San Antonio, Texas, June 1875
Rosie Carson sat in the circle of chairs gathered for the Young People’s Society of the New Testament Church of San Antonio. She loved the Lord and she loved the Bible, even though she found it a little confusing at times. But if she heard any more people read the exciting stories with such droning voices, she’d fall asleep.
By the time Rosie caught up with the teacher in the second chapter of Acts, he was droning on about “tongues of fire” resting on the disciples. She screwed her mouth, trying to imagine a tongue made out of fire. Where did it rest on the head? Did it come out of their mouths?
There was a mention of the Holy Ghost…Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. She’d like to hear more about that. The teacher continued to read as if he were reciting multiplication tables. His voice didn’t convey any of the excitement Rosie felt when she read the accounts of the early Christians.
Some of the witnesses said, “These men are full of new wine.” A picture formed in her mind of church members so excited about the Lord that they were accused of being drunk. She giggled at the image of people with fire sprouting out of their mouths, like circus entertainers, talking in languages half the congregation didn’t understand, staggering about the stage, hollering, “Praise Jesus!” She laughed out loud.
The leader stared at her, directing the attention of everyone in the group to her unfortunate outburst. “Miss Carson, would you care to tell us what you find so very amusing?”
Rosie gulped. Didn’t these people realize how blessed they were, that they had read the Bible so often that it rolled over them like wagon wheels running through the same ruts?
“I’d like to hear what Rosie thinks about the day the church was born.” Macy Braum, a pleasant contrast to her stuffed shirt of a brother, gave Rosie the courage to speak.
“It’s the place where it says people were mocking the disciples and all, saying they were drunk. Here God was doing something amazing and wonderful and all they saw was drunks.”
“Yeah, Braxton, maybe we should hold the next service at the saloon down the street,” a young man Rosie didn’t recognize said.
Laughter followed, although Rosie didn’t think it was such a bad idea. Didn’t Jesus eat with publicans and sinners and even ladies of the night? They were the people who knew they needed a Savior, not people who had grown up without ever wondering where their next meal was coming from.
“At least they took a risk in sharing their faith.” A deep voice from the back of the room said.
Turning, Rosie registered his blond good looks while feeling a bone-deep fear of the authority shouting from every inch of his frame.
Ranger Owen Cooper smiled inwardly at the excitement generated by the young lady’s comment. He almost quoted the verse from Ephesians, where Paul said, “Be not drunk with wine, wherein is excess; but be filled with the Spirit.” He would love to hear Miss Carson’s take on that verse. She might be the only one who noticed it said “in excess.”
Since his parents’ death, Owen hadn’t been home to San Antonio for more than a weekend for several years. His work as a Texas Ranger kept him running from Texarkana to El Paso year-round. On the rare occasions he had time to himself, he stayed near the headquarters in Austin. The life of a Ranger, with open sky and an outlaw’s trail to follow, appealed to him more than the closed-in feeling he had in town and in the congregation of the New Testament Church of San Antonio.
Miss Carson was a pleasant exception. The way the red in her cheeks matched the red leather Bible cover, brown curls bounced against her neck, and her expressive faith shouted her love for God’s Word—she couldn’t bore him if she tried.
The Bible study ended not long after that, leaving the sermon the apostle Peter preached at Pentecost for another lesson. How could a sermon that convicted over three thousand people when Peter preached it stir little more emotion than a recitation of the Apostles’ Creed in the nineteenth century?
After the “amen” of the closing prayer, Owen’s eyes sought out Rosie. She hung back from the crowd, taking a glass of lemonade before retiring to a quiet corner. Wanting to discuss her thoughts on the Bible study, he headed in her direction. Before he could make progress, Macy and two of her friends interrupted him.
“Ranger Cooper.” Nancy Wilkerson, as vapid a woman as Owen had ever met, breathed his name as if the continuation of the state of Texas depended on it. “We were ever so concerned to hear about your injury at the hands of that awful outlaw Wilson. We have been praying for your recovery.”
Owen looked for an escape but found none. The injury she mentioned, not to mention his upbringing on the treatment of ladies, kept him slow of movement. “Your prayers are appreciated. I hope to resume my duties soon.”
“Not too soon,” the third woman, whose name escaped Owen at the moment, simpered. “We are hoping you can stay in our midst for an extended period this time.”
“That depends on the doctor’s report.” And whether Owen could sway his opinion to let him return to duty as soon as possible. He glanced again at Miss Carson, who sat by herself, responding on the infrequent occasions when someone spoke to her.
Miss Wilkerson turned in the same direction as Owen’s gaze. In a stage whisper, she said, “You seem quite taken with our Miss Carson. But I must warn you, she isn’t someone you would want to associate with, not at all.”
Someone as experienced as Miss Wilkerson must know that kind of warning often served to send most men straight to Miss Carson’s side. He simply lifted his right eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Nancy.” Macy stopped her friend before she could say more. “Miss Carson is our sister in Christ. I especially invited her to come, and I won’t have you gossiping about her past. In fact, I will go over there right now and say hello. Do you want me to introduce you, Owen?”
Rosie had moved. She returned her glass to the refreshments table and walked out of the house.
“Too late. She just left.” He moved in the direction of the door, but another group of interested ladies, as his mother described them, blocked his path.
Owen sighed. If Miss Carson was a new Christian, he should have other opportunities to speak to her, away from curious stares.
He found his next opportunity at church on Sunday. New Testament Church offered a Sunday school class for the adults as well as for children. Owen spied Miss Carson in the back row of the sanctuary, where the class was held. By virtue of moving quietly during the final prayer, he reached her before she could disappear.
“Yes?” Lively brown eyes peered at him from beneath a fringe of curls.
“Perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is Owen Cooper.” He didn’t give his occupation or rank. “I find myself in San Antonio for a few weeks.” He didn’t like to mention the injury either, not wanting pity.
Recognition dawned in Rosie’s face. Of course, his name had been placed on the church’s prayer list. Miss Carson’s mind was cataloging him, name, rank, and family.
“You’re the Ranger.” Her eyes clouded. “You were injured, chasing that outlaw Wilson.”
“That’s me.” He wanted to get her mind off the subject that had drawn a curtain of some kind between them. “I confess I’ve spent several moments wondering about the reaction of the crowd to men who appeared drunk.”
A bit of humor returned to her expression. “I went ahead and read the rest of the chapter. That was quite a sermon Peter preached! Although I do have some questions about—”
Before Miss Carson had a chance to voice those questions, Miss Wilkerson came up behind them. “Excuse us, please, won’t you, Miss Carson?” Somehow she swept toward the doors, holding on to Owen’s arm. She leaned in, closer than he liked, and whispered, “I wanted to warn you. Miss Carson is a thief. She’s spent time in jail. She only started coming to church a month ago, after she came forward at a revival meeting.”
“Miss Carson is a thief.”
Nancy Wilkerson’s words stung Rosie like the bite of a whip. Pastor Martin said to hold her head high; she was a new creation. The old, thieving Rosie had passed way, and a brand-new, baby Christian had taken her place.
At the pastor’s urging, two weeks ago Rosie had shared her testimony in front of the church. Mostly she had done what she had to to get food and shelter for her family. But during that last robbery, the storekeeper had pulled a revolver. Rosie’s brother struck first; the storekeeper was injured, but Jimmy died. Because of the physical injuries, to both the criminal and the victim, the judge had decided to send a strong message. She’d spent two years in jail, only getting released two months ago. When the police officer who’d taken an interest in her suggested she attend the revival service, she learned about a loving God, and the Good News transformed her life.
Most of the church people didn’t know what to do with her. At best, they pitied her. At worst, they shunned her.
The first person who had seen the new Rosie, the woman who was hungry for God, and who considered her worth listening to, stood on the other side of the door. God, You’re up to some strange tricks if You think a Texas Ranger and a convicted thief can ever be friends.