Chris gritted his teeth and sat in the desk chair at the jail. He refused to lie about all day. One day of convalescence at home drove him to distraction.
Whelan snickered. “Another day and that leg’ll fester.”
Chris ignored him.
“Yep. You’ll get the gangrene and die.”
“Don’t you ever shuddup, Whelan?” One of the other men groaned.
“You ain’t gonna fare any better.” Whelan smirked. “Another day or so, and that hole he carved in you’s gonna plant you six feet under.”
“If it wasn’t for your sister—”
Whelan cursed. “I told you, all she was was a distraction.”
Chris kept his back to them and opened a drawer to get paper. He’d copy down what they said and use it in court. Only one sheet remained in that drawer, so he took it and opened the next. Instead of paper, tiny, frilly white baby gowns rested there. Irritated, Chris shoved them to the side and grabbed for paper below them. The only paper he located was the letter he was to send to Lucille from Wren.
The whole while, Whelan argued with the men in the other cell. “I told you you’d get a share as long as you took care of the diversion. Didn’t matter whether you sprung her free or not…”
Whelan’s heated words took Chris off guard. “He left me behind when Mama died. If he wouldn’t take care of me when I was only fifteen, what makes you think he’ll suddenly turn into a dutiful brother?…My stepbrother doesn’t value me.” Wren’s words flooded back.
He’d judged and condemned her, yet she’d sat there in his cell sewing clothes for Mercy’s baby. And the letter. He scanned it.
Wren asked Lucille to thank the cook for the recipe for spaghetti. Little Elspeth especially loved it and made a comical mess of herself. Lucille was right in her last letter—the henna finally did completely rinse away. The flower, herb, and vegetable gardens at both Gregor residences were flourishing, but only because of conscientious watering. The church had just installed a lovely stained-glass window, and Wren would love to have her come visit to see it. Three pages of woman talk. Newsy, breezy chatter. Woven among all those tidbits were gentle references to God or the Bible or something about a dear old soul in the congregation who’d done some small kindness. In the most unlikeliest turn of events, Wren had forged a friendship with, and was showing God’s love to, a soiled dove.
She was right, Lord. I wasn’t seeking justice. I sought revenge. It blinded me to the truth. I have to make this right.
“Wren, I’m needing to talk to you.”
“Later.” She continued to knead dough. Little bursts of flour swirled over her hands. “Carmen’s not feeling her best. She and Mercy are both napping upstairs. After I’m done here, I need someone to take me to the mercantile so I can get her some Trenton crackers. Rob says they’ll help.”
“Trenton crackers?”
“The soda in them settles a sour stomach.” She formed a smooth ball of dough, dropped it back into the yellow-striped earthenware bowl, and covered it. “Can you walk me there, or is your wound too sore?”
“You can go after we talk.”
Washing her hands, she mentioned, “Rob’s at the Kunstles’. Ismelda’s in labor.”
“Don’t tell Mercy!”
Wren started to dry her hands. “She already knows. She wanted to go help, but Rob insisted she stay here with Carmen. Mrs. Kunstler has helped him with other births. We all prayed for Ismelda before he left.”
Chris groaned and flopped into the nearest chair. “This is bad.”
“Your leg?”
“No. Mercy knowing about Ismelda. The night she had Elspeth, Stu Key’s wife had a baby. Mercy might think it’s catching. Until Rob got back home, he oughtn’t have told her.”
Wren realized he was serious. She laughed.
“It was terrifying. I’m not going through a labor again—at least, not without him present.”
“You didn’t endure it; Mercy did.”
Chris shook his head. “She’d like to have killed us. Baked cookies by the dozen, then put sugar in the mashed potatoes. Shouted her throat raw, too. And did she have the good sense to birth the bairn in that fine clinic? No, I tell you.” He propped his elbows on the table and buried his head in his hands.
“Don’t jump to conclusions.”
Slowly, he lifted his head. “Your advice is too late.”
“Yes, well—”
“Not about the laboring. About me jumping to conclusions. That’s why I’m needing to talk to you, Wren.”
Wren. She heaved a sigh. She’d come to loathe that nickname. He’d not used it until he slapped her in jail.
“Sit down.”
She shook her head. “The crackers—remember?”
“This is more important.”
“At the moment, my friend is more important—”
“Than you? Nae, lass. ’Tisna so. You’re hurtin’ on the inside, and it’s well past time for that to cease.”
“I’m hale as a draft horse.”
Chris shook his head. “I’m talking about your heart. You were right. Whelan didna care whether you were set free. He used your presence in the jail just to cause a diversion.”
Wren shrugged. She’d not expected anything different.
“Mrs. Kunstler was right, too. As soon as I knew Whelan was your brother, I jumped to conclusions and judged you according to his sins. All this time, you’ve worked your fingers to the bone to scrape by. Then you came here and tended to my family.”
“You have a wonderful family.” You cannot begin to imagine how blessed you are.
“Lass, I’m asking your forgiveness. I wronged you.”
Wren stared at him. “You don’t have to do this, Chris. Awful as it will be, I’ll still swear to tell the truth in court. What you say to me won’t change what I must do that day.”
He jolted. “I’m not talking about that. Nae, I’m not. I’m trying to tell you I might have a hard head, but the truth matters to me. Aye, it does. I canna have you thinking I’m proud of what I did. I canna let you go on believing I think ill of you.”
“Okay. Thank you. Can we go get the crackers now?”
“Are you listening to me, Wren?”
“All of Texas must be listening. You don’t have to shout. And once and for all, will you decide what you’re going to call me?” As soon as she said that, Wren clamped her mouth shut.
“The ruse is o’er. There’s no need for you to have to go by Katie any longer.” His brows furrowed. “Dinna you like sharing your name with a songbird?”
She shrugged.
“Dinna feign ’tis of no consequence. You wouldn’t have said anything otherwise. What’s wrong with ‘Wren’?”
“Wrens are small and drab and common. Everyone who called me that shooed me off like a nuisance. Katie—” her voice caught. “Never mind.”
“Oh, I’m minding. I’m minding a lot. Everyone here calls you Katie. Aye, and they cherish you. You even said so yourself.”
She started shaking. “The crackers—”
“Will be there an hour from now.”
An hour? She didn’t want to talk to him for even one more minute. She felt vulnerable, raw.
“Katie—”
“Don’t call me that.” The words flew from her mouth before she even thought them through.
“ ’Tis a pretty name for a lovely lass. But I’ll respect your wish. Aye, I will. By your leave, I’ll be calling you Kathryn until I’ve earned the right to call you Katie.”
“You’ve better things to do with your time. Once Mercy’s had the baby and the trial is over, I’ll leave.”
“You’ll stay right where you are. I promised I’d see to it that you were settled in a happy location.”
“I have been happy here—but it’s time for me to move.”
“Why? Because of me?”
She bit her lip and thought through her answer. “It’s not just you. Other places, once someone learned Whelan was my stepbrother, the people figured I was cut from the same cloth.” She shrugged self-consciously. “I’m accustomed to pulling up stakes.”
“You willna do that this time. Nae, you willna.” He nodded his head. “I was in the wrong of it, judging you by his measure. You canna forfeit your happiness because you judge everyone else here by my reaction. Think on it: I had to chase folks away. Aye, I did.”
Wren shook her head.
“Lass, folks here learned a lesson several times o’er in the past two years. I dinna want to offend, but I’ll speak the truth, because ’tis wondrous in the end. Elspeth is the child of a vile attack.”
Wren’s jaw dropped open. “But Rob—”
“Loves Elspeth wi’ all his heart. Folks here didna know how to deal with Mercy’s predicament, so they ignored her. It nigh unto broke her heart. Carmen—bless her—was a stalwart friend, and Rob discovered his feelings ran deep for Mercy. He wed her and named Elspeth after our own Ma.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, you’re right. That is wondrous.”
“Aye, ’tis. And so is how folks learned to look past the situation and care for Mercy. But the story doesna end there. You’ve met Jenny.”
“Isn’t she a dear? And she sews so beautifully!”
“Aye, that’s how we all think of her—now. Has she ever mentioned her past?”
“But that’s in the past! She found Christ.”
“Aye, and we all celebrated her salvation and wanted her to find happiness. Folks here gave her a second chance. And then there’s Carmen.”
“Carmen?”
“She’s a fine woman—inside and out. Men hereabouts looked at her limp and decided she wouldna be a good wife. ’Twas foolishness. Aye, and now Duncan and she are besotted wi’ one another and anticipating a wee little blessing.”
Joy lilted in his deep voice. Christopher made for a complete bundle of paradoxes. He’d spoken of indelicate matters very delicately. He could be gruff and abrupt, yet he’d been careful to get down to a little boy’s level and treat his concern over a marble as if it were vitally important. He sat here, telling her about how other women found happiness regardless of the past issues in their lives, yet he’d jailed her. Trying to clear her thoughts, Wren shook her head.
“Attend to me, Kathryn.” His calloused hand slid over hers. “Dinna dismiss what I’ve said. Everyone else for miles around—they learned what God intended. Instead of allowing human nature to take o’er and making snap judgments, they’re striving to see others through God’s eyes. Me? I’m as thickheaded and stubborn hearted as a cantankerous old mule. Rob—he’s the smart brother. Duncan? He’s the one whose heart is attuned to the nudging of the Holy Spirit. Me? I’m the one who didna learn from my brothers’ examples or pay heed to the message all our friends and neighbors learned from God.”
She steeled herself with a deep breath and slid her hand away. The loss of warmth and shelter struck her hard. Nonetheless, she folded her hands in her lap. “Openhearted as they are, the people around here would be easy game for a wolf in sheep’s clothing. God sets a hedge about His people for protection. You’re prickly.”
A prolonged sigh rumbled out of him. “I’ve thorns aplenty.”
“Maybe it’s for God’s purpose. The Lord might have created that quality in your soul because He needed you to be a warrior and not a lamb.”
“There’s a bonny thought, but I canna agree fully. His sheep shouldna become ensnarled in the hedge He sets about them for their own good. I yanked you away from the flock and wounded you. Aye, I did. ’Tis a sorrowful thing I’ve done, and I’ll do my best to make it up to you, little Wr—Kathryn.”
The remorse in his eyes and voice tore at her. Carmen needed the crackers, but Chris needed her forgiveness far more. “There’s nothing to make up, Christopher. Nothing. I admit, when you first imprisoned me, I was outraged. But I came to realize how my attitude revolved around my feelings, and I hadn’t stopped for even a moment to seek God’s will. I asked Him to reveal to me what He would have me know.” Her voice started to tremble, and she blinked back tears.
“Ooch, lass,” Chris moaned.
“Remember me crying when Mrs. Kunstler brought the cinnamon rolls? She labored and made a special trip and bared the ache of her heart just to comfort me. And Mr. Rundsdorf? Carmen and I have made him several shirts—but he wants to be my first customer. Regardless of how it pains him to sit up for a long time, he came and visited me each day. I wouldn’t have ever learned God’s lesson for me if you hadn’t locked me up.”
“What lesson was that?”
“That I’m not just a burden—a mouth to be fed or a pallet to be tripped over. Most people will see me as Wren, but there are a handful to whom I’m Katie.” Suddenly feeling raw and vulnerable, she shot to her feet. “I really must go get those Trenton crackers for Carmen.”
He rose. “I’ll go along.”
And that says it all. He’ll never trust me. I have to leave as soon as Mercy doesn’t need me. This is his home. By staying here, I’m pushing him away from his own family.