Brides of Idaho
Authors: Linda; Ford
Glory and the Rawhide Preacher
© 2011 by Linda Ford
Mandy and the Missouri Man
© 2012 by Linda Ford
Joanna and the Footloose Cowboy
© 2012 by Linda Ford
Print ISBN 978-1-63409-798-7
eBook Editions:
Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-68322-034-3
Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-68322-035-0
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted for commercial purposes, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without written permission of the publisher.
All scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
Published by Barbour Books, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, OH 44683,
www.barbourbooks.com
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Printed in the United States of America.
Glory and the Rawhide Preacher
Joanna and the Footloose Cowboy
Glory and the Rawhide Preacher
Bonners Ferry, Idaho, during the Kootenai gold rush, Spring 1864
H
is name was Levi. Levi Powers. Twenty-six years of age. A man intent on fulfilling his vow. He pulled to a halt in front of the saloon, tugged his worn cowboy hat low on his head, and swung from the back of his mount, landing neatly on his feet. This was where he intended to start.
His boots thudded on the wooden sidewalk in front of the swinging doors. He strode inside, grabbed a chair, stood on it, and called, “Would you care to put away your whiskey and cards for a few minutes and hear from God’s Word?”
The place grew quiet. Deadly quiet. Then several tipped chairs dropped to all fours with the crack of a rifle shot.
He studied each and every face. The hardened men, the eager boys who probably shaved once a week, the anxious greenhorns, and—
He stared. A woman. A young woman. A very pretty young woman who flashed him a bold grin. Not the sort of woman who frequented saloons. No tight, revealing bodice. No rouged cheeks. From what he could see as she sat behind a table, she wore a tanned leather vest. A battered cowboy hat hung down her back. Her sorrel-colored hair was bound in a braid as thick as a woman’s wrist.
He jerked his gaze away, but three faces away it returned to her. She leaned her elbows on the table and regarded him as steadily as he did her. Not the least bit ladylike at all. And yet… yet… he felt trapped by her insolent beauty.
What was she doing in here? What sort of town opened its saloon to women? Apart from the usual crude types? Right then and there he knew he had his job cut out for him.
He forced his attention away from her, angled his body so he wasn’t able to look directly at her, and opened the Bible. He had long thought about the words he would say when he found the place where he would start his work. And yet he paused, momentarily forgetting his plan.
Thankfully, the pages fell open at the chosen place. “I’m reading from the Gospel of John, chapter ten, verse ten, where Jesus says, ‘I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.’ My name is Levi Powers, and I am here to tell you about this abundant life Jesus offers. I’ll be available anytime, day or night, if you want to talk. Otherwise, I will be walking the streets, stopping where I see people and telling them the good news. And Sundays, I’ll hold services.”
One bleary-eyed patron raised a hand. “Mister Preacher, where you gonna hold these here services? Ain’t no church.” He gave what Levi expected was supposed to be a laugh, but it sounded more like a choked sigh.
“I’ll preach in a field until I find suitable quarters for a church.” He closed his Bible, signifying he was done.
The room was quiet. Someone coughed. Slowly the noise grew, though not to the deafening level it had been when he stepped inside. He understood his presence made some of them uncomfortable, and he strode toward the door, allowing his gaze to slide to the woman, rest there only a second before he schooled it away. Not the sort of woman a preacher man should be admiring.
She nodded briefly as if acknowledging his thoughts then pushed her chair back and rose.
He hurried out. Heard her booted feet following and waited for her on the rough-board walk.
She dragged a half-drunk man at her side who staggered wildly when she drew up to give Levi an insolent stare.
“Ma’am.” He suddenly didn’t know what to say, but he hadn’t come here to run from challenges of any kind. “Sort of surprised to see a lady in the saloon.” He was even more surprised she wore form-fitting, faded brown britches. He shifted his gaze upward, crashed into her gaze. Her eyes impaled him. Light brown, almost golden. Hard to look at. Impossible to pull away from.
She leaned back on her heels and hooked her thumbs through her belt loops. “Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“See a lady.” She didn’t wait for his reply. “I don’t claim to be a lady. I do what suits me without regard for silly rules.”
“I see.” Though in truth he didn’t. What rules did she consider silly? Her words had the same ringing tone Matthew’s voice carried as he rode away from their grandparents’ farm and straight into trouble. He perceived she was another rebel. This was confirmation of his calling to this town. This woman needed redemption for sure.
“Mr. Powers… or Preacher Powers, or whatever you’ve a hankering to be called… I got no objection to hearing a sermon now and then. Certainly no objection to you reading the scriptures to us, but don’t be thinking you can make rules for everyone to follow. Might be some will gladly do so. But I won’t be one of them.” She grabbed the elbow of the swaying wide-eyed man she’d dragged from the saloon, paused to give his horse the once-over. “Yours?”
“Mine.”
Something flickered through her eyes before she dragged her friend down the street.
“Glory, you sure are a sharp-tongued woman,” the drunk muttered. “But I don’t mind.” He threw an arm across the woman’s shoulders, almost upsetting them both.
Levi took a step forward, thinking to extricate her from the man.
The squeak of the swinging doors signaled another person’s arrival. “I wouldn’t interfere if I was you.”
Levi ground to a halt, though it took a great deal of effort.
“That girl could chew up a man like you and spit him out without a thought.”
“Like me?” He turned to face the speaker. A man like so many he’d seen—his face work hardened and full of weary discouragement.
“Allow me to introduce myself. Claud Wagoner.” They shook hands. “You really going to start Sunday services?”
“I am.” And so much more. He’d made a bargain with God and intended to keep it.
God, You work on Matt, and I’ll work for You out here.
Claud shook his head. “You’re lucky Bull Johnson is away. He owns this saloon and wouldn’t take kindly to you disrupting his business. If ya know what I mean.”
“I expect I do.”
“Bull would not make a good enemy.”
Levi snorted. “Never known of a good enemy.” His gaze had shifted back down the street where the girl and the drunk turned the corner and disappeared from view. “What’s her name?”
“Who?” The man followed the direction of Levi’s stare. “Oh her. That’s Glory Hamilton.”
Glory. An unusual name for an unusual woman.
“Best you stay away from her. She’s not the sort a preacher man should spend time with.”
He had no intention of spending time with any woman except for the sake of turning her feet to the right path, but he wondered why Claud should have such an opinion and asked.
“She is wild as the winter wind. Why, she’s a horse trader.”
This Glory just got more and more interesting. No, that wasn’t the word he meant. It was only that he saw clearly she was part of the reason the Lord had directed him to this place.
Levi tipped the brim of his hat in a good-bye gesture and gathered up the reins of his horse. He didn’t bother to swing into the saddle but led the horse down the street giving each building careful study.
A mercantile that appeared to be doing a brisk business, a freight office, likewise busy, a barber shop also offering baths. He considered the two bits it would cost and decided he would save his money and take a dip in some quiet place in the river. There was a lawyer office and a hardware store with an array of shovels, picks, and buckets displayed in the window. The sign to his left read H
OTEL
, but it was like no hotel he’d ever seen. A rough building. The two windows on the front were missing panes. The door hung crookedly. Flies buzzed around a bucket, and even across the street he could smell the contents. A glance as he passed revealed rotting piles of garbage to the side of the building and he shuddered. He guessed the rooms would be no more appealing. And knowing the sort of person who would stay there rather than outdoors in the clean air, he knew it wasn’t a place where a man could expect to wake up with his belongings still in his possession.
He thought of the business close to the ferry. Bonners Ferry Stopping House offering home-cooked meals. That place looked a lot more appealing as temporary quarters. He’d also noticed a small shop offering to shoe a horse. He’d make his way back there first chance he got and ask to borrow the man’s tools so he could do a little work on his mount’s hooves.
He came to the end of the businesses with modest houses tucked behind them and continued on, passing scattered shacks farther along the road.
A hunched figure trudged toward him. A shriveled woman struggling under the weight of an armload of wood.
He trotted toward her and dismounted as he reached her side. “Ma’am. Let me help.”