Aglorious rainbow hung over San Francisco on the morning of the day Ellie was to sing at Marvin Stanhope’s mission. Ellie drank in the sight from her bedroom window. She needed to talk with Mrs. Stanhope, but couldn’t tear herself away until the last shimmering remnant disappeared.
Ellie found Mrs. Stanhope reading in the library. The girl had long since discovered the way to her sponsor’s heart was to ask for advice, so she went right to the point. “I know you don’t approve of my going to the Rescue Mission, but I need your help.”
Mrs. Stanhope sighed. “I don’t approve, but Charles assures me you won’t be in any danger. I must admit that good has come from the Chronicle article about your singing there. Tickets for our Occidental Mission Home for Girls benefit concert are sold out. There’s also a long waiting list.” Her blue eyes gleamed with excitement.
Ellie remembered her experience in Chinatown and shuddered. “I’d sing my heart out to help Margaret Culbertson’s work.”
“Good for you!” The approval in the older woman’s voice thrilled Ellie. In the weeks she’d been in San Francisco, her patroness had gone from pride in her protégée to obvious fondness. After the first concert, she’d made Ellie feel like a daughter of the house. Ellie felt red flags fly in her hot cheeks. God willing, perhaps one day Mrs. Stanhope would be willing to accept her as Josh’s wife.
“What is it you need?” Mrs. Stanhope inquired.
Ellie put aside her daydreams. “I need advice on how to dress tonight. Should I wear a simple calico? I don’t want to be so dressed up the men will be uncomfortable.”
Mrs. Stanhope fitted her well-manicured fingers together. “Let me think.” She wrinkled her forehead. “You’re right in not wanting to cause embarrassment. It isn’t the socially acceptable thing to do.”
Ellie suppressed a grin. Leave it to Mrs. Stanhope to think of that.
“On the other hand, I’m sure the…uh…residents at the mission have seen your picture in the Chronicle. If you dress too plainly, the men may think you feel they aren’t worthy of fine clothes.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Ellie looked at her sponsor with respect. It seemed out of character, yet why should it? Autocratic and determined to have her own way, Mrs. Stanhope had a warm heart, as evidenced by her concern for the young Chinese girls in the city.
“Let’s go look over your wardrobe.”
“All right.” Ellie trotted up the stairs after Mrs. Stanhope.
One by one, Ellie’s lovely gowns were inspected. “Wear this new white muslin,” Mrs. Stanhope advised. “It’s pretty but simple. Wear a yellow sash, and I’ll order a corsage of yellow roses.”
A rush of admiration for her contradictory benefactress filled Ellie. “I don’t suppose you would want to come with us,” she blurted out.
“I? Go to the Rescue Mission? I wouldn’t be caught—” She broke off.
Ellie saw an unexpected struggle between dismissing the idea and breaking through layers of conventionality. It encouraged her to say, “Perhaps you’d find out why Joshua’s life changed after going there.”
Mrs. Stanhope sniffed. “I hardly think that would happen.”
“Please?” Ellie felt as if she were fighting for her future. “Just this once? I’d really like you to be there for me.” And for Josh, she silently added.
“My goodness, but you’re persistent.” A long-suffering look etched itself into Mrs. Stanhope’s face. “If it means that much to you, I suppose I should go, although it’s against my better judgment.” She bustled out. Ellie wanted to cheer.
Ellie would never forget the expression on Marvin Stanhope’s face as his sister-in-law swept into the Rescue Mission. It matched her husband’s and son’s disbelief when she had blandly announced she planned to accompany them to hear Ellie sing. But after the first shocked moment, Marvin rose to the occasion.
“Thank you for coming.” He led his guests to chairs at the front of a shabby room that smelled of cleanliness and boiling coffee. To Ellie’s relief, both the room and its occupants had obviously been subject to strong soap and water. Mrs. Stanhope didn’t turn a hair, even when a motley collection of unfortunates filed in and filled the chairs. Others stood at the back. It seemed as if every derelict for miles around, as well as the Chronicle reporter who sang Ellie’s praises, had come to hear the Sierra Songbird.
Edward sat down at the old but surprisingly well-tuned piano. Ellie had carefully selected a program designed to appeal to this particular audience. “Please sing along if you know the words,” she invited. At first no one except Edward and the newspaper reporter responded. Then grumbling bass and cracked baritone voices joined in on “Aura Lee,” “Sweet Genevieve,” “Beautiful Dreamer,” “Silver Threads among the Gold,” and a dozen others.
Ellie’s heart swelled. Long ago in this very room, Red Fallon had met the Master because of a young man who fearlessly braved a dark alley and rescued him. Her pride in Joshua multiplied a hundredfold.
She gradually shifted from ballads to hymns. At last, Ellie picked up her guitar and signaled to Edward, who joined his parents. After singing “Amazing Grace,” she struck the first notes of “It Is Well with My Soul.” A quick glance into the sin-hardened faces with seeking eyes stilled her fingers. These men knew far too much of tragedy. They didn’t need a song with a history of death and loss.
Ellie’s heart pounded. “I’d like to end with ‘The Ninety and Nine,’ one of my favorite hymns.” She played a single note, laid her guitar aside, and began to sing:
“There were ninety and nine that safely lay
In the shelter of the fold.
But one was out on the hills away,
Far off from the gates of gold.
Away on the mountains wild and bare.
Away from the tender Shepherd’s care. ”
Feeling she was battling despair and hopelessness, Ellie continued her song. She saw expressions change. Dead-looking eyes sparked to life. The reporter leaned forward as if to make sure he didn’t miss a note. Mrs. Stanhope brushed away tears. Her husband radiated satisfaction. Edward looked more serious than Ellie had ever seen him.
She triumphantly sang the final words:
“And the angels echoed around the throne,
‘Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!
Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!’”
A great stillness fell over the room. The bubble of a huge coffeepot on a nearby stove sounded loud in Ellie’s ears. Then a storm of applause reached the rafters. Ellie’s tears flowed, and she stumbled to a seat.
Marvin Stanhope walked to the front. His face glowed with love. “There is greater rejoicing in heaven over one lost sheep who is returned to the fold than for all those who never go astray. Please bow your heads.”
A ripple of movement crept through the audience.
Ellie could scarcely contain her feelings when Marvin said, “Tonight the Good Shepherd is seeking those who are lost. He is not out on some wild, bare mountain or in a deep valley, but here with us. Lord, if there’s one in this place who is willing to follow You, let that person come forward.”
After what felt like an eternity, a wizened old man shuffled to the front. “Pray for me,” he said.
Ellie heard little of the prayer that followed. Her heart thudded against the walls of her chest until it seemed it would burst. Had God led her to San Francisco, not for fame and fortune, but to teach her what Joshua had learned long ago? Service to God through serving His children was what really mattered.
A few days later, Josh sat at his table, reading the excited letter from Ellie for the fifth time. It had taken that many readings to fully grasp her news. What magic had Ellie used to persuade Mother to go with her to the Rescue Mission, a place she’d sneered at for years? His heart leaped. Could it be the first step in reconciliation?
“Yoo-hoo! Preacher Josh, are you home?” a girlish voice called, interrupting Josh’s fervent prayer of thanks.
Josh gritted his teeth. He’d always heard trouble came in threes. Trouble came in twos in Madera: Luther and Amy Talbot. He stepped outside. There was no way under heaven he’d allow Amy inside the parsonage unless others were present. What did she want now? She’d plagued him with invitations until his excuses had worn threadbare.
Amy flitted toward him, a vision in pale pink from parasol to slippers. Lovely, except for her cold, china-blue eyes. “May we go inside? It’s warm for October.”
“We’ll go to the church.”
She pouted. “Abby Fallon’s practicing on the organ. I want to talk to you alone.”
Josh inwardly shuddered. “I hardly think your father would approve of that.”
Amy fluttered her eyelashes and looked sly. “He doesn’t have to know.”
“You think anyone in Madera can do anything without being found out? Besides, I’m on trial here.” He regretted the words the second they popped out.
Amy raised a delicate eyebrow. “Father won’t dismiss you unless I say so.”
Josh didn’t trust himself to answer. He led Amy into the church, ushered her into a pew at the back, and sat down beside her. “Keep practicing,” he called to Abby. “You won’t bother us.”
“She bothers me,” Amy grumbled, then looked down at her gloved hands. “She can’t hear us, can she?”
A warning bell rang in Josh’s brain. “No.”
Amy’s eyes gleamed. “I want to ask you a question. If a girl—a young woman—wants a certain man, is it unmaidenly for her to ask him to marry her?”
Josh gaped like a fish out of water.
“Well?”
Josh found his voice and got to his feet at the same time. He purposely raised his voice, loud enough for Abby to hear. “Miss Talbot, I hope you are jesting. It would not only be unmaidenly, but improper for a young woman to ask a man to marry her.”
It didn’t seem to faze the bold girl. “Even when marrying her means saving the man she wants from being fired?”
Josh could barely conceal his dislike. “Absolutely. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to speak with Abby.” He stepped back into the aisle, but her shrill voice followed him.
“You’ll rue this day!” She elbowed her way past him and ran out of the church, banging the door behind her.
Josh walked to the front of the church and stared at Abby.
“What’s Amy up to now?” she asked.
“That spoiled young lady thinks she can have everything she wants, including me.”
Abby’s giggle brought a reluctant grin. “I probably shouldn’t have told you,” Josh apologized.
Abby sobered, and a worried look came into her dark eyes. “I’m glad you did. Knowing Amy, you may need a witness.” She rested her hands on the keyboard. “Don’t forget that a woman scorned, especially one like Amy, is big trouble.”
“Let’s forget her and talk about the hymns for Sunday,” Josh suggested. “A much more pleasant subject.”
Abby nodded, but before they finished deciding on what songs best fit Josh’s subject, the door slammed open. Luther Talbot stormed in with Amy right behind him.
“Reverend Stanhope, what’s this I hear about you insulting my daughter?” he bellowed. “She came home in tears and refused to repeat whatever it is you said to her. You may do things differently in San Francisco, but we don’t stand for such here.”
Josh felt anger begin at his toes and crawl its way up. “Keep your voice down. This is the house of God.” He ignored Luther’s gasp and fixed his gaze on Amy’s smirking face. “Tell your father the truth, or I shall.”
Amy’s eyes widened, and she put on an aggrieved air. “Why, Preacher Josh, whatever do you mean?”
Sickened by her pretense, Josh turned to Luther. “Mr. Talbot, is your daughter in the habit of asking men to marry her?”
Luther’s jaw dropped. “What are you talking about?”
Josh didn’t give an inch. “I’d hoped never to repeat our little conversation, but since Amy chooses to play innocent, you need to know what happened. I did not insult her. I did tell her it’s unmaidenly and improper for a young woman to ask a man to marry her—and only after she asked. Mrs. Fallon heard what I said.”
Luther grabbed his daughter by the shoulders and shook her. “Is that true?”
“I was only teasing the preacher,” she whimpered. “He took it all wrong.”
Josh’s temper boiled over. “Was it also teasing when you asked if it would still be inappropriate if marrying her meant saving the man she wanted from being fired?”
Amy burst into sobs, freed herself, and stumbled out the open door.
Josh watched Luther’s prominent Adam’s apple go up and down before the gaunt man said, “I may have been a bit hasty.” He turned on his heel and marched out, his spine stiffer than a hickory walking stick.
Abby’s laughter released some of Josh’s fury. She rocked back and forth on the organ bench, then wiped away tears. Mirth, however, soon gave way to concern. “This isn’t going to endear you to either Luther or Amy.”
Josh stared at her. “It also won’t improve my chances of staying on at Christ the Way.” He walked out and headed for the livery stable. The best medicine for getting the Talbots and their doings out of his system was a long, hard gallop on Sultan.