Lou studied herself in the mirror and gave an exasperated huff. Tears formed in her eyes, and she tried once more to twist her hair into the fashionable chignon she’d worn at the wedding last month. Her arms ached from the repeated attempts. She was just about to start all over again when a tap on her door made her snarl.
“What?”
“May I come in?” Deborah’s soft voice filtered from the other side of the door, and Lou nearly fainted in relief. She jumped from her vanity chair, opened the door, and practically dragged her sister-in-law inside, shutting and locking the door after them.
“Deborah, I’m so glad to see you.”
“You look lovely, Lou. I don’t think I’ve seen you wear that dress since the wedding.”
“That’s because I haven’t,” Lou said flatly, in no mood to explain her reasoning even to the one person she could count on not to tease her.
“Grandma said you should hurry. The Testaments are pulling up, and I’m sure everyone else will be arriving for services soon.” She peered closer, and Lou felt her cheeks warm under the scrutiny.
Deborah gave her a kind and understanding smile and, to Lou’s relief, didn’t pursue a conversation about the parson. She merely reached for the hairbrush clutched in Lou’s hand. “May I?” At Lou’s nod, she gently untangled the curly mop, then went to work weaving and pinning until Lou barely recognized herself. Gentle curls sprang attractively from her temples, and a few trailed down the back of her neck.
“You’re a lovely young lady, Lou,” Deborah said, giving her a quick squeeze around the shoulders from behind.
Embarrassed, Lou ducked her head and mumbled her thanks.
Through the mirror, Lou noticed her sister-in-law’s brow crease into a frown.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure you should go out there looking like that.”
Heart sinking, Lou gave herself a harsh perusal. She looked ridiculous. Who was she trying to fool? The brothers would never let her live this down.
Jerking to her feet, she reached around and began to unfasten the buttons at the back of her neck. “You’re right.”
Deborah’s laughter filled the room. “Oh, Lou. I’m only teasing. What I meant was that you look so beautiful, the parson won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you.”
A flush of pleasure burned Lou’s cheeks. “You really think so?”
“I can almost guarantee it.” She gave her a wry smile. “Of course, there’s another problem.”
“What’s that?”
“The Testaments might decide to run off with you after all. King One seems smitten still.”
Lou snorted and reached for her holster hanging on a peg by the door. “If one of those mangy Testament boys comes after me, I’ll give them what I gave King One last year.”
The Testament men’s method of acquiring a wife was nothing short of kidnapping, and Lou was determined not to be a victim to their version of wooing.
The whole lot of them had pretty much left her alone after King One tried to snatch her up when she’d been fishing alone at Cherokee Creek. She’d warned him not to come any closer. But a man like that only knew one kind of discouragement. And a bullet to the shoulder convinced him he’d best leave her be if he knew what was good for him.
With a laugh, Deborah grabbed her hand. “You are not wearing that holster belt. Your brothers will see to your safety today.”
Hesitating for a moment, Lou nodded and released her grip on the belt. “All right, but those Testaments better not come anywhere near me.”
Trent swallowed hard and fought to remember the point he was trying to drive home to his bewildered congregation. This had to have been the most difficult sermon he’d ever preached. From the moment Lou stepped into the room wearing her yellow gown, he’d been tripping over his tongue.
Watching her slender fingers move across the piano keys had effectively robbed him of the long-familiar words to “Blessed Assurance.” If Grandma Stafford hadn’t rescued him by singing extra loud in her slightly off-key voice, he’d have been a laughingstock.
As it was, he detected amusement amid loud clearing of throats. With a disappointed sigh, he glanced about the room and gave up. He hurriedly finished his woefully lacking sermon, then said a quick closing prayer, adding his silent apology to the Lord.
“Just the way I like my preaching, Parson.” Wally Foster pumped his hand, his face lit with a wide, toothless grin. “Quick and not too much to ponder.”
But Trent quickly discovered not everyone was pleased with the lack of spiritual relevance.
Exodus Testament scowled. “I think maybe you ought to pay more attention to your preachin’ duties and less attention to the gals. Ya plumb confused me.”
Humiliation burned Trent’s neck as the man moved on. His wife, Ruth, slipped a work-roughened hand into his. “Don’t you worry none about Exodus. It don’t take much to confuse him. I thought you done a fine job, Parson.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Trent dreaded the line of parishioners behind the lady. Was everyone going to critique his performance today?
He squeezed Ruth Testament’s hand, then released it, expecting her to move on. Rather, she dropped her tone and pressed in closer. “You be careful casting sheep eyes at that Lou Stafford, Parson. That one’s got a mighty harsh temper. Took a shot at one of my boys just a year ago. Winged him in the shoulder, though I imagine she could’ve sent him to glory if she’d had a mind to. So I’m grateful he didn’t rile her more than he did.”
Trent didn’t have to guess which one she winged, as three of the Testament boys guffawed while another scowled, red-faced.
“King One still has a hankerin’ for Lou. ’Specially after getting a look at her today.” The identical Chronicles, One and Two, nudged each other and snorted their laughter at their brother’s expense.
“You boys stop teasing,” Ruth admonished. “He ain’t running off with Lou Stafford.”
Alarm seized Trent. He knew exactly what Mrs. Testament meant when she said, “running off with.” From what he’d heard, the Testaments came from a long line of men notorious for kidnapping their wives. No wonder Lou shot King One. Animosity burned his chest. He’d shoot the man himself if he laid one finger on her.
He scanned the room. He swallowed hard when he saw Lou standing against the far wall. Timmy and Davy stood with her, each vying for her attention. She smiled at one, then the other. Seeing her like this made yesterday’s tussle with Shane, the sheepdog, seem like a distant memory. Now this Lou he could definitely picture settling down with, raising Timmy and Davy and, if the Lord willed, children of their own.
A loud clearing of the throat drew him from his musings, and he looked back to see that the Testaments had moved on. Next he shook hands with Seth Piven.
“Nice message, Parson.” Seth pushed his wife forward. “You remember my missus. Say hello, Opal.” Babe in arms, Mrs. Piven glanced shyly at him. Twin spots of pink appeared on her cheeks. “Howdy, Parson,” she said barely above a whisper. “I’m afraid I can’t shake your hand, what with holding the baby and all.”
Trent’s heart softened to the woman. He knew her husband wasn’t intentionally a poor provider. The man just didn’t seem to realize that shoes and clothing for his family needed to come before buying a new horse or gun or whatever else took his fancy.
He glanced at the line of Piven children, ranging in age from ten years old down to the new baby. They dressed neatly in threadbare clothing that was either too big or too small depending on where the child fit in the family line-up.
They were all clean—other than their feet, which he suspected were dirty from running barefoot in their soddy. He had to hand it to Mrs. Piven; she did her best and seemed to remain cheerful despite a thoughtless husband and the poorest of living conditions.
Reaching forward, he patted her forearm and smiled. “Of course I remember. The baby’s growing fast.” He trailed a finger over the baby’s chubby cheeks. “And she’s even prettier than last time I was through.”
Her face brightened. “Thank you, Parson. They grow so fast.”
“She likes babies, don’t you, honey?” Seth nudged her and, to Trent’s dismay, sent him a wink, jerking his thumb toward the other children. “There’s always more where those came from.”
At a loss for words, Trent gave Mrs. Piven a sympathetic smile and swallowed a sigh of relief as the family moved on to the yard, where tables were set up for a picnic.
The next time Trent came through this area, the weather wouldn’t be mild enough to accommodate an outside get-together. He had a suspicion these good people would find some way to enjoy a common meal. Despite their peculiarities, they knew each other. Cared for one another. He longed to be a part of their close-knit community. He’d had an offer for a permanent position from a small congregation a day’s ride from here. But so far he hadn’t committed. He supposed deep inside, he kept hoping this group would make the same offer. Only a small twinge made him question his desire. If he took one position, would God have him abandon the rest of his flock?
“Fine preaching, Parson.” A soft voice arrested his attention, and Trent turned, coming face to face with a pretty blond he knew as Cynthia Connelly. As he returned her pleasant smile, he had to wonder why the Testaments hadn’t run off with her yet.
He took her proffered, white-gloved hand. “Thank you, Miss Cynthia.”
“Lou’s a mighty lucky girl to have caught your eye.” She glanced at him through pea green eyes.
“Well, now … I didn’t exactly say.”
“Oh, then she hasn’t caught your eye?” Her look of innocence belied the all-knowing tone.
“I’m interested in all my sheep, Miss Cynthia.”
“Well, tell me then.” She leaned in slightly. “Are you interested in me?”
Without waiting for an answer, she released his hand and moved away.
Feeling as though he’d been caught doing something wrong, Trent cast a hurried glance toward Lou. Inwardly, he cringed as he met her scowl. He felt the urge to hurry to her side and assure her he hadn’t encouraged the other girl. Then he chided himself. After all, he hadn’t courted Miss Lou. And he hadn’t done anything wrong.
So why did he want so badly to go to her and explain?
Finally, after everyone had taken their turn shaking his hand, Trent made his way across the room to where Louisa and the boys still chatted.
Timmy grinned a welcome. “Hey, guess what, Parson?”
“What?”
Lou gave him a half-smile, then averted her gaze.
“Lou says she’ll loan me her copy of Tom Sawyer.”
“But he had to promise not to let it fall into a creek like he did his own copy.” Lou smiled fondly at the boy.
“That’s kind of you, Miss Stafford.” Trent searched her face and noted with relief that she wasn’t holding a grudge over the other young woman.
“It’s my pleasure. We can’t leave the boy hanging halfway through the book. That would be torture.”
“I’ll be careful. I promise!”
Lou reached out and ruffled his hair. “I trust you.”
Something about the maternal gesture tugged at Trent’s heart. He wished for a few minutes alone with her—as alone as possible in a room crowded with women preparing food.
“Boys, I noticed there’s a baseball game started outside. I thought you might like to join the fun.”
“Yes, sir! Bye, Lou.” Davy took off toward the door without hesitation.
Timmy hung back. “You want to play with us, Miss Lou?”
Lou’s face brightened, and for a second Trent thought she might say yes, but she slumped back against the wall and shook her head. “I’d better not. Grandma would skin me alive if I got this dress dirty.”
“Aw.” The boy scowled and headed off after Davy.
Trent smiled. “I happen to agree with your grandma. That dress is much too lovely to risk.”
A short gasp escaped her throat. “You think so?”
Taken aback by the unexpected question, Trent raised his brow and studied her expression. Wide eyes indicated she wasn’t fishing for compliments. Still, it was obvious the young woman wasn’t accustomed to receiving them. “As a matter of fact, I do think so. It’s a lovely dress, and you look fetching in it.”
“Th–thank you, Parson. I …” Her face turned scarlet, and her gaze darted from one side of the room to the other. Finally, she glanced at him. “Excuse me, but I think I hear Grandma calling.”
She bolted across the room toward Grandma, who clearly hadn’t been calling but seemed grateful for the help anyway.
With tunnel vision, he watched Lou grab a towel, remove a pie from the oven, and set it on the counter. Then she turned as though summoned by his attention. She caught his gaze, and Trent felt a jolt pass between them.
“Do I need to be asking your intentions toward my sister, Parson?”
Trent’s scope broadened to include Micah. He cleared his throat. “I … well, I didn’t mean any disrespect toward Louisa.”
Micah clapped him on the shoulder. “Relax, Parson. I’m just teasing. No one expects a man like you to take a shine to a girl like Lou.”
Defenses raised, Trent frowned. “What do you mean, ‘a girl like Lou’?”
Micah followed his gaze to the other side of the room where Lou stood with Deborah, Micah’s new bride. “Well, come to think of it, she cleaned up pretty good, didn’t she? And you did seem a little distracted during the service.”
“Louisa is a lovely girl.” He hesitated, embarrassed by Micah’s raised-brow scrutiny. “And quite … nice.”
“You think so? She’s got a temper like a polecat. Just ask King One Testament.”
In no mood to hear the story again, Trent nodded. “True, she’s a little high-spirited.”
“She certainly is that.”
The eldest male Stafford’s amusement was beginning to grate on Trent. So the girl wasn’t exactly prissy. That didn’t mean she wasn’t feminine when it mattered. And from her appearance today, there was no doubt she was a beautiful young woman, able to hold her own in a kitchen.
“Parson, you can rub a piece of glass ’til it shines, but that won’t make it a diamond.”
“And you can rub a diamond with mud, and it’s still a diamond underneath. It just needs to be cleaned up and given a chance to shine.”
Micah gave a conceding nod. “If you want to think Lou’s a diamond, I won’t be the one to discourage you. I’d be pleased to welcome a man of God into the family. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you. You can’t give her back once she’s yours.”
“Now, just a minute. I didn’t say …” But Micah had already moved away.
Trent watched him put his arm around his wife and whisper in her ear. Deborah’s eyes widened, and she stared straight at Trent, an approving smile curving her lips. Feeling the heat rush to his face, Trent made a beeline for the door before Deborah went to Lou and repeated whatever Micah had just said.
Had he just effectively made an offer of marriage? Maybe Micah considered his interest and defense of Lou as equal to the Testaments’ peculiar—and somewhat criminal—method of acquiring a wife.
It wouldn’t be so bad if he could be sure which Lou was the real one. It wasn’t that he minded a spirited woman who could hold her own against a thieving dog or a teasing brother or even a would-be suitor bent on kidnapping, but he had to be certain she could be proper when the need arose. Did she have the necessary skills to be a wife and mother?
The type of woman he married wouldn’t matter so much if he had chosen to be a rancher or a farmer. But God had chosen his path for him. What if he settled into one congregation soon? He had to marry a woman who could keep a proper home, or he’d lose all credibility in the community. Towns had been scandalized by a lot less than the things he’d already witnessed from Louisa Stafford.
As much as he’d love to ignore petty propriety, he knew it existed in society, and right or wrong, folks tended to lump propriety with godliness. His first priority was to see that he was able to minister to his sheep.
He leaned against the porch railing and watched Timmy and Davy playing their ball game with the local children. The boys had lost so much; they deserved to have a home.
Father, show me what’s right for me and the boys. And if Louisa Stafford is the wife You’ve chosen for me, give me peace. If not, help me to forget the color of her eyes, and help me to push away my tendency to want to reach out and test the tendrils of hair brushing against her neck. And about her neck, Lord, help me not to wonder what it would be like to run my finger down the length of it and see if it’s really as soft as it seems.
“Look out, Parson!” Trent looked up in time to see the ball flying toward him. The last thing he remembered was the bruising pain on his forehead right before he landed hard on the porch. Then everything went black.