Deborah stared at the door, feeling as if every hope she had cherished had been destroyed by Rob’s exit. The slamming of the door had shattered her hopes as surely as a hammer shattered glass, leaving nothing but shards with edges so sharp they could slice a finger or a tender heart.
She had her answer, and it hurt more than anything she had ever experienced. When he’d stormed out the door, determined to ruin Noah Chapman’s prospects of a life in Cheyenne, Rob had shown his true self. The kind, caring man Deborah had believed she loved was only a mask. The man who’d bellowed at his daughter was the real Rob.
“I hate him!” Tears streamed down Emily’s face. “I thought he loved me, but he doesn’t. If he loved me, he’d understand how much Noah and I love each other.”
Though she wanted nothing more than to leave this house and never again see the man who’d destroyed her illusions, Deborah could not desert Emily. The girl needed her, perhaps more than she ever had. Somehow Deborah had to find the words to comfort her, though her own heart had been splintered.
“Your father loves you,” she said as she tightened her grip on Emily’s shoulders. “Never doubt that.”
“Then why was he so angry?” Emily’s eyes were filled with a mixture of pain and confusion. “I’ve never seen him like that.”
Nor had Deborah. Rob had never exhibited the telltale signs of anger just waiting to erupt. That was part of the reason why his behavior today had been so shocking. Something had triggered the explosion, and Deborah suspected she knew what it was.
She fixed her gaze on Emily as she struggled for the right words. Emily needed to understand why her father might have reacted as he did, but Deborah could neither betray Rob’s confidence nor destroy Emily’s belief that her parents’ marriage had been happy.
Taking a deep breath, she prayed for guidance. “I think he’s afraid you’re making a mistake. Your father only wants you to be happy.” Deborah had no doubt of that.
Emily brushed the tears from her cheeks, her eyes still wary. “I would be happy if I married Noah. He’s better than all those other men combined.”
Though Deborah agreed, now was not the time to say that. “Unfortunately, your father doesn’t know him.” And that was the problem. Rob had been so angry that he’d refused to even consider meeting the young man who’d captured his daughter’s heart.
“And now he never will. He’s going to run Noah out of town.” This time as tears began to stream down Emily’s face she made no attempt to staunch them. “I’ll never see Noah again. Oh, Miss Johnson, what am I going to do?”
Wishing she had an answer but knowing she did not, Deborah led Emily upstairs and persuaded her to lie down. Though it was too early for bed, perhaps a nap would soothe her. When the girl fell asleep, Deborah rose, torn between what she wanted to do and what she knew she should do. Though the thought of remaining here and facing Rob again made her shudder, she could not abandon Emily.
As she entered her room, Deborah realized she needed to follow her own advice and take some time to calm down. She needed time to think. More than that, she needed time to pray. And that would be best done at home. Quickly, she wrote notes for both Emily and Rob, then descended the stairs. She would not return until she knew what God wanted her to do.
Rob strode down Ferguson Street. He could have taken a carriage—perhaps he should have—but he needed to vent his anger, and pounding his feet against the street might do that. A battery boy! If the situation hadn’t been so serious, he might have found the thought ludicrous. But there was nothing even remotely amusing about the idea of his daughter being caught in the snares of a man who was like Rachel. Rob knew his type. This Noah Chapman had no genuine feelings for Emily. He only wanted what she could give him.
As he felt his anger rise, Rob took a deep breath, trying to tamp down his fury. Soon he’d meet the boy, and when he did, he’d ensure that his daughter did not make a monumental mistake. Though he had found himself trapped in a loveless marriage, that was not going to happen to Emily.
He was her father. It was his job to protect her, and he would. He couldn’t let Emily ruin the rest of her life. He wouldn’t let her do that. He would take care of the Noah Chapman problem, and then … Rob clenched his fists as he realized that he had no idea how to end the sentence.
And then the bells began to chime. Rob’s footsteps faltered. He’d reached the corner of Ferguson and Eighteen Streets, what residents called Church Corner. It was a corner he’d passed countless times, just as he’d heard the bells hundreds, perhaps thousands of times. There was no reason to stop, and yet something about the pealing made him pause.
Rob’s glance moved from one church to the other, and as it did, he noticed that the door of one was open. It wasn’t the church he usually attended. There was no reason to linger, no reason to have even noticed it, but the sight of that open door beckoned him as surely as if a hand were reaching out to him, drawing him closer. That was ridiculous. He had no intention of going inside a strange church. Of course he didn’t.
Rob stood motionless as the bells fell silent. And then, compelled by a force greater than himself, he walked toward the open door.
Deborah took another sip of tea, savoring the aroma of chamomile. Though it rarely failed to soothe her, today it did nothing to calm her turbulent thoughts. Was she wrong? She had spent an hour in prayer. At first nothing had relieved the turmoil deep inside her, but gradually the agitation that had made her heart ache had faded and she’d felt peace begin to invade her spirit. Though the peace was welcome, it brought with it the question of whether she had overreacted to Rob’s anger.
Yes, he’d been angry, but knowing what she did about his past, Deborah could understand why he’d responded the way he did to the idea of Emily marrying Noah. Yes, she’d seen fury in his eyes, and his expression had been as hard as stone, but unlike Adam, he had not vented that anger physically, other than slamming the door. A door was an inanimate object; it could not be hurt the way a woman’s soft flesh could. No matter how angry he’d been, Rob had done nothing to threaten either Deborah or Emily.
Perhaps she had been wrong in believing he was like her brother-in-law. Everyone had moments of anger. It was how they handled it that mattered.
Deborah took another sip of tea as she reflected on all that had happened today. She had focused on Rob’s anger, but the truth was, she had been angry, too. She had dealt with her anger by fleeing. At the time, she had believed that was the best response, but what if she was wrong? Perhaps she should have stayed and tried to make Rob understand why she believed Noah was the right man for his daughter. Perhaps she should have …
Before Deborah could complete the thought, a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Though she hadn’t been expecting anyone, her address was no secret. She rose and opened the door, her heart clenching when she saw a tearstained Emily standing outside. In that moment, Emily looked so much like Clara had after Adam had hit her that Deborah’s worst fears were revived. What had Rob done?
“What’s wrong? Did he …?” She couldn’t pronounce the words.
Her lips twisted with grief, Emily bit her bottom lip. “He wouldn’t listen to me. I told him I didn’t care what Papa said. I begged him to elope with me, but he refused.”
The relief that surged through Deborah left her knees ready to buckle. It was Noah, not Rob, who was responsible for Emily’s distress. Thank You, God. She offered a silent prayer of gratitude.
“Come in,” Deborah said, drawing Emily into her apartment. She gestured toward one of the chairs. “Sit down. Let me get you a cup of tea.”
Emily shook her head. “I don’t want tea. I want Noah.” Her lips were set in the stubborn expression Deborah had seen when Emily’s wants were thwarted. “I love him, but he says he can’t go against Papa’s wishes.” She stretched out her hands, beseeching Deborah to help her. “Oh, Miss Johnson, what am I going to do?”