Brides of Iowa (13 page)

Tessa locked her fingers around Mama’s Bible and ripped her arm from the drunken oaf’s grasp. Her feet flew down the alley, carrying her away from the nightmarish scene. She didn’t stop until she reached the shed.

Tessa slipped inside the dark refuge, pushed the door closed, and sucked in great gulps of air. Her own heartbeat pounded so loud in her ears that she was certain the despicable man would only have to follow the sound of it to find her. Beads of cold sweat dripped down her neck and back. The skin on her wrist burned where the man’s fingers had scraped when she pulled her arm from his grip. Dizziness washed over her trembling frame, and she allowed her weakened knees to buckle and lower her to the floor. Pressing her back against the door, she closed her eyes and braced her feet against the trunk.

The lingering stench of the man’s sour breath smelled just like Papa’s after he’d come home from town with a bottle in his hand and rage in his heart. She swallowed back the nausea the memory evoked. Uncontrollable shudders spilled over her like a bucket of icy water, and she let go of her tears.

All she’d wanted was some light by which to read Mama’s Bible. Still clutched in her cramped fingers, the book flopped like a half-stuffed rag doll. Even in the darkness, she could feel the torn pages and broken spine. “Mama, I’m sorry. I should have taken better care of your Bible.” Salty tears slid across her lips. Guilt over the damaged Bible hung its accusing weight around her.

She reached out to feel for the trunk’s latch. Her fingers found the leather flap, and she lifted the lid, tucking the Bible inside with a heavy heart. Wrestling the trunk’s bulk across the small space, she wedged it against the door.

Tomorrow’s daylight would no doubt point further condemnation at her when the full measure of harm to the Bible became apparent. For now, she’d lie on her quilt and listen for staggering footsteps and a slurred voice.

Darkness still hung its heavy curtain over the town, but Gideon hadn’t been able to close his eyes all night except in prayer. He tiptoed in his stocking feet down the back stairs to the solitude of the mercantile.

Despite trying to deny what he saw, the fact remained Tessa was consorting with some disreputable-looking man in front of the saloon. True, she disappeared into the shadows and the man entered the saloon without her. But what if things were as they appeared?

Tessa seemed repulsed by the idea the day Kilgore blurted out his sordid offer. Either she’d been pretending, or she’d swallowed her pride and accepted the job.

Gideon raked his fingers through his hair. Two pictures tangled in his mind—one of Tessa standing in the doorway of the house he hoped to build someday and the other of Tessa outside the saloon with that man. The two couldn’t be reconciled to each other. If God was going to answer his prayer for a good marriage, the Lord certainly wouldn’t draw him to a fallen woman.

“God, I’m confused. Were You truly leading me to Tessa? Should I continue working on the bakery if she’s made the choice to work in the saloon?”

The sign he’d finished painting yesterday lay on the shelf in the storeroom, ready to hang in the front window of the mercantile. The cheery yellow and green letters he’d painted were now dry. T
ESSA’S
B
AKERY
. When he’d spoken the words yesterday, he’d done so with excitement. Now they sounded hollow. His heart ached with the possible truth of what he’d seen.

“God, I thought maybe Tessa was the woman You’ve chosen for me. Maybe I was wrong. Please make things clear for me, so I can follow the path You want me to take.” A verse in Psalm 5 came to mind.
“Make thy way straight before my face.
”

No audible voice responded, but an unmistakable nudge moved in his heart—God’s admonishment to not judge but simply wait.

Wait? All right, Father, I’ll wait. Please reveal Your will to me one way or the other. I thought setting Tessa up in her own bakery was Your plan. Maybe it wasn’t. I thought maybe You had chosen Tessa for me. Maybe You didn’t. All I can do is wait.

“At any rate, maybe it’s a good thing I found out about this before I started having real feelings for her.” Incrimination prickled in his middle. Whether he admitted it or not, his heart was already drawn to Tessa.

He propped the front doors open and displayed the O
PEN
sign.

He spent the morning moving stock from one shelf to another, muttering as he went. Sometimes having no customers in the store was a good thing. He could talk to himself without anyone thinking he was daft. There was more than one reason a man could go loony, and he suspected most of those reasons had to do with women.

He worked his way along the shelf, until he came to his inventory of crocks, the ones with the snug lids. He picked one up and stared at it. If he felt nothing for her, why did it matter to him that she needed a vessel to keep mice out of her food? Why did the prospect of Tessa working in the saloon fill him with an ache so painful he could barely draw a breath? He returned the crock to the shelf.

“That’s the problem. I do feel something for her, and the way she’s living bothers me more than I can put into words.” He dropped his arms to his sides. “That’s not the only thing I can’t put into words.”

Light footsteps on the wood floor made him turn. If there was a day that he didn’t want to look at those hazel eyes, this was it. The morning sun gilded her hair, turning it the color of sun-ripened wheat. She sent him a shy smile, and he nearly choked on his thoughts.

“Good morning, Gideon.”

He let out the breath he was holding. “Morning.”

She walked up to the counter and laid down eighteen cents. “Thank you for bringing the crock. That was very kind.”

Gideon detected a hint of strained humiliation in her voice, but she didn’t utter a word of anger over his deed.

“Do you sell candles?”

His tongue simply lay there, paralyzed between his teeth, and refused to function.
Answer her, you idiot, or she’ll think you’ve lost your mind.

At that moment he was quite certain he’d lost his heart, but God’s instructions were to wait. He had a hundred questions to ask her, and he feared the answers. Impatience hammered inside his rib cage.

But in the meantime, she was standing there waiting for an answer. What was her question? “I’m sorry, what did you need?”

Tessa sent him a skeptical look. “Did I come at a bad time?”

Gideon kicked his brain into motion. “No, not at all. What can I get for you today, Tessa?”

Her brows lowered into an uncertain frown. “Candles?”

“Sure. I carry several sizes.” He forced his feet in the direction of the shelf that contained the large divided tray with a variety of candles. He scooped up a handful of the most popular size. “These are two cents apiece. How many do you need?”

“Just one, please.”

Gideon paused in midmotion. “One candle?”

She straightened her shoulders. “Yes, please.” She laid two pennies on the counter.

“You sure that’s all you need?”

She leveled her gaze straight into his eyes. The hazel eyes darkened a bit and erected a stubborn, defensive barrier. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“One candle it is.” He laid her purchase on the counter and picked up the pennies. “Before you go, I have a surprise for you. Wait right here.” He hurried to the storeroom. As he picked up the kitten, he allowed his gaze to drift over the stove, worktable, and shelving. This would be the perfect time to show her the work he’d put into the project on her behalf. No, he needed answers to some of his questions first. And besides, God told him to wait. He returned to the front with the kitten in his arms.

The guarded look in her eyes fell away. “Oh! What a sweet kitty.” She reached out and gathered the ball of orange-and-white fluff against her chest. “Just listen to that purr. It’s like she’s singing.” She caressed the kitten’s head, and the little cat reciprocated by rubbing against Tessa’s chin. “You mean you’re giving her to me? To keep?” Her eyes glistened.

“I thought she might keep you company.”

Her smile put the rays of the morning sun to shame. “Oh, thank you, Gideon.” She buried her nose into the kitten’s silky fur. “We had barn cats back in Indiana, but Papa wouldn’t let me pet them. He said their only purpose was to keep down the mouse popula …” The word faded on her lips, and she gave Gideon a knowing look.

“Cats are good for that, too, I suppose.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. He hadn’t fooled her at all. “Whatever your reason for giving her to me, thank you, Gideon.” She scratched the kitty under the chin. “I think I’ll name her … Daisy. But now I really must hurry and get back to work. I told Flossie I’d only be gone a few minutes. It’s all I can do some days to keep up with all the orders for cakes and pies.”

Uncertainty and impatience drove all good sense from his head. “Cakes and pies? I thought you changed jobs.”

Tessa shook her head. “No, I’m still working at the hotel kitchen. Why would you think I’d gotten another job?”

Heat climbed his chest and burned its way up his neck. “I saw you—last night. In front of …”

Her eyes widened, and the color drained from her face. Apparently she didn’t know she’d been caught.

He hated confronting her, but he had to know the truth. If her stricken expression was any indication, he must be right.

Tears filled her eyes, and she hugged the kitten close. “You saw me out in front of the saloon so you supposed that I was working there?” Mortification permeated the curves of her mouth, and fire lit her eyes.

What he first thought to be tears of shame, he now realized were tears of anger. “Well, I—”

“You what? You assumed I was the kind of girl who would take a job like that?”

“No, I—I mean, I saw you, and I—I just wondered …”

“You wondered what I was doing there.”

“Well, yes. Tessa, why?”

Her jaw muscle twitched, and her eyes narrowed. “Not that it’s any of your business,
Mr.
Maxwell, but I was looking for some place where I could read my mother’s Bible.”

Gideon blinked. “Oh, so naturally you would go to the saloon to read the Bible.” He couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice. “Tessa, that makes no sense. Why would you do that?”

She sucked in a breath and blinked rapidly, but a tear escaped anyway as her voice trembled. “Mr. Kilgore wouldn’t let me sit in the hotel lobby or use the lamp in the kitchen. The only other place where there was enough light to read by was the saloon. I didn’t go in. I stood outside by the front window. But it was so noisy, and the men were so—so vile, I decided—” She lifted her chin. “I decided I would simply have to buy a candle so I could read in the shed.” With that, she picked up her candle, snuggled the kitten onto her shoulder, turned on her heel, and marched out the door.

Gideon’s voice failed him. God had directed him to wait, but instead he blurted out what was on his mind. Why couldn’t he learn to listen to God’s instruction? He kicked the corner of the counter and strode to the door. “Tessa! Tessa, wait!”

He caught sight of her skirt as she disappeared around the corner of the alley. He stood there staring, hoping she would come back—but she didn’t. Nausea stung his throat. He owed both Tessa and God an apology.

He was about to turn to go back to the storeroom for a heartfelt talk with God when something farther down the street caught his eye. Standing out in front of the land office was Hubert Behr, and walking up to greet him was Kilgore. The two men shook hands, spoke for a moment, exchanged a piece of paper, and then stepped inside the land office together.

T
essa stormed down the alley toward the shed, huffing each breath out in rhythm with her pace. If Gideon Maxwell thought for one minute he could stand there and accuse her of being a wanton woman, he could just go soak his head in a horse trough.

She’d believed him when he said he was her friend and even felt fluttering tickles in her middle when she thought about him. The confusing ache in her heart tugged her first one way then another.

Realization swept over her. The flutters she experienced every time Gideon entered her thoughts were more than simple attraction. The comfort and warmth of being in his presence grew stronger each time she saw him. To think he assumed she was a woman of loose morals made her eyes water as surely as if he’d slapped her.