Buggies and buckboards. Carriages and cowboys. Would they never stop arriving? Ellie stood on the veranda, tingling with excitement. Half the countryside must have come to honor her on her birthday. The sound of jingling spurs whipped her around. She stared at Tim. “What are you doing in those clothes?”
Tim smirked. “You like, mi hermana?” He smoothed down the short, black jacket lavishly embroidered in silver and ran his hands down the tight, black pants bound at the waist by a scarlet sash. “Soy un gran caballero.”
Ellie fixed her fascinated gaze on the widest Mexican sombrero she’d ever seen. “There’s enough silver braid and conchas on that hat to give you a headache. What are you going to do? Fight a cow or do the Mexican hat dance?”
Tim put on a wise look and stroked his fake mustache. Ellie suspected one of the horses in the corral had a bald spot. “I might.” He glanced over his sister’s shoulder and into the yard. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Hey, take a gander at Red Fallon over there with our new minister. Red looks prouder than a mama cow with a new calf.”
Ellie surveyed the tall cowboy whose red hair showed streaks of silver. “He does, but Joshua Stanhope isn’t our minister yet.”
“He will be if she has anything to say about it,” Tim drawled. He nodded toward a pink-clad girl and her father approaching Red and the minister. She wore an unmistakable where-have-you-been-all-my-life expression. “Amy Talbot has her daddy wrapped around her little finger, and Luther’s chairman of the church board. C’mon. We’ll go rescue Josh.”
“We? I don’t think so.” Ellie put her fan up to smother a giggle and watched Josh free his arm from the white hand Amy had laid on it. “Besides, he looks perfectly capable of taking care of himself.”
“He’s probably used to women on his trail,” Tim agreed. “But Amy’s after anyone wearing pants. She even flirts with me.”
“You should feel honored,” Ellie teased. Satisfaction at being able to get even with her brother erupted into another giggle. “After all, she’s an older woman, and—”
Tim snorted. “Yeah. Just like you. You’re pretty near an old maid, you know!” He settled the gigantic sombrero more fully and marched down the veranda steps, spurs clanking. A few long strides took him to the foursome they’d been discussing. Tim said something to Josh and glanced in Ellie’s direction. The minister promptly left the others and headed toward the veranda.
Ellie’s breath caught when she observed Amy’s pout and the scowl on Luther Talbot’s face. If Joshua Stanhope wanted to become minister of Christ the Way Church in Madera, walking away from the Talbots was not a good way to secure the position. Josh reached the bottom step. The desire to warn and protect him caused Ellie to say in a low voice, “The Talbots don’t look happy about your leaving them.”
Mischief shone in Josh’s gray eyes, but all he said was, “They don’t, do they?” Then he added, “Your brother suggested I go over the order of service with you for tomorrow. No one should object to that, should they?”
The feeling of being in cahoots with him against a common enemy made laughter bubble up past Ellie’s ruffles. “They shouldn’t.” The words it doesn’t mean they won’t hung unspoken in the air.
“I know I’m a stranger, but would you consider allowing me to escort you for at least part of the fiesta?” Josh looked back at the Talbots. “Perhaps you can alert me to any…uh…pitfalls that lie ahead, should I be accepted as your minister.”
Ellie’s spirits rose, lighter than the balloons decorating the yard. Brighter than the dozens of luminaries to be lit at dusk. Not trusting herself to speak, she smiled and nodded. She felt a blush begin at the modest neckline of her gown. As it worked its way up, Ellie took refuge behind her fan. She held it so only her eyes showed, praying they wouldn’t give away the unexpected feelings churning inside her.
Josh didn’t seem to notice her confusion. “Shall we go over the service so we can join the fiesta?”
Ellie sternly bade her unruly heart to be still. She might never see Josh again after tomorrow. So why should she feel he might be the long-awaited stranger she’d yearned for each time she saw Matt and Sarah’s happiness? Or the way Seth and Dori shared understanding glances? Or the teasing between Curly and Katie?
The notion left her breathless. But as the fiesta continued, her sense of wonder increased: bittersweet and haunting, like a persistent cloud dimming the sunshine of Ellie’s day. Amy Talbot’s obvious but futile attempts to pry Josh away from Ellie’s side didn’t help. Or the bevy of girls and young women who flocked around them, waiting to be introduced and expressing delight at Josh’s coming.
When Josh turned away to greet a newcomer, Tim sidled up to his sister. “I gotta hand it to you, Ellie.” Admiration filled his voice. “Our new minister’s a goner. You’ve got him roped, tied, and liking it.”
“What?” Ellie croaked, feeling the telltale red creeping into her face again. “Josh is just being polite.”
“Horse feathers!” was Tim’s inelegant reply. “Just watch your step. Amy’s wearing her hunting expression and loaded for bear. And she isn’t the only one.”
Ellie couldn’t help laughing, but Tim’s remark made her recall Sarah’s prediction: “Every single girl, young woman, and eligible widow in Madera will be doing somersaults up and down Main Street to attract Joshua Stanhope….You have to admit, Ellie, you have a running start.” Ellie bit her lip. She must not let the young minister’s marked attentions go to her head.
Event followed event. Josh remained at Ellie’s side, except when participating in the games and races. If his broad smile was an accurate indication, he was having the time of his life. He joined in the three-legged race with Tim, so awkward they thumped to the ground after only a few steps and earned the good-natured jeers of the onlookers. At Tim’s insistence, Josh accepted the loan of a Diamond S gelding and entered the horse race. He rode well but was no match for his range-trained opponents. He came in last.
A little later, a score of men and boys lined up for a foot race. Josh sprang forward at the starting gun, widened the gap between him and his competitors, and outdistanced them all. He accepted the blue ribbon but said, “Put the cash prize in the collection plate tomorrow. The church needs it more than I do.” It earned him a loud cheer of approval from the merrymakers.
When Josh returned to Ellie, his mouth twitched. “Did I redeem myself ?”
“Of course. Where’d you learn to run like that?”
“I was talking about the three-legged race, not the foot race.” The twitch grew more pronounced.
Ellie felt her mouth fall open. She tried three times before she could speak. “You—you—are you saying you fell down on purpose?” she stuttered.
A mysterious light came into his eyes. “Shhh! Don’t tell Tim, but I thought if folks saw me sprawled on the ground, maybe they’d forget your spill.”
Ellie’s heart lurched. What kind of person was Josh? They’d just met, yet he’d cared enough about her feelings to turn attention from her clumsiness to his. “You redeemed yourself. Thank you.” Ellie could say no more.
A fiesta highlight was the piñata hung on a tree branch. One by one, Matt and Sarah blindfolded the children and gave them a long pole. Each had three chances to strike and break the burro-shaped container and set the children scrambling when candy and toys showered down. Yet child after child struck and missed, or only rocked the piñata.
At last the time came for Curly and Katie’s children to try. They looked wide-eyed up at the piñata. Riley’s lip quivered. “It’s too high.”
“We’re too little,” Kathleen said. Tears sprang to her Irish blue eyes.
Ellie wanted to cry, too. Why hadn’t they hung a piñata on a lower branch to give the smaller children a chance? Evidently this one was stronger than most. Neither of the Prescotts would be able to break it if the bigger kids hadn’t succeeded.
Quick as a flash, Josh demanded, “Where are those poles? No blindfolds for us. We’ll show you how to break a piñata.” He scooped Riley up in one arm and Kathleen with the other. Then he snatched a pole from Tim and said, “Kids, put your hands above mine. Everyone else stand back.”
The crowd fell silent and edged away.
“Ready. Set. Swing!”
Crack. The pole smashed into the piñata. It burst and spilled its contents onto the ground below. A great shout went up from the crowd. The children surged forward. Tim restrained the others while Josh lowered the Prescotts. “Riley and Kathleen get a head start,” Tim said. “They broke the piñata.”
Moments later, happy laughter rang across the yard—but none happier than Ellie’s. If Josh hadn’t already redeemed himself, his caring actions with the disappointed little ones would have done the trick. Needing time to sort out her turbulent feelings, Ellie slipped away to her room. She crossed to the window and stood so she could remain unobserved but view the throng stretching from yard to corral and beyond.
A parade of children—led by Caleb and his brother Gideon—crowded close to Josh, holding up their treasures for him to see. Their delighted shouts curved Ellie’s lips in a sympathetic smile. She thought of Jesus. He, too, had gathered the children around Him. He had ordered His disciples not to turn them away, as Luther Talbot was vainly attempting to do with the children below. What a wonderful, godly father Josh would make!
Ellie left the window and removed her lace mantilla. Lovely as it was, she longed for the cool evening breeze to waft through her hair. Besides, this was no time to think about Joshua Stanhope’s qualifications for fatherhood. Not with the fiesta reaching its height. Not when the spicy aroma of barbecued beef drifted up to tantalize and remind her of the long plank tables resting on sawhorses and laden with food. Not when several fiddlers and the best square dance caller in Madera county waited to step into the limelight and provide joy for young and old alike.
Ellie felt her face flame with anticipation. She loved square dancing and never lacked for partners, especially freckle-faced Johnny Foster, who used to deliver telegrams to the Diamond S. For the past year or two, his worshipful gaze followed Ellie whenever she encountered him.
She washed her hands, cooled her sun-warmed face, and whispered, “Will Joshua dance with me? Or does he refrain from dancing because of his calling?”
There was but one way to find out. With a last, reassuring glance in the mirror, Ellie left her bedroom. At the top of the staircase, she checked to make sure she was alone. Then she bundled her skirts around her, slid down the banister rail, and hurried back to the fiesta—and Joshua Stanhope.