Brides of Arizona, page 30
Mrs. Dooley smiled a welcome as she opened the front door. A toddler clung to her skirts, eyes peeping out at Quinn as if he might be some monster from the dark.
“Hello, Deputy Kirby. What can I do fer you today?” Mrs. Dooley’s smile displayed a tooth chipped off at an angle, the rest yellowed and stained.
“Mrs. Dooley, did I hear that the evangelist is staying with you this week?”
She beamed as if this fact made her the most important person in town. “Why, yes, he is.”
“Do you think I could speak with him?” Quinn wanted to turn and run. “If he’s too busy, I’ll talk to him later.”
“He’s out back. That man sure is a worker. He’s repaired my porch and fixed the fence around my chicken pen. We won’t have any coyotes stealing chickens for awhile.” She shuffled aside, gesturing for Quinn to come inside.
“That’s okay, Mrs. Dooley. It sounds like he’s a busy man. I’ll come by another time.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. That man needs a break. I just made him sit down for a drink. You join him, and he’ll rest a little longer. He don’t have enough meat on his bones to be working so hard.” The toddler peeked out again with his finger in his nose.
Taking his hat off, Quinn stepped in the house. Mrs. Dooley swept the child up into her arms, pulling his finger out of his nose. Quinn followed her to the door leading outside. There in the shade sat the preacher, his thin frame resting against the wall of the house, his eyes closed as if he were asleep.
Before Quinn could stop her, Mrs. Dooley called out, “Reverend, you’ve got company.”
The man smiled and quirked open one eye. His eyebrow rose as if asking who would be visiting him in a town where he knew almost no one. With one fluid motion, he rose from the chair belying the ungainliness his tall, lanky body displayed.
He held out his hand to Quinn. “Name’s Reilly, Son, Matthew Reilly.”
Quinn took hold of his hand, surprised at the strength. “Deputy Quinn Kirby, Sir. I, uh, just stopped by to welcome you to town. I haven’t had the chance to do that yet. I didn’t mean to disturb your rest.”
Matthew Reilly laughed as if he’d never heard anything so funny. “My rest will be when I get to heaven and live with my Lord, Son. Right now, I take a moment to sit down and pray once in awhile. Otherwise, work is the best medicine. Idle hands are a tool of the devil, you know.”
Quinn nodded as if he knew exactly what the man meant. He sidled toward the corner of the house. Coming here had been a mistake. He had to leave before the conversation went further.
“Here you go, Deputy.” Mrs. Dooley came out with a cup of coffee and a pot to refill the preacher’s cup. “Now, you two just sit and visit awhile. I’ve got to run out and do some errands.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.” Preacher Reilly flashed her a wide smile. As the door closed behind her, he motioned to a chair beside the one he’d been resting in and sat down. Not seeing any way out, Quinn perched on the edge of the chair, his coffee warming his hands.
“I believe you were at the meeting last Sunday. Am I right?” Reilly had dark green eyes that seemed to see right into Quinn’s soul.
“Yes, Sir, I was there.” Quinn took a long swig of coffee and grimaced as he burnt his tongue.
“You weren’t real happy with what I said.”
Trying to hide his surprise, Quinn searched for the words to say. “I, uh, it’s been a long time since I’ve been in church.”
Reilly nodded. “I’ve had a lot of experience watching the faces of people I preach to. Some people don’t listen; some thrive on the words I speak, and others get angry like you did. I admire a man who’s not afraid to face what makes him mad. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to hear what I said that you objected to.”
His mind scrabbling, Quinn tried to think of a way to get out of this. Why had he come here? Who was he to try to tell this man he was wrong? Then he remembered his sister, what she’d gone through, and he could feel the anger rising up all over again. The anger and bitterness of years of hating God for what happened to his innocent sister poured out. Matthew Reilly sat silent as Quinn told the whole story, including his accusations that God didn’t care what happened to the people who loved Him.
The shadows were growing long when Quinn finished talking. He couldn’t look at the preacher. His eyes would be full of condemnation at Quinn’s charges against God. Even knowing this, Quinn couldn’t bring himself to rise and slink away like the whipped dog he felt he resembled.
“Tell me, Son, how would your sister have felt if your father refused to let her go anywhere because something bad might happen to her? In fact, what if your father made you stay at home and never let you decide anything you wanted to do whether right or wrong?”
“My father wouldn’t have done that.” Quinn looked at Reilly in surprise. “He loved us too much to treat us in that manner.”
A faint smile lit the preacher’s eyes. “That’s a good father, then, wouldn’t you say?”
Quinn nodded. “He was always a good father. He guided us, but he also let us make some mistakes.”
Reilly’s dark green eyes gazed at the sky as a few clouds scudded past. “You see, Son, that’s sort of the way God did things, too.”
Quinn blinked in surprise.
“When God made the garden for Adam and Eve, He made it a perfect place. Every day He came down and talked with Adam and Eve. He wanted them to do right always, but He wanted the choice to be theirs. You know what happened?”
A lump filled Quinn’s throat. He nodded.
“They committed the first sin.” Reilly rubbed his chin. “Seems to me we’ve been doing that ever since. You see, God didn’t want us to be like the animals. The Bible says He wants us to fellowship with Him. Do you know why He allows us to make our mistakes?”
Tightness wrapped around Quinn. He felt like he couldn’t get a breath.
“Because He loves us so much.” Reilly’s eyes were serious. “Just like your daddy let you and your sister make choices that weren’t always right, God lets each one of us make our own decisions. You see, some people make pretty poor choices and everyone suffers for that.”
“But why didn’t God step in and protect my sister?” The tightness almost made speaking impossible for Quinn.
“How do you know He didn’t?”
“She got hit with a rock and hurt pretty bad.”
“Maybe that rock should have hit her hard enough to kill her.” The preacher sat forward and clasped his hands over his knees as if in prayer. “You see, we can’t know the mind of God. Who’s to say how much He protected Elizabeth?”
Stumbling up from his chair, Quinn mumbled something. He set his coffee cup on the porch railing, then almost ran around the house to leave. He couldn’t stay longer. This couldn’t be right. Had he been wrong all these years? Had he misunderstood what God had done? Half running down the street, all he could think of was his need to escape the thoughts careening through his head.
Chapter 18
Andrew gurgled and stretched a tiny hand up to Kathleen’s face. He grabbed her lip and tugged.
“Ouch.” Kathleen loosened his fingers one by one as Andrew gave her a toothless smile. “You are so proud of yourself.” She tried to act angry at the fat baby. “I’ll have to get you now.” She lifted him and nibbled his neck, causing him to give off infectious chuckles that soon had them both laughing.
“Are you spoiling that boy again?”
Kathleen jumped. Andrew started, his face puckering as if he were about to cry. “Oh, don’t you cry, Sweetie. Your mommy just scared me, that’s all.” She frowned at Glorianna. “Next time don’t sneak up on us. I could have dropped him.”
Putting Angelina on the rug in the middle of the room, Glorianna grinned. “A team of horses in a full gallop could have sneaked up on you two; you were laughing so loud.” She reached for Andrew, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and put him down with his sister. Glorianna sank onto the settee beside Kathleen and collapsed with a sigh. “I was prepared for one baby to make me tired, but two are double the work. Some days, I don’t know what I’d do without you and Alicia helping out.”
Watching the two infants, Kathleen couldn’t help but smile as Andrew began to look around at the various objects within his sight. Angelina did her best to follow the voices talking. “You are a very good mother, Glory. These babies are such blessings.”
“You need some of your own.” Glorianna put a hand on Kathleen’s arm. Her eyes filled with compassion.
Hurt and anger swept through Kathleen. She stiffened at her cousin’s touch. “I can’t marry, Glorianna, and you know that.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Fire sparked in Glory’s eyes.
“Can’t.” Kathleen tried to hold onto her resolve in the face of Glory’s determination. She’d never been able to win an argument with Glory.
“I am getting tired of listening to you feel sorry for yourself because of a little mark on your cheek.” Angelina and Andrew both looked their direction as their mother’s tone became firm. “You always lectured me about not being afraid to step out and be what God wants me to be. If that’s true, then why are you still hiding behind that veil? Why can’t you believe God made you as you are, and to Him and to those who know you, you’re beautiful?”
Angelina whined, a sure sign she was getting ready to cry. Glorianna ignored her and took Kathleen’s hands. “You’re going to ruin God’s plans for you by not allowing Him to work.” Glory’s eyes filled with tears. “Take off that mask, Kathleen. Quit shutting yourself away from everyone. Allow people the chance to love you as much as I do. Let God know you trust Him to protect you, no matter what.”
The words felt like physical blows that battered Kathleen from one side, then the other. She tried to fight down a surge of anger. “You have no idea what my life has been like. How can you expect me to live like that?”
“Do you think you’re the only one ever to be made fun of? Imagine how I felt, moving around so much with Daddy in the cavalry. I was always the new girl.” Glory’s eyes narrowed for a moment. “I can’t tell you how many people have asked about you since you arrived. They care, Kathleen. They aren’t children. Why can’t you give them a chance?” Glory’s fingers dug into Kathleen’s arm.
Jumping to her feet and rushing for the door, Kathleen almost fell over Angelina. The baby began to wail. Glorianna reached for her daughter as Kathleen backed away, groping for her hat and veil.
“I have to go.” Kathleen choked out the words as she turned toward the door.
“Wait.” Glory’s voice halted her in midstep. “Kathleen, you were so brave to come all the way out here like you did. All your life, your mother kept you shut away from the world. Your only real memories are those of cruel taunts you suffered as a child. Trust God. He’s done a good work in you, and He’s longing to do more.”
After stumbling off the porch, Kathleen made her way down the path to the street. Tears blinded her even worse than the blackness of the veil over her eyes. What would happen if she were to rip this gauze off? She shuddered. Horror crept up her spine, sending chills racing down her arms. Glory didn’t understand. She’d never been made fun of to the extent Kathleen had. No one could understand that unless they’d been through the same.
A picture of the Bible description of Jesus at the mercy of the soldiers who arrested Him flashed through her mind. She gasped. Last night she’d read that very story in her Bible time. Jesus had done nothing wrong. He was perfect, yet they spit on Him, mocked Him, and called Him names. What they did to Jesus was far worse than anything anyone had ever done to her. What had He done to them? He’d asked forgiveness for the very ones who abused Him.
Going around to the back of Mrs. Monroy’s house, Kathleen took out the key to her sewing room. Her hand shaking, she missed the lock twice before the key slipped home and turned. The door swung open. Kathleen fell through, her hand covering her mouth to hold in the sobs. Oh, God, have I been disobedient? Have I been hiding and not trusting You to protect me? Lord, I know how You suffered, but I feel so alone and unable to face something like that. Help me.
Kathleen ran to her room, fell to her knees, and rested her forehead against the bed. For a long time she stayed there, resting in the touch of her Savior’s hand as He comforted her. When she stood, she removed the veil from her hat. Walking to where she kept her scraps of cloth, she threw the bit of fabric into the discard pile.
“Jesus, thank You for helping me to forgive. Now, help me to have the courage to walk out of here like this.” Kathleen closed her eyes. “This is the way You made me, Lord. Help me to rejoice and be glad.” Lightness filled her. She felt as if she could float on the clouds. Laughter bubbled up, escaping into the room. She hadn’t realized how heavy her burden had been until she gave her fears to the Lord. Tears of joy streamed down her cheeks.
“Kathleen, are you in there?” A knock sounded from her bedroom door. Mrs. Monroy called out to her. Wiping the wetness from her cheeks, Kathleen hurried to open the door. Mrs. Monroy started to speak, then stopped with her mouth open. She stared at Kathleen.
“Why, young lady, you are a beauty. Why have you been hiding under that veil?” She took hold of Kathleen’s chin and turned her face. As the birthmark came into view, her expression softened. “Look at that.” Her hand covered the star on Kathleen’s cheek. “When I was a girl, our neighbor had something like this. My mother used to call it an angel’s kiss. That’s no reason to hide, Honey. I hope you know that.”
Her throat ached. Kathleen managed to nod. “I understand now.”
Mrs. Monroy straightened. “I want you to speak with Miss Barstow. Something is wrong with that woman.”
“What’s happened?” Kathleen started to reach for her hat and veil before she remembered. She took Mrs. Monroy’s arm and led her out the door.
“She’s become like a different person. I came to her room after lunch to find her up and getting dressed. She says she’s got work to do. I ask you, what kind of work can a woman do when she has a gunshot wound in her shoulder? When I told her to get back in bed, she gave me such a cold look I near froze to death.”
“That doesn’t sound like Edith.” Puzzled, Kathleen hurried to the injured woman’s room, Mrs. Monroy huffing along behind her. Giving a light knock, she opened the door and peeked in. “Edith, may I come in?”
“I can’t stop you.” The cold voice sounded so different from the near invalid Kathleen had stayed with for days. Then she’d been quiet, acquiescent, so withdrawn Kathleen had wondered if she would ever recover. Now, she sounded almost brassy, defiant—a different person than the one who’d been in this room previously.
Miss Barstow stood before a small mirror, trying to pin up her hair with one hand. The lush, brown waves were not cooperating. Several pieces of hair straggled down around her face. As if exasperated, Edith started to lift her injured arm to do the job two-handed. A grimace of pain crossed her face. She dropped the brush, which fell to the floor with a sharp crack.
“I’ll leave you to see what you can do,” Mrs. Monroy whispered behind Kathleen. Her heavy tread receded down the hall.
“Let me help you with your hair.” Kathleen stepped in and shut the door. “I don’t know how I could do mine with one hand.”
Edith yanked out the pins she’d already used, sending her hair cascading to her waist. Glancing around, she caught sight of Kathleen and turned, her eyes wide. Kathleen’s hand itched to cover her cheek. She smiled at Edith.
“I hope your brush isn’t hurt.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.” Edith continued to stare. Kathleen picked up the brush and, as she stood, Edith stretched out her hand to touch Kathleen’s face. “Is this why you always wore the veil?”
Kathleen nodded.
Placing a hand over her jagged scar, Edith seemed to lose her anger. “I’m sorry I spoke harshly with you. You’ve been so kind to me. Thank you.”
“Where are you going?” Kathleen glanced around the room. “I see you have your bags packed.”
Edith turned. Her brown hair looked pale over the black of her dress. “I need to get something from town, then I’ll be leaving.”
“I thought you planned to live here.”
“That’s before my sister died.” Edith’s shoulders sagged as if a great weight sat on them. “I want to return home. There’s some unfinished business I have to attend to.”
“Can I help you with anything?” Kathleen longed to put her arms around Edith. She seemed so alone in the world.
“If you’d help me with my hair, I would appreciate it.” Edith sat in a chair so Kathleen could do the chore. Tension seemed to radiate from her as Kathleen brushed her hair, then pinned it up. The waves were so becoming. Edith turned and smiled her thanks. Picking up her hat and veil, she paused at the door. Her light eyes hardened, all compassion gone.
“I know you care for that deputy. You might want to go visit him and keep him company.”
Before Kathleen could respond, Edith pinned the hat in place and disappeared out the door. What had she meant about Quinn? Had he been here today looking for her? The thought of seeing him set her blood racing, but having the courage to walk down the streets in the open proved daunting. Instead, she returned to her rooms and organized her sewing, rearranging items that didn’t need it.
Sinking onto a chair, she buried her head in her hands. “I’m so sorry, Lord. Just this afternoon I promised to have courage and trust in Your protection. Mrs. Monroy and Edith were both so kind. There’s nothing for me to be afraid of, but I’m scared. Will You take my hand and walk with me to see Quinn?”
Taking a deep breath, Kathleen stood, walked out the door, and locked it behind her. For some reason, Edith’s comment about Quinn bothered her, but she couldn’t decide why. Her steps quickened, an urgency building inside. Beside her, she felt a comforting presence as if the Lord walked there, lending her His courage.
Rubbing a hand over his unshaven jaw, Quinn winced at the raspy sound. His vest hung open, his shirt wrinkled. Even his badge appeared tarnished and off center. He felt as if he were falling apart and didn’t know which way to turn. All night long, he’d wrestled with the questions raised by the preacher, but the answer he sought seemed as distant as ever. Walking the streets last evening to keep tabs on the action in town, he’d been surly to at least a dozen people. He would have to look them up and apologize, but right now the retraction would be worse than the offense.
