Conrad, Kelly - Rogue Preacher (Siren Publishing Ménage and More ManLove) (15 page)

“Well…anyway…Sunset has decided not to press charges against you.”

Vince turned back around. “So he sent you. Look, I thought all I had to do was turn myself in and that would be the end of it. Now, I find out that Sunset has to be dragged into this.” He grabbed the bars of the cell. “I didn’t know they’d contact him. You have to tell him that.”

“I told Sunset I’d do as much as I could, so let me go and talk to the sheriff and see what has to be done.”

Lakota opened the door and walked into the office. As he was putting on his guns, he said to the sheriff, “Sunset has decided not to press charges against Vince Michaels.”

The sheriff looked up, surprised. “He ain’t gonna press charges? Why?”

“He told me he wasn’t sure it was Vince that killed his wife. From what he says, there were five of them there, and they were all shooting at once.”

“He told me back when I arrested him for the first time that Vince did it. Now, he’s sayin’ he ain’t sure?”

“I’m sorry, but that’s what he said.”

“That damned preacher,” the sheriff muttered. “I hate preachers. You can’t depend on one thing they say. They’re so damned wishy-washy—”

Just then the door slammed open and the broad, muscled frame of Sunset Carson stood there. “What was that you were sayin’ about wishy-washy preachers?”

Suddenly, the sheriff was speechless. Before him stood a wild, frontier preacher as big as a mountain and as mean as a wild cat. “I said…” His words stopped suddenly. “Never mind what I said. I hear you ain’t gonna press charges against Vince. May I ask why?”

“He didn’t kill my wife. One of the other men did, and they’re dead.”

The sheriff snorted. “Dead, huh? That’s convenient.”

Sunset began walking toward the sheriff, his hands on his guns. “I don’t like your attitude, sheriff. Maybe I should let you see just how ‘wishy-washy’ I can be.”

“Look, I ain’t askin’ for no trouble here. You want Vince, you can have him.” He turned quickly and hurried to his cell and let him out.

“Sunset!” Vince cried out when he saw him. “What the hell are you doin’ here?”

Sunset didn’t crack a smile. Instead, he said, “Never mind about me, what the hell are you doin’ here? I wake up one mornin’, you’re gone, and I find out you’re here turnin’ yourself in. What the hell are you thinkin’?”

“Hell, I don’t know. It’s this Christianity thing. It makes you do strange things. I already been feelin’ guilty about my language. One of these days I won’t be able to say things like, damn, hell, or even fu…” His words stopped suddenly, and he looked down, embarrassed. “Shoot! It’s already started!” He turned to Sunset. “It’s your fault, you know.”

“Why is it my fault?”

“You’re a preacher, ain’t you?”

“All right, I’ll take the blame this time, but no more doin’ anything that you don’t talk over with me first.”

“Okay.”

“Now, where’s Chick?”

“Out at the hideout, I guess.”

“I have to get back, but you get Chick, and then all of you get your butts back to Belle Plain. Got it?”

“And then what, Sunset?”

Sunset shrugged. “We’ve got a revival to preach.”

Epilogue

While a banner bearing his name flapped in the wind, Sunset stood below it, watching the three cowboys that made their way toward him. When they rode up, he said, “Well, it looks like our little troupe has grown some.”

When Lakota dismounted, he tied his horse up to the hitching post and called out to Sunset as the others moved to go inside. “Sunset, before you go counting heads, I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah? What’s on your mind?”

“I think I’m gonna head on out to the reservation.”

“But why? I thought you were okay bein’ here.”

“I don’t know. This travelin’ to one town and then another…” He shook his head.

“That ain’t it, and you know it. Why not tell me what’s really on your mind?”

“What about Vince and Chick? Are they okay with me bein’ here?”

“Vince and Chick? Yeah, I think you’ll get along fine.” He turned and saw Vince. “Hey, Vince, you and Chick come on over here for a minute. I need to talk to you. When they stood before him, he said, “You boys know that Lakota’s gonna be one of us, don’t you?”

They both looked over at Lakota. “I hadn’t thought about it, but I guess it’s okay,” Vince said.

Sunset looked at Chick. “Chick?”

Chick gave a slight shrug. “Sure. It’s okay with me.”

Sunset lifted his arms and draped them around Vince and Lakota’s shoulders, bringing their circle in a little tighter. “We’re together now,” he said, “and I want us to stay together. The truth is, I don’t think I could do without any of you, so any problems, we work ’em out between us. No more of that stupid jealousy, okay? I know of nothin’ that’s more damagin’ to a relationship than that. I just want you to know that I love the hell out of all of you, and I hope you love me.”

“Hell, Sunset, you know the answer to that,” Chick said.

“Maybe I do, and maybe I don’t.”

“What about it guys?” Vince said. “Do we love this Bible-thumpin’, holy rollin’ preacher here?”

They all laughed and said in unison, “Amen!”

Sunset slapped Lakota on the back. “Now that you’re officially a member of our troupe, get in there and get to work.”

“He’s a real slave driver,” Vince said to Lakota as he led him off.

Sunset smiled and then turned to go back to his tent to get prepared for tonight.

The moment Sunset walked into his tent, he knew something was different and stopped dead still. The tent seemed to be filled with some kind of presence, and a chill danced up his spine. Suddenly, he heard—no, he didn’t
hear
it. The words that came seemed to be carved upon his understanding.

Tell the people.

He looked around. “Is someone here?”

Tell the people.

“Tell them? Tell them what?”

Like a flood, suddenly the message was all over him, all through him, filling his brain, his heart, and every part of his being. He knew. God was in the room, and he couldn’t play dumb with God. He knew what God was saying, and what was worse, God knew that he knew!

“I can’t do it, God,” he whispered as he wilted down to his knees. “I can’t! I’ll be cuttin’ my own throat, damn it! I’ll never be able to preach another sermon!”

Tell the people.

Sunset agonized. When had he ever refused God anything? Never! But this was too much! Too much! God was asking him—no
telling
him to go out there and confess his sin to the world.

“No!” he shouted.

Tell the people!

“I won’t be able to preach if I do!” he shouted up to God.

Tell the people!

He reached up and put his hands over his ears as if that would somehow keep God’s voice out.

TELL THE PEOPLE!

Was it his imagination, or did God’s voice get louder? He knew without a doubt that God meant business, and thought about his sermon. It was a good sermon. Many could be saved if they heard it! But he knew he’d never be able to deliver it. The people wouldn’t listen. They’d hiss and shout, and run him out of town! He lowered his face in his hands and cried, knowing it was God’s will, and he couldn’t go against it. Finally, lifting his tearstained face upward, he whispered, “Why would you want me to do this? Why would you want to ruin me? Why…” Suddenly, realizing there was no way he could say no to God, the tears he shed came out like a flood, his words dying on his lips.

His surrender to God was complete.

After getting himself together, he rose from his crouch. He said nothing to the others about his experience, but when the music began and it was time for him to go out, he hesitated.

Finally, after several stops and starts, Vince found him. “Sunset, it’s time. What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“No,” he said, and immediately began smoothing his hair, straightening his string tie, and adjusting his clothes. “I…I’m fine.”

As a million things went through his mind, he reached out, pulled the curtain aside, and stepped out. He walked up to the edge of the platform, took his place behind the podium, and stood there for a moment knowing that this was the most bizarre entrance he would ever make. He might not have come out with a whoop and a holler, but nothing in the past or future would ever equal it. Finally lifting his head, his gaze studied many. The young, the old, the sinner, and the saint. He could almost hear their gasps, their mumbles, and their jeers. He had already been forgiven of many things through his ministry, but as he studied each face, he saw the lines hard work had made on their faces, the gaunt that hunger had brought, and didn’t think they looked like a very forgiving crowd.

Finally, he lifted his voice, and said, simply, “Ladies and gentlemen. I am a homosexual.”

Vince, Chick, and Lakota stood watching, their eyes wide and their mouths open in shock. No one expected this, and they, along with the rest of the congregation, watched and waited. Finally, the silence became filled with whispers, mumbles, several sharp intakes of air as the people turned to each other, their words so soft he could only imagine what they were saying.

Suddenly, a man stood. “You bastard!” he shouted. “You been standin’ up here night after night callin’ us sinners when you’re the one who’s the sinner!”

Another shouted, “You quack, you imposter!”

“We ought to take him out and tar and feather him!”

“Wait!” Corley Sims shouted as he stood up and looked around at the others. “What are you people doin’? You all know me. Bein’ the town doctor, I ain’t one to come around all that quick to miracles and things like that, but even I got to admit that this preacher man here has done some pretty amazin’ things. He’s performed miracles night after night. I know it was real because I knew the people. Even my Bessie got cured of the whooping cough when I couldn’t do a thing for her.” Doc Sims turned to Sunset. “Just tell me one thing, preacher, why would God work miracles through someone like you?”

“Doctor,” he began, and then looked toward the others. “All of you, please hear me now. The beautiful thing is God doesn’t require us to be perfect. No man is or ever will be perfect but Jesus. If God could only work through a perfect man, we would see no miracles. Do you think for one moment that Moses was perfect? Or the Disciples? They were men just like you and me, and yet God worked through them to perform miracles. Who knows for sure if one, or many of them, were homosexuals. Jesus knew, but did he turn His back on them? No. Even Judas, as evil and wicked as he was, followed Jesus and became one of his Disciples. Even steadfast Peter denied knowing Jesus right up until the eleventh hour because knowing Jesus would have meant death for him. They couldn’t help the way they felt, and Jesus knew that, but still He loved them. We each have our own preference of many things. Some men like women, some don’t. Some like beef, others like pork. Some men even drink too much. Many of you out there are guilty of that, I know. Don’t you see what I’m saying? It’s simply a matter of choice. I can’t help the way I feel, no more than any of you can.”

“So what are you going to do, preacher?”

“That depends on you. If you can’t accept me the way I am, then I’ll have to leave the ministry.”

The people slowly formed a group and talked among themselves, their mumbling voices rose, then lowered, until suddenly all was silenced. The speaker of the group turned and looked at Sunset. “Preacher,” he said, “we’ve decided to leave it in God’s hands. As you know, we’re in the middle of a drought. We need rain bad. Our crops are dryin’ up, and our cattle are dyin’. We’re askin’ you to pray to God to send rain. If God grants it, it’ll mean he accepts you the way you are, and we just know one more thing about you we didn’t before. But if he don’t, it’ll mean he’s turned his back on you.” The man looked back at the rest of them and saw them nodding their heads, and then he turned back to Sunset. “Is that fair? Is that all right with you? Will you do this for us?”

Without answering, Sunset lifted his face toward the sky and raised his hands to God. “Oh, God!” Sunset called out, the tears in his eyes coursing down his rugged face. “I come to You asking for rain for these…”

Before Sunset had the words out of his mouth, a loud clap of thunder sounded, followed by a sizzling bolt of lightning that lit up the dark sky. After several ear-splitting claps it suddenly became eerily quiet until the people heard the rain pelting against the tent.

Someone shouted, “It’s raining!”

Everyone jumped up and ran outside, their arms outstretched and their faces turned up to the refreshing rain.

While the people were rejoicing, Sunset jumped down off his platform, and along with Vince and Chick, he ran outside. While he was looking up at something that took his breath away, Lakota came up and stood with them. Sunset looked over at him, and said, “Remember when you asked me if there were any burning bushes in my life, Lakota?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

Sunset lifted his hands to the sky, indicating toward a big round moon that looked as if it were on fire. He heard Lakota gasp when he saw it and said in awe, “There it is, Lakota. There’s the thing I’ve been waiting for my whole religious life. My own personal burning bush!”