Cowgirl Under The Mistletoe. Louise Gouge M.

Чтение книги онлайн.

       Chapter Two

      Micah prepared his notes for the Wednesday night prayer meeting with special care. He must say just the right thing about the outlaws and the local robberies. The people of Esperanza were hardy, stouthearted folk. Otherwise they wouldn’t be living here in this harsh land. But no one ever benefited from their town leaders stirring up alarm. Of course most folks probably already knew about both threats.

      Most of the time, only a third of the congregation came to prayer meeting. Some folks lived too far out of town to make a midweek trip. Others only came on Sunday to put on a show. The more involved members of the church knew the importance of praying together, so they made every effort to attend on Wednesday evenings.

      After one more prayer for guidance for tonight, Micah made his way from the parsonage to the church, entered by the back door and set his notes on the lectern.

      At the same time, Nate and Rand Northam came through the front door, early as always, to set out hymnbooks. Micah walked up the aisle to shake their hands and then glanced over Rand’s shoulder. “Any other Northams coming tonight?”

      “No, they all stayed home,” Nate said. “Grace told us about Hardison and his crazy crony, so we moved our wives and children up to the big house so our folks could look out for them.”

      “If only I hadn’t killed Hardison’s cousin.” Rand’s drawn expression revealed both worry and sorrow. “He never would have come to Esperanza for revenge in the first place. He never would have noticed our small town.” He shook his head. “Never would have tried to rob the bank.”

      Rand had shot the outlaw’s cousin, a wanted murderer, for cheating in a card game in Del Norte over six years ago. Three years ago, Hardison had showed up and tried to charm the community, all the while threatening Rand in private. He’d even come forward in church one Sunday pretending a conversion experience. But his eyes lacked the look of a man whose repentance was genuine, so Micah hadn’t trusted him from the start. In their few subsequent chats, Micah further discerned the falseness of his supposed conversion.

      “You’ve been forgiven, Rand.” Micah set a hand on his younger friend’s shoulder. Here was a prime example of true repentance. “You need to forgive yourself once and for all. Besides, as you well know, men like those two don’t need an excuse to do evil.”

      Rand’s expression cleared. “Thanks. I have to keep reminding myself that the Lord’s truly and completely forgiven me. Times like this make it harder.”

      “Just look at it this way, brother.” Nate poked an elbow into Rand’s ribs. “Mother can’t ever get enough of her grandchildren, so this is her opportunity to spoil them.” He chuckled. “Poor Dad. He won’t have a moment of peace with the three of them climbing all over him.”

      “Soon to be four, come December.” Rand’s remorseful expression cleared, and paternal pride took its place. “I’m glad for an excuse to make Marybeth stay with Mother. She always tries to manage things on her own, but Randy’s getting to be a handful, and in her condition...” He stopped and offered a self-conscious grin, as if embarrassed for discussing such a private matter with them. “She needs Mother’s help.”

      At the reminder of Rand’s impending expansion of his family, Micah had an odd moment of longing, a yearning even, he’d never felt in all his twenty-nine years. How rewarding it must be to have a wife and children to care for. He’d love to have a sweet little daughter or an energetic little son to rear. Maybe when Miss Sutton arrived, he’d be well on his way to having that family. Only two months until he found out if it was even a possibility.

      Forcing such thoughts to the back of his mind, he recalled his discussion with Grace about all things working together for good. Here was another positive thing about Hardison’s escape from prison. Marybeth had to let go of her independent streak and depend upon her kindhearted in-laws for protection.

      Micah probably wouldn’t be able to convince Grace that anything good could come from the outlaws’ escape. He hadn’t seen her since Monday, but he did know she hadn’t liked the new bowler hat he’d bought to improve his wardrobe before Miss Sutton’s arrival. Somehow the thought bothered him. Maybe he shouldn’t have bought it, but Mr. Cappello didn’t carry wide-brimmed hats such as cowboys wore, and he needed the business. Micah couldn’t please everyone. Besides, he liked his new look, including the suits he’d ordered from the tailor. Maybe he’d make a few more changes before Miss Sutton arrived. If Grace didn’t like them, he’d have to tease her out of her disapproval.

      Other folks began to fill the small church, all moving forward to the front pews to keep the prayer meeting cozy. While the Northam brothers handed out hymnbooks, Micah greeted each person with pastoral affection. These were his children, even the old ones. If he never had a wife or offspring of his own, he would always thank the Lord for giving him this responsibility and joy.

      George and Mabel Eberly, Grace’s parents, arrived along with their youngest daughter, Georgia. Grace soon joined them in the second row. She sat sideways on the pew, probably so she could keep an eye on who came into the sanctuary. That protectiveness always impressed Micah. She made a good deputy. A good friend.

      Would she still be his friend if she found out his next book was about her? He’d better keep that a secret, just as he’d decided not to let anyone know about his writing. Folks might be offended if they knew he’d created some characters based on them. Worse still, they might no longer trust him as their pastor. Not that he’d ever think of using situations shared with him confidentially. No success was worth betraying a friend.

      Rand led the congregation in an opening hymn, and then Micah took his place behind the lectern. As he surveyed his flock, he noticed that every man wore a gun and every woman carried a reticule that drooped as though containing a heavy object. At the same time, every congregant’s expression bespoke peaceful determination. Micah chuckled to himself. He needn’t be concerned about these good folks. They’d look out for one another. In fact, after the prayer meeting, he’d go home tonight and clean his own guns. The men with whom he’d attended seminary in Massachusetts would be shocked, but out here in the American West, Micah wouldn’t be the only preacher who carried a sidearm.

      * * *

      After the final prayer, Grace’s parents, Georgia and the rest of the congregation filed out of the pews to the stirring tones of “Onward, Christian Soldiers,” a song well suited to the battle that threatened Esperanza. Grace stayed in her seat in the second row because she never tired of hearing Mrs. Foster play the church organ. The kindly old lady’s face always took on a sweet glow while she played, as though the words to the songs came straight СКАЧАТЬ