Calico Brides Page 19

  With those words, the women around Birdie shrank back. She reached as far as she could in both directions, until she touched each woman. “I’m no more or less a lady than ever I was. What has changed is that God has made me new. I’m a new creation. Nothing from the past can hold me back.”

  “That’s all good and fine for you, Birdie. But nothing’s gonna change for a gal like me.” Naomi shook her head, even though a hopeful light beamed from almost black eyes, her dusky coloring and dark features suggesting Indian blood.

  Love flooded Birdie’s heart, mixed with a desire for these women to accept the good news of Jesus as shown by the people of Calico. “God’s love is for anyone, anytime, anywhere. The Good Book says we were still Jesus’ enemies when He died for us. One of His best ladies was a prostitute once upon a time. He loves us, all of us.”

  Michal handed out Miss Kate’s breakfast. Before long, a knock at the door interrupted her, and Mrs. Fairfield came in. Birdie introduced her two sets of friends to one another.

  Shannon sank against the wall. It was almost time to go back.

  Another time Birdie would tell more of the old, old story. Right now these women needed an escape plan. “This is what we have in mind. Miss Fairfield and Miss Polson came up with a plan to help you find work if you decide you’re ready to leave the Betwixt ’n’ Between. I’ll let Miss Polson explain.”

  The women listened with interest until Gladys mentioned the interviews that Haydn wanted to conduct. “A man interviewing me? How do I know he’s not fixing to run and tell Owen all about our plans?” Orpah’s lips made a thin line.

  Birdie met Orpah’s glare. “If you don’t want to speak with Mr. Keller, you can talk with me. We won’t give out your names or anything else you want to keep personal.”

  Orpah frowned but didn’t say anything further. Naomi voiced her objections. “I don’t have any clothes I can wear in normal society. I can’t wear something like this.” She gestured to the dress she had arrived at the saloon in, only a couple of months after Birdie. The hem rose higher on her ankle than was considered proper, and the cloth strained across her chest. The clothes the others wore were in even worse condition.

  Birdie hastened to reassure her. “I’m working on dresses for you so you have something decent to wear about town.” The single dress in her bag seemed so small in comparison to the need. “I only have one ready now, but I hope to have more ready soon.” As soon as she could buy buttons, bric-a-brac, all those finishing details.

  “You always wuz right handy with a needle and thread,” Susanna said.

  “So can we all leave right now?” Naomi asked. “Or do we have to leave one at a time? Owen might take it out on whoever’s left behind.” Her voice wobbled, but her gaze remained focused on Birdie.

  Fear and joy fought within Birdie’s racing heart. This was what she wanted—wasn’t it?—but whatever would they do with four women all at once? Five, if they counted Michal.

  Be not afraid. Birdie took in God’s promise along with Mrs. Fairfield’s nod. “Anyone who is ready to leave right now can stay here at the church until we find places for you all to go.” Miss Kate had said to bring anybody along to the boardinghouse who wanted to come, but she didn’t know if even that indomitable lady could handle four strangers all at once. “You can stay here in privacy, and there’s plenty of good food to eat.”

  Orpah stopped chewing on her sausage roll and nodded in appreciation.

  “It will be one of us who brings your food and helps you get away to a safe place.” Annie handed the bag of rolls around again.

  “We’ll get some menfolk to keep watch. The sheriff ’s a good man, and so is my fiancé, Haydn Keller.” A smile of unbridled joy shone in Gladys’s eyes. “And Annie’s lieutenant and Pastor Fairfield. And Ned Finnegan.”

  “I’ll introduce them to you so you won’t get scared when they come around.” Mrs. Fairfield crossed the room in a few steps and stood in front of Susanna and took her hand. “I’m the pastor’s wife, Hannah Fairfield. I’m pleased to meet you, Susanna.” Mrs. Fairfield didn’t seem to notice the torn fingernails or the reek of whiskey coming from Susanna’s clothes. She went down the line, greeting each woman by name. “The parsonage is right next door, straight out the side door. If something happens that worries you, day or night, come right over and tell us about it.” She offered a cloak and bonnet she had draped across her arm to Naomi. “This is yours if you’d feel better about wearing it when it’s time for you to come. I know it’s hot in here, but you should be out of here in a day or two.”

  “What if Owen comes looking for us? He’s already breathing fire after losing Birdie and his songbird.” Naomi spoke as if Owen’s violence was a fact of life. For her, it was.

  “He’ll have to get past a whole host of angels—human and heavenly—to get to you. And the church is a sanctuary even Owen won’t violate.” As she pressed each of their hands, Birdie saw courage rising in each woman’s heart. “But we’d best leave for now, before someone has reason to question what all of us are doing at the church at this hour. Gladys, Michal, why don’t you head out first?”

  Birdie gathered her hair into a knot at the back of her neck and tied her sunbonnet on before draping her shawl across her shoulders. “I have one more dress that is almost finished. I’ll bring it over as soon as I get the buttons.” How she wished she could finish the other dresses more quickly.

  She opened the door and slipped out after Gladys and Michal. A familiar figure waited at the front door. Ahead of her, Michal drew back, and Birdie touched her arm. “Don’t worry. That’s Mr. Finnegan.”

  At the sound of female voices, Ned squinted into the early-morning sun pouring in the east-facing windows. Birdie. He hustled down the center aisle and met her halfway. “I thought I’d better come in case Owen figured out what was happening and tried to bother you.”

  Dependable. Kind. Brave. Any number of words could describe Ned Finnegan, even if the gun in his arm looked as out of place as a storekeeper’s apron on a soldier. “Thank you, Ned.”

  The door opened, and Haydn scurried in. “Is everything all right?”

  At Haydn’s appearance, Michal drew back. Birdie said, “This is Mr. Keller, Gladys’s intended. He’s a good man.”

  Ned nodded at Birdie. “I’ll walk you and Miss Clanahan home while Haydn escorts Miss Polson and Miss Bliss.”

  “Let’s get moving, then, before it gets any later.” But before Birdie could continue down the aisle, the front door opened and the preacher stood on the threshold. “He’s on his way with his men.”

  Chapter 10

  Pastor Fairfield didn’t have to explain who he meant.

  “I’ll go get the sheriff.” Haydn raced to the side door.

  “Get back.” Ned urged the women to safety.

  Not quite steady on his feet, Owen pushed past the pastor, his men close behind. The gun he held was all the more dangerous in the hands of a drunken man.

  “They’re here. You can’t tell me they’re not. There’s three of them right there, although what they’re doing in church is a pretty story. Maybe your man of the cloth here isn’t all you expect him to be.”

  “Why, you.” Birdie spoke from behind Ned. She hadn’t retreated to the room after all.

  “Get down.” Ned fought to keep fear out of his tone.

  “I’ll get ’er back sooner or later, but she ain’t my concern this morning. Imagine my surprise when I headed downstairs for a pick-me-up, to find my faithful Susanna missing. Checked the cribs upstairs, and there’s four gone, new this morning gone.” Owen hurtled himself forward, almost falling down, righting himself when he grasped the back pew. “Bring ’em out nice and peaceable, and we won’t have any argument between us.”

  “Over my dead body.” Ned’s voice rang out loud and clear. He might be a shopkeeper, but he had learned how to shoot on the farm as a boy.

  “Nigel Owen!” Pastor Fairfield used a deep voice that could have scared the devil himself
out of hell. “I have told you before. You have no business here. This is God’s house.”

  Ned darted a glance at the pastor. Dressed in a pair of pants held up by suspenders, and with nothing more than a Bible in his hands, he still radiated unmistakable authority, the general of this spiritual fortress.

  “Well, Pastor, so you keep saying. But you’re interfering with a legitimate business. Those women signed contracts to work at the Betwixt ’n’ Between. They have to come back.”

  Behind him, Ned heard Birdie grunt. She had told him about the marks the girls made on those contracts when they were too drunk to know what they were doing.

  The side door opened and Sheriff Carter strode in. “Not unless I say so.” He also trained his rifle on Owen. “In fact, I hear tell the town council is ready to put the vote to make Calico dry on the next ballot. If you know what’s best for you, you’ll skedaddle out of town before you lose your shirt altogether.”

  Owen stumbled forward a step, discharging his weapon as he flopped about. It hit a rafter high above him.

  Ned’s finger pressed on the trigger, and the bullet hit Owen right where he aimed it—at his right shoulder, to wing him, not to kill. Owen slumped on the floor and howled. “I wasn’t shooting at you!” He screamed curses.

  Sheriff Carter ran down the side aisle, keeping his rifle ready to shoot if necessary. He kicked Owen’s gun away and handcuffed his hands together. “Tell it to the judge—after we all tell him how you started a gunfight in this house of worship. That’ll be right after we get a doctor to fix you up.” Dragging Owen to his feet, he paused by the door. “The rest of you better leave before I find a reason to drag you along with your boss.”

  “They all follow his lead.” Birdie came up beside Ned as the men filed out the front door. “None of them has enough courage to come after us here without him. We’re free.” She pulled the sunbonnet from her head. “We’re finally free. How perfect, to celebrate our personal freedom on the Fourth of July.”

  As the sheriff escorted Owen out of the church, Haydn headed for the back room and Ned crossed the front to the pastor. “I’m sorry for the gunfire, pastor.”

  “Don’t worry. You were protecting what is most important to you except for the Lord Himself.” He smiled at Birdie. “I’ll join the ladies in the room.”

  Ned pulled Birdie close to him, closer than he ever had before, and she settled comfortably against his chest. He breathed in the floral scent of her brilliant hair. He could face a hundred lions for this woman.

  Michal coughed, reminding him that although Ned had so much to tell Birdie, now was neither the time nor the place. He relaxed his hold on Birdie, and she took one hesitant step backward. “I need to get back to Miss Kate’s. To let her know about her company coming.” Even as she spoke, her eyes studied his features one by one, as if memorizing them.

  “You’ll see me later today. I promise.” A tenderness Birdie couldn’t believe possible shone from Ned’s eyes as he smiled down at her.

  “Of course. When I bring you the eggs.” Dropping her eyes, she stepped past Ned on her way to the door.

  “And when I announce the winner of the button jar contest.”

  Birdie’s laughter rang as she and Michal headed for the door. “I plan on being there.”

  “If you don’t come, I’ll come down and get you myself.” She laughed again. “But now I’ll walk you home.”

  Later that morning, Michal had no interest in the button drawing. “It’s too soon for me, Birdie. But you go, with your Mr. Finnegan. Enjoy yourself.”

  Birdie walked down Main Street, striding confidently past the Betwixt ’n’ Between. A good-sized crowd had gathered in front of Ned’s store. He should be pleased.

  Ned noticed her approach and motioned her forward. For some reason, he began to clap. Soon everyone joined in.

  Birdie stopped in midstep. They couldn’t be clapping for her—could they? Ned motioned again for her to join him in front of the store. “Now we can get started.”

  Light laughter rippled across the crowd.

  “First I’ll announce the winner of the counting contest. The person who will be leaving here with all the lemon drops she can eat, as well as a length of my prettiest calico, is the sheriff ’s wife, Enid Carter.”

  A young boy ran ahead and reached Ned first. “I’ll take the lemon drops, please.”

  “That is up to your mother.” Ned tossed a single lemon drop to the child, who caught it in midair.

  “Thank you, Mr. Finnegan. For everything.” Mrs. Carter walked back to her husband amid generous applause.

  “And now…for the most important part of the day.” Ned reached behind him and lifted the nearly full jar of buttons over his head. “Who gets to keep all these buttons that I’ve collected?”

  Voices called from all over the crowd. “Miss Landry.” “Miss Birdie.” A few small children began chanting “Miss Landry” until everyone joined in.

  Birdie looked at Ned, not understanding what was happening.

  He handed her the jar of buttons. “Here is a gift from the people of Calico, to you. All of the buttons you’ll need for a lot of dresses, as well as a sizable credit to your account for any other supplies you need, from concerned citizens.”

  The din of applause and hurrahs gave Ned and Birdie a cocoon of privacy. She found a tag attached to a red-and-white gingham bow around the top of the jar. She unfolded it and read the single sentence twice before looking at Ned.

  “You don’t think I’d let a few buttons come between me and the woman I love, do you?” Ned’s grin was as spectacular as fireworks on the Fourth of July. “So. Will you marry me?”

  All the defenses Birdie had built against a man’s love crumbled. “Yes.” Her answer was both a capitulation and an exultation.

  Ned claimed Birdie’s lips.

  The crowd cheered even louder, their approval touching Birdie’s heart like the ping of a button hitting the bottom of the jar.

  Pride goeth before destruction,

  and an haughty spirit before a fall.

  PROVERBS 16:18

  Chapter 1

  Ruth Fairfield rubbed her aching back. Cutting squares of sod used muscles she didn’t need in the schoolroom. The people of Calico, Kansas, had gathered to build a home for the orphaned Pratt children. Now that their mother’s brother had come to town, the three children and their uncle could spend the winter snug in their new soddy.

  “What is such a pretty lady doing over in this corner, trying to break up the hard ground all by herself?”

  Ruth held back a chuckle as she straightened. No one had ever mistaken her for a beauty. Pleasant, yes, and kind. But pretty? Even her mother reminded her that internal beauty mattered more than what could be seen on the outside.

  She straightened up, up, up, taking in boot-clad feet and denim-covered legs, until she met brown eyes the same color as the dirt beneath her feet, sparkling like a fresh spring rain. A ten-gallon hat sat atop hair streaked with summer’s gold, a little long. Everything about him screamed cowboy. Ruth herself was tall, taller than some men, but not this giant. Charlotte Pratt had spoken of her brother to Ruth, but she hadn’t mentioned his jaw-dropping good looks. “Mr. Blanton?”

  “As I live and breathe, but you can call me Beau.” He swept his hat from his head. “And you are Ruth Fairfield.”

  “Please, call me Ruth. I feel like I already know you from what Charlotte told me.”

  “Uncle Beau!” Dru Pratt, a happy, gangly twelve-year-old who had taken the loss of her parents hard, threw herself at the cowboy. “This is my teacher, Miss Fairfield.”

  “We’ve already met.” Beau’s smile revealed even white teeth. “So how is my niece doing in class?”

  Ruth relaxed a bit. Her students were her favorite topic of conversation. “She’s doing very well, as are her brothers. I might even go so far as to say that Allan is my star pupil. I believe he would do well at the university.”

  “Don’t know about th
at. He’ll have work a lot closer to home.” The cowboy’s earlier cheer turned into a rumble of thunder.

  When would Ruth learn to keep her mouth shut? Not everyone welcomed the idea of further education, nor could everyone afford it. Her gaze flicked to the spot where Allan Pratt worked side by side with Haydn Keller. To look at them, no one would guess at Haydn’s college education. She peeled off the garden gloves she had worn to protect her hands. Teaching school didn’t leave her with much time to tend to gardening.

  Dru dashed away in pursuit of Grace Polson, the younger sister of Ruth’s friend Gladys. The cowboy hoisted the squares of sod Ruth had cut to his shoulder as easily as he would a cornstalk. His eyes surveyed the horizon, as if envisioning the crops that would grow there someday. “Percy managed to choose a good spot for his homestead.”

  “Charlotte loved it here.” She had loved Percy, too, in spite of his penchant for mishaps. “When she described their acreage, I could almost see waving wheat and rose trellises, fish caught in a favorite spot by the creek. We were all saddened when they died in that terrible fire.” Ruth finished digging around the last square and tipped it so she could slip her hands underneath. A snake slithered onto her arm, and she flicked it off.

  The cowboy laughed. “Let me get that.” He staggered a bit under the weight of the third square. He nodded at the snake. “You and Charlotte sound like two peas in a pod. Most women I know would scream at the sight of that sand twister.”

  “We grow them tough out here.” Ruth chuckled. “Although I almost screamed the first time one of my students gifted me with a garden snake. He was disappointed when I just took it outside and continued with class.”

  Beau scratched his forehead with the brim of his hat, holding back a grin at the picture of the proper Ruth carrying a snake by its tail and calmly dropping it on the ground. The children newly left to his care loved their young teacher. Allan raved about her with all the ardor of a schoolboy crush, she had found a way to make Dru enjoy learning her multiplication tables, and even Guy admitted she was “nice enough”—high praise from a fourteen-year-old.