Colorado Dawn (62 page)

She searched for Francine, who set her jaw, crossed her arms, and glared back. Completely unrepentant and unashamed.

“It isn’t true.” The words limped out, wounded and lame. Willow’s hands trembled and she gripped the end of a pew to keep her balance.

“Do you think I’m a fool? I didn’t just take your sister’s word for it. I went to the cabin she described, and I found this.” Beatrice dug in her handbag and pulled out a handkerchief. “Are those not your initials?”

Her monogram, in palest green, screamed at her from the linen square. The handkerchief Willow had given to Alicia to mop her tears when Willow had come across Kenneth and Alicia in a cabin in the woods.

A gasp from the back of the room drew Willow’s attention. Alicia had her hand over her mouth.

To say how the handkerchief came to be at the cabin would be to betray the young couple. She couldn’t do that, not in front of the entire church. “Yes, that’s my handkerchief.”

“I knew it.”

Willow turned to Silas. “I’m so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

His dark eyes burned with questions, and her heart ripped in two. “It isn’t true. I won’t believe it.”

“Silas, I can’t marry you. Mrs. Drabble’s right. I’ve done terrible damage here today.” She’d come between Silas and his church, caused nothing but strife, dragged her sister’s vindictive wickedness into their midst, and shamed Silas in front of his friends and a visiting reverend. Snatching the handkerchief from Mrs. Drabble’s hand, Willow ran up the aisle and outside before the sobs wrenching her throat could come out.

Silas stood rooted to the spot for a moment before heading after her. Jesse’s hand restrained him, and it was all Silas could do not to shove the older man away.

“Son, we need to deal with this first, and then you can deal with that.” Jesse waved to Willow’s retreating form.

Silas quivered, whether from shock, anger, or both, he didn’t know. The force of his feelings startled him. He hadn’t felt so primitive since slugging Philip Moncrieff.

Francine gathered herself to leave, and this time Silas did shake off Jesse’s hand. He sprinted up the aisle and closed the doors. “Nobody leaves, especially not you, Francine.”

She slunk back to her seat.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, lying like that about your own sister.”

Clamping her lips shut, Francine stared back at him from under insolent lashes.

Mrs. Drabble propped her fists on her hips. “What more proof do you need that she didn’t lie? That handkerchief proves Willow was in that cabin, and you heard her yourself. She confessed.”

Silas’s father rose from the back pew. In all the uproar, Silas had forgotten his father’s presence. “Son, I’ll guard the doors. I believe your place is up front.”

Though his father’s eyes couldn’t exactly be called kindly, there was a fair bit of staunch support gleaming there. Silas nodded and strode to the front of the church praying with every step God would give him the right words to say. And that He would watch over Willow until Silas could get to her.

“Mrs. Drabble, please take your seat.” Silas leaned against the rail and crossed his arms. “As your pastor, it breaks my heart to see the manner in which this—I suppose it amounts to a disciplinary hearing—has been conducted. Rather than you, Mrs. Drabble, going to Willow to ask if these accusations were true, or even taking one or two other believers with you to ask, you’ve chosen a public venue, hoping to shame Willow in front of as many people as possible.”

He glanced from face to face. “Do you know the purpose of church discipline? It’s provided to us as a means of reconciling a brother or sister, not as a weapon to wield against those we don’t like. Whatever your accusations against Willow, choosing to expose them here was wrong of you. You weren’t seeking a reconciliation or restoration to fellowship. Your motives weren’t nearly as pure as that. What was it? Revenge for my not marrying Alicia? Pride in the power you wield over your husband and those you tyrannize? Or just frustration that you couldn’t manipulate me the way you wanted?”

Mrs. Drabble gaped and blinked.

“Whatever your motivations, it stops now. You say you have proof Willow was meeting a man in the woods? Because you have her handkerchief?” He shook his head. “Paltry proof at best. Maybe she dropped it on one of her rambles along the stream. Maybe someone else took it and put it there.” He stared hard at Francine. “However it got there, I know for certain Willow didn’t leave it behind after dallying with a man in that cabin.”

“How do you know?” Larry Horton, who had been silent until now, stood up behind Beatrice Drabble.

“Because I know Willow. I know her character.”

“That’s not good enough.”

Alicia rose from her place beside Kenneth. “Stop it. All of you.”

“Alicia!” Beatrice choked on her daughter’s name. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m stopping this terrible farce from continuing. Willow wasn’t meeting a lover in that cabin.”

“Alicia,” Silas said, “you don’t have to do this.”

Kenneth stood and took her hand. “Yes, we both do. We can’t let Willow be attacked like this and not try to help her.” He squared his shoulders and faced the congregation and his mother-in-law. “Mrs. Drabble, it wasn’t Willow. It was Alicia meeting me. Because you forbid me to court her, we met in the woods at a cabin. Willow found us there. She told us we had to come clean, but we were afraid you’d send Alicia away.”

Alicia bit her lip and blinked rapidly, but she kept her chin up.

Kenneth slipped his arm around her waist. “We owe the congregation an apology, and we ask for your forgiveness. It was wrong of us to sneak off together, and we’ve done everything we can to make it right. Pastor Hamilton married us Friday evening.”

Beatrice Drabble crumpled and covered her face with her hands. “How could you do this to me?”

Silas nodded to Kenneth, who sat, drawing Alicia down with him. Every eye in the room focused on Silas. His father stood with his shoulders against the doors and his arms crossed.

Silas took a fortifying breath. “Folks, it’s plain some of you have been given some wrong information about my fiancée, Willow. I’m asking you to please get to know her before you make up your minds about what kind of a woman she is. I’m also asking you to trust my judgment in this matter. I would never court a woman I thought wouldn’t be an asset to me, because God has placed His calling on my life to be a pastor. The truth is I don’t know how much longer I will be your minister here.” He indicated the front row. “The Reverend Sash is here to evaluate my performance as your shepherd, and I fear after today, he might feel the church would be better off with another leader.”

A murmur went through the congregation, but Silas ignored it. “The truth is I’m far from perfect. I’ve made mistakes, but Willow isn’t one of them. Oh, and while I have your attention, and because I don’t want any more rumors running rampant, I should explain my black eye. I got it defending Willow from the unwanted attentions of another man.” He flexed his sore fist and smiled ruefully. “Though I don’t advocate violence, there are times when it is the only means available.”

Philip Moncrieff shifted in his seat as several of his cast members leaned forward to gauge his reaction.

“Now, I’m going to leave you all in the capable hands of the board. Jesse and Ned and Larry and Walter will be meeting with Reverend Sash, and I imagine my father, Dr. Hamilton”—Silas indicated his father in the back—“who is in attendance today. But before I go, I want you to know I bear no malice toward anyone here. I ask that you move forward in a way that would make reconciliation possible with restoration as your goal. I ask that you accept apologies that are given and extend forgiveness to one another. And if you, as a church, or as a board, or as the denomination officers, decide this church would be better off with another pastor, I submit to that decision. But you all need to know that if you want me as your pastor, you will accept, welcome, and honor Willow as my wife.”

Jesse rose and held out his hand, shaking Silas’s firmly. “Go after her. We’ll take care of things here, and I’ll come and find you when we’re done.”

Silas headed out of the church. Jesse’s voice followed him, excusing the visitors.

His father clapped him on the shoulder as he hurried by. “We’ll talk later, son.”

Not stopping, he flicked his hand to let his father know he’d heard him. He had one destination in mind, and he found her exactly where he expected.

Willow huddled on the rock by the stream, hugging her shins and resting her forehead on her knees. She’d ruined everything. In the space of a single spring, she’d started an earthquake in a church, fractured the acting company, thrown away her future—not once, but twice—and managed to disgrace the man she loved more than anything in the world in front of his congregation.

Her sister’s betrayal and the accusations and rumors Mrs. Drabble had flung at Willow in front of the congregation shamed her to the core. How did one combat such lies? She had no defense that wouldn’t betray Kenneth and Alicia. The rancor in the church proved she would never be accepted here, that she’d done irreparable damage to Silas.

Too distraught to cry, she could only rock, hugging the ache to herself, sending out wordless prayers, begging God to understand what she was too wounded to say.

Footfalls dislodged pebbles on the path behind her, and she lifted her face. If only whoever it was would pass by and leave her alone.

“I knew I’d find you here.”

Silas
. She spun around, almost losing her balance and scrabbling to stand.

“Easy there. Seems I’m always about knocking you into the drink.” He hopped down the last bit of bank and grasped her elbows.

Standing on the rock with him on the dirt, their eyes were level. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to find my fiancée. She left the church in a hurry.”

“I didn’t know what else to do. Between Francine and Mrs. Drabble…They lied, but I couldn’t refute the lie without betraying someone else.”

“I know they lied, sweetheart. And I’m sorry. I wish I’d known what they were up to so I could’ve spared you that.”

Her chin dropped. “I’m the one who is sorry, Silas. And I understand, I really do. Breaking the engagement is the only logical choice. I won’t make any more trouble. I promise.” Her heart shattered like a cracker under a boot heel.

Silas tugged her off the rock and into his arms. He forced her head against his chest and rested his chin on her hair, squeezing her tight. “I imagine you’re going to cause me all kinds of trouble, but I’ll have you know I’m asking nothing more of life from this day onward.”

She tried to ease back to look at his face, but he hugged her tighter. “Don’t say anything until I tell you a few things.”

The comfort of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart against her cheek, and the peace of the stream and forest glade wrapped around her. How she was going to miss this.

“First, I know all about Kenneth and Alicia, and now so does the entire church. They stood up in front of everyone and confessed their sin and announced their marriage. They cleared you of any suspicion.”

“They’re married?” She pulled back to look into his eyes, and he allowed it for a moment before tucking her head back under his chin.

“Yes. I performed the ceremony night before last and told Mrs. Drabble about it yesterday morning.”

“She must’ve been furious with you. As angry as Francine was with me about refusing to take her to New York.”

He brushed a kiss across the top of her head. “And together they concocted a story to rip us apart.”

“And it worked. Silas, we have to break the engagement. Even though the lie has been exposed, the church is still fractured. I can’t come between you and your church, between you and your calling.” Willow edged out of his arms and stepped back.

“I’m not letting you go, Willow. Whether we stay here or go to another church is in the hands of God and the congregation, but wherever I go, you’re going with me as my wife.” His dark eyes had a flinty look.

“But you love this church. I don’t want to be the cause of you having to leave.”