And you may be the cutter. I have a tin can that makes perfect circles.”

      Anna glanced at Elisabeth, who gave her a barely perceptible nod, before taking the can from Josie and watching while she gathered the ingredients.

      The simple task was completed quickly, and the biscuits came from the oven uniform and golden-brown. “Let’s call your father, shall we? I’ll make a tray for Reverend Martin.”

      After she’d taken the reverend his food, the Harts gathered informally in the roomy kitchen.

      “Will you pray over the meal, sir?” she asked Samuel.

      He said a brief blessing for their food, thanking God for His provision.

      

      “Help Mrs. Randolph with the dishes,” Samuel said after everyone had eaten.

      “Please,” she said. “Call me Josie. And I can see to the dishes. Let me show you your rooms so you can get settled.”

      Anna drew a breath in excitement, and she and Abigail looked at each other.

      “There’s a room for you, Reverend, and one for the girls to share. When we heard you were coming, I set up another narrow bed. Two can sleep on the larger bed and one on the small one.”

      He glanced at her, and she noticed creases at the corners of his eyes that he’d earned squinting against the sun. “They’ve been sleeping cramped together on a feather mattress in the wagon. A real bed will be a pleasure we’ve all nearly forgotten.”

      She led them upstairs and showed them the two small rooms with sloping ceilings. Anna immediately spread the top half of her body over the larger bed, spreading her arms wide, her cheek pressed against the quilt. She closed her eyes and sighed.

      The exhausting effect of their grueling trip couldn’t have been plainer. Samuel exuded strength and purpose, but his stance betrayed weariness. The girls’ fatigue was evident, as well, and there was an uncertainty in their expressions that saddened her.

      She pushed open the wide windows so a breeze could filter through. “The reverend gets chilled easily, so I keep the parlor warm for him. With the shade trees, it cools off quickly up here, if you open the windows on both sides of the house.”

      “The rooms are nice,” Sam assured her. “Thank you.”

      “This is the parsonage—and the reverend is unmarried, so he doesn’t use these rooms. I simply cleaned and aired them out before your arrival. We weren’t sure when you’d be here.”

      “We’ll bring in a few of our belongings. Is there a laundry in town?”

      “There is, but I’d be glad to take care of it for you.”

      “You have no idea what you’d be getting yourself into,” he replied. “Our clothing hasn’t been properly washed since we left Philadelphia. I’d be more comfortable paying someone.”

      “The laundry is a small building behind the milliner’s shop. You can’t miss it.”

      She excused herself and took care of the dishes and the kitchen, then set out kettles, soap and towels. She made sure Reverend Martin had everything he needed for the evening.

      “Thank you, Josie,” he said as she prepared to leave.

      “I’ll come make breakfast for our guests in the morning.”

      “You spend more time here than you do at your own place,” he said СКАЧАТЬ