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Authors: Heather Blanton

BOOK: A Lady in Defiance
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“It’s funny, but they don’t talk about the food as much as
they do you and your sisters. I think a lot of the men are actually glad that
maybe the town might be settling down some now.” She realized then that many of
the comments lumped her in with the bad elements in town, but shared them
anyway. “One man said that when a few respectable girls come into town, a church
and schools won’t be far behind. I overheard Matt Wilson tell Nate Ledford that
even if the food tasted like cow dung he’d come just to sit and watch you pour
his tea. Isn’t that funny?”

Hanna laughed and shook her head. “It’s almost like they want
a chance to act civilized.”

“Defiance is out of hand because of a few really bad folks,”
Daisy explained. “The worst group is among the prospectors. They’re just
drifters, going from gold camp to gold camp. They’re the ones who start most of
the trouble.”

Hannah patted the bed. “Forgive my manners. Please, have a
seat. Tell me, what about the men who work in the mine? Are they a rough lot?
I’ve tried so hard to say behind closed doors, I feel like a hermit.”

“Well, the miners aren’t so bad, really,” Daisy sat down on
the bed, almost at the opposite end. For her, it was a comfortable space. “Most
of them aren’t boys anymore. They’ve tried their hand at prospecting and would
rather just have a regular paycheck. A ton of them send money back home to
mothers and wives and, since Mr. McIntyre won’t tolerate drunk or sloppy
workers, they pretty much mind their P’s and Q’s.”

The conversation dragged then and Daisy thought Hannah looked
preoccupied. Finally, her friend asked about the Bible. “So, have you had a
chance to do any reading?”

The sudden change of direction opened the door for Daisy to
in turn ask a question that had burned in her heart since hearing Hannah’s
story out in the backyard. “Some. A little. It’s hard for me, though.” She
leaned forward and asked with sincerity, “Is it wrong to have a Bible in a
saloon?”

Hannah thought about the question then shook her head. “I
wouldn’t think so. Jesus said it’s not the healthy who need a doctor but the
sick. And he was accused of being a wine-bibber because he ate so often with
known sinners. But they came to hear him speak. They wanted to be near him
because he didn’t judge them.” Hannah took a deep breath and smiled warmly at
Daisy. “Look, Mollie, I’ve never been around prostitutes. I can’t imagine what
your life is like. But you said it makes you feel dirty and worthless.
That
I do know something about. And I know Jesus didn’t die so I could stay trapped
in those feelings.” Daisy’s heart started racing again. The fire in Hannah’s
eyes captivated her soul; she found her passion was contagious. “God loves us
just the way we are but he refuses to leave us that way. Think about giving him
your heart, Mollie. If you can accept that he forgives you, I promise he’ll
change your life.”

Hannah scooted over and clutched Daisy’s hands. “He is so
willing to forgive you. In fact, his word says, if we confess our sins, he is
faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all
unrighteousness.” Daisy bit her lip as she felt her eyes tearing up. Hannah
believed so ardently in Jesus, she made it hard to turn away from him. “I don’t
mean to push you, Mollie, and I know you probably have lots of questions. It’s
just that, sometimes, I feel like you’re the reason we’re here.” Daisy looked
away, almost scared to speculate on the meaning of that. “In my wildest dreams,
I would have never thought things would turn out like this. But I’m glad we’re
here…and I’m glad I’ve gotten to know you.”

Daisy blinked, sending the tears spilling, and thought about
the life she was living. “Are there any women like me in the Bible?” Was there,
she wanted to know, a black-and-white example of what Jesus would say to
someone like her?

“Yes. And he loved them dearly.”

Hannah had a pencil and several sheets of paper sitting on
the trunk next to her bed. She took a sheet and the pencil and started writing,
using her great, round abdomen for a desk. She quickly scribbled something down
and handed the paper over to Daisy. “Once you’ve read these, will you come back
and tell me what you think?”

Hand trembling, Daisy slowly took the paper and nodded.

 

 

When Daisy returned to the saloon that night, she tucked the
sheet of paper away in her night stand with the Bible and started dressing for
work. As she fastened each button in her worn, low-cut dress, her spirits sank
deeper and deeper.  And with each step down the staircase, the lewd
laughter, choking smoke, and bawdy music assaulted her like physical blows. A
group of rowdy prospect¬ors departing the next day for warmer climates had invaded
the Iron Horse. For one more Friday night in Defiance, they brought Hell to
earth…at least for her. The shame and guilt of it left her unable to even look
at the Bible for days.

 

 

 

 

Chapter
25

 

The end of October was feeling fickle and decided one morning
to drop an unexpected autumn snow on Defiance. A pure, undefiled blanket of
white draped itself gently over the town, hiding its sins. Naomi stood on the
porch, amazed at the deceptive beauty of it...and the silence. For an hour or
so at dawn, Defiance sat still and quiet as if everyone had agreed not to
disturb the picturesque scene.

As she savored the quiet, Hannah screamed from upstairs. The
fear and pain in her little sister’s voice jolted Naomi out of her reverie.
Heart in her throat, she raced to Hannah’s room, fearing unimaginable tragedy.
Instead, she found Rebecca calmly helping a pasty-faced Hannah back to bed.

“The baby’s coming.” Rebecca sounded calm as she pulled the
covers over Hannah. “She said she’s been having contractions since around
midnight, but they’re only a few minutes apart now and more intense.”

Naomi swallowed the fear that tried to tighten her throat.
“What should we do?” Just then another contraction hit Hannah. A deep groan
escaped her as her face contorted into a grim mask of pain. She writhed in the
bed but Rebecca held onto her hand and whispered comforting words in a soothing
voice. “I should get the doctor,” Naomi whispered.

Oh, God, please let him be sober.

“Yes, but let’s pray first,” Rebecca suggested firmly. Hannah
nodded emphatically at the suggestion as the pain faded away. Naomi practically
ran to the bed and knelt on the floor. She caressed her little sister’s
forehead then took her hand and Rebecca’s. “Everything is going to be just fine…”
Naomi wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince with her words, but repeated
them anyway. “Just fine.”

 

 

Unclear on how to contact the doctor, which now struck her as
a painfully stupid lack of preparation, Naomi was forced to go to the saloon.
She stopped in the middle of the dark, silent room and simply shouted for Mr.
McIntyre. She didn’t know which room was his and she had no desire to go
upstairs knocking on doors at this hour. If her yelling woke the entire
building, so be it. He came out of the first room at the top of the stairs,
tugging on a robe and looking astonished to find her standing in the Iron
Horse. Other doors opened and Flowers, Naomi assumed, peered down as well.

 “The doctor. We need the doctor. Hannah’s baby is
coming.”

Despite his groggy look, Mr. McIntyre didn’t hesitate in
responding. “I’ll dress and fetch him immediately.”

~~~

 

 

By early afternoon, Hannah had delivered a healthy,
seven-pound baby boy who shared an uncanny resemblance to his father. She had
known all along he would be a boy just as she had known all along his name
would be William Aaron Page. The Page part, of course, was legally debatable,
but no one in Defiance would ever have cause to argue it.

Cuddling her little fat, pink cherub, Hannah wondered where Billy
was right at that moment. Did he ever think of her? If he could see his newborn
son, she had no doubt he would fall in love with the round face, blue eyes and
perfect little hands. He was adorable and beautiful, and Hannah’s heart
overflowed into her eyes. She couldn’t recall ever having cried out of sheer
joy. Overcome with peace and gratitude, she kissed her precious angel on the
forehead and mused over how amazingly good God had been to her.

A gentle knock on her door brought her out of her tender daydreaming.
She quickly dried her face with her one free hand and smoothed her hair. “Come
in.”

Awkwardly, hesitantly, Emilio peered around the door. A true
sense of deep friendship washed over her at the sight of him. “Emilio, I’m so
glad to see you. Please come in.”

Softly, he shut the door and wandered over to the bed. Hands
behind his back, he leaned over to take a peek at the new arrival. Hannah moved
the blanket out of the way for a better view and Emilio’s face lit up. “Aah,
hees so beautiful.” Hannah grinned, as much from pride as enjoyment of Emilio’s
company. She thought of him now as a brother and couldn’t imagine life without
him. She would always be eternally grateful that God had let their paths cross
in this far away town. The boy straightened up and shook his head. In a
matter-of-fact voice he murmured, “The father. I theenk he ees an idiot.”

~~~

 

 

The restaurant was closed on Thanksgiving Day, a decision
Naomi and her sisters had made with great difficulty. They wanted, however, a
time to truly thank God for the fact they were still together and that Hannah’s
baby was just perfect and as healthy as a new foal. They insisted that Emilio
join them and Ian arrived with a stunning gift of fancy candies. Hannah had
invited Daisy by way of Emilio, but she had politely turned down the offer.

As Naomi set the table and listened to the easy conversation
coming from the kitchen, she pondered the strange mix of people who would sit
around this table today...and those who wouldn’t. She missed John terribly,
sometimes more than others, but Defiance had forced her to cope with the loss.
He was gone and he wasn’t coming back. It still hurt, but she tried to occupy
her heart with the things she could control: taking care of Hannah, opening the
restaurant, making a life here.

She had toyed with the idea of inviting Mr. McIntyre for
Thanksgiving, but shied away from it in the end, puzzled she’d even thought of
him. This was a gathering of friends and loved ones, she argued, setting an
apple pie on the table. Not meeting her definition of either, Mr. McIntyre was
something of a round peg in a square hole. She didn’t know what to do with him.

The thought brought her to a halt. Why did she have to do
anything at all with him? He was an acquaintance and one didn’t necessarily
invite acquaintances for Thanksgiving supper. Convinced she was satisfied with
that reasoning, Naomi headed back to the kitchen for more food.

~~~

 

 

Thanksgiving Day for Daisy was quiet. She knew the saloon
would be slow until evening. Bored, she looked out her window at the falling
snow and wondered what to do with her free time. Of course, the answer nagged
at her, but she was almost afraid of what she might find if she read the
stories of those Bible women. Had Jesus chastised them for living this way? Had
he challenged them to do anything−sweep streets, sew clothes, beg
even−before settling for this lifestyle? Or had he so touched their
hearts with His forgiveness that the women had up-ended their lives to follow
him, casting off everything they had become to start over fresh and changed?

She stared at the nightstand. How many customers had she been
with since her last visit to Hannah? A dozen? More? She didn’t want to face God
with the stench of sin on her, but she didn’t want to face her friend not
having read those stories. And she wanted to see Hannah, to see the baby, maybe
hold him...

Sighing nervously, she walked over to the nightstand. The
piece of paper Hannah had given her sat on top of the book. She looked at the
first scripture written on it then flipped her way over to John 8. She sat down
and began to read a story that spoke to her as if she had been there herself.

She saw the woman, thrown like a worthless little pawn into
the midst of the arrogant, puffed-up men. Daisy wondered if the woman’s heart
had beat at a breakneck pace as the men accused her, badgered Jesus, and urged
Him to allow them to stone her. In her humiliation, had she wanted to crawl
into a cave or had she stared defiantly at those vipers? She wondered what Jesus
wrote in the sand as He knelt down, trying to ignore their complaints. Then she
saw the most miraculous thing of all: He had focused on their sins, not those
of the woman.

“So when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and
said unto them, he that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at
her. And again he stooped down, and wrote on the ground. And they which heard
it, being convicted by their own conscience, went out one by one, beginning at
the eldest, even unto the last: and Jesus was left alone, and the woman
standing in the midst. When Jesus had lifted up himself, and saw none but the
woman, he said unto her, Woman, where are those thine accusers? hath no man
condemned thee? She said, No man, Lord. And Jesus said unto her,
Neither do
I condemn thee: go and sin no more.”

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