Promises Reveal (28 page)

“I’m not paying for a goddamn divorce.”

“Now, this is where you get to think of today as your lucky day. Herschel’s going to do it for free.”

Herschel, on his feet like everyone else, gasped. “A divorce is complicated. It could take years.”

Clearly he was thinking of the cost. Brad didn’t take his attention from Bull. “That’s why I wouldn’t trust anyone but you to oversee it, Herschel. Can’t be too careful when it comes to the law. We certainly wouldn’t trust one of our own to an outsider.”

“No, we wouldn’t,” Millicent chimed in. “We don’t need no snake oil salesman posing as a lawyer taking advantage of Erica. If Herschel does this, we know it will be done right.”

The congregation stirred with approval.

“Darn straight.”

“Herschel knows his law.”

“Learned it back East at that fancy school.”

“Don’t have no idea what he’s saying when he goes to talking all legal, but it sure is impressive to listen to,” Jerome tossed in.

“So how about it, Herschel?” Brad asked, the strain of holding Bull telling in his voice. “You going to help the Braegers out?”

Herschel, looking a little dazed by the outpouring of confidence from the community that normally took him for granted, nodded to Erica. “It’d be my privilege.”

The woman, looking just as dazed, whispered a “thank you.” Evie couldn’t blame her. It had been a rather rapid, not to mention violent, switch in her situation.

“Well, now that that’s settled, why don’t Clint and I escort Bull to your office, Herschel?” Cougar offered, heading over. “You can meet us when the Rev finishes up his preaching for the day.”

“Shoot,” a wrangler interjected, settling back against the wall with an aura of anticipation. “The Rev’s got more up his sleeve?”

“It would appear so,” one of his friends said when Brad nodded and stepped back as Clint and Cougar converged on Bull. “Though I think it’s going to be hard to top this.”

Asa let go of the candelabra and settled his hat on his head. “I’ll keep an eye on the Braeger women while they get settled.”

Brad looked over, saw Evie with her makeshift weapon, and shook his head as Cougar and Clint, none too gently, shoved Bull toward the door.

“I’d appreciate it.”

“I could just shoot him,” Elizabeth offered. Evie saw she had a small derringer in her hand. Asa glanced over his shoulder at Elizabeth as he passed Brad. “Not today, darlin’.”

“It would save everyone a lot of trouble.”

Unfazed by the sight of his wife brandishing a gun in church, Asa smiled. “That it would but seeing as it’s bad luck to murder a man on Sunday, we might want to do this the Rev’s way.”

Brad took the candelabra from Evie. “Maybe next time, Elizabeth.”

“Heck, let her shoot him, Rev.”

The smile Brad gave Evie as he set the candelabra aside was incredibly soft. “We don’t need bad luck chasing us, Cyrus.”

Brad slid his arm around her waist, his touch as soft as his smile. The church and the congregation faded away. There was nothing but his eyes and the tender way he was looking at her. “This isn’t where I left you.”

“I thought you might need help.”

“I’d rather you’d stayed where I left you.”

Pressing her hands into her stomach, she tried to still her shaking. “I would rather you didn’t try to commit suicide by attacking men as big as mountains.”

He escorted her back to the front of the church, continuing as if she hadn’t interrupted, “So I don’t have to worry about you.”

There was blood on his face, his suit was torn, and there was no telling how much damage Bull had done during the scuffle, and he was worried about her? Evie placed her arm around his waist, wincing as a cramp bit into her abdomen, supporting him the best she could.

He must have felt her flinch. “You still hurting?”

“I’m fine.”

His fingers rubbed her waist.

“I told you to stay home.”

She surreptitiously checked his chest, his ribs, looking for signs of pain. Unlike her, he didn’t flinch under her probing.

“And miss all the excitement?”

He stopped at her seat, watching her with concern as she sat. She gave him her best smile. All she got back was a frown. In a now familiar gesture, he ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek.

“Well, it’s not done yet.”

“You’ve got more of the same?”

“Yeah, so why are you smiling?”

“Because I think what you said before was pretty wonderful.”

His thumb pressed at the corner of her mouth, as tender as a kiss. “You realize it means I’m likely out of a job.”

“Who cares?”

“You are one strange woman.”

“Good thing you like strange.”

He didn’t respond for a second, then, “Yeah, it is.”

With another brush of his thumb, he turned and stepped up to the pulpit.

“Sorry about the disturbance, folks.”

“You planning on putting on a show like this every Sunday, Rev?”

Brad honestly didn’t know. All he knew was that the rage that had been building for as long as he could remember—the rage that had gotten worse and worse since he’d been a kid, swallowing his father’s curses like they were gospel, growing with every injustice—had this morning with Erica’s desperate plea for help just reached . . . enough. “It depends.”

“On what?” Dorothy asked.

“On whether we’re going to stand up as a town and do what’s right.”

“You can’t change the world.”

“This might make me as selfish as everyone else, but I don’t care about the world. I’m just concerned with what’s happening here and now. In Cattle Crossing.” He slapped the pulpit. “Here, I want change.”

“What kind of change?” Ruth asked.

“I’m tired of watching our weakest citizens get hurt.”

“The law ties our hands.”

“I’m willing to chance a run-in with the sheriff if it means a little girl not getting her arm broken.”

“Well, all I got to say is, it’s about time this town had a man with balls enough to take a stand.”

“Ruth!”

“Oh, hush up, Shirley. There are times when the Lord understands the need for a good curse word, right, Reverend?”

“I’m not sure I’m in his good graces right now.”

“You’re closer than our last Preacher ever got.” Ruth stomped her cane. “Worse thing that ever happened to this territory was the arrival of the law. Back in my day, a man took to beating his wife and kids, family took care of it, and failing that, the community took care of it. Now, everyone sits on their hands, claiming they’re tied. It’s a disgrace and a shame.”

“You’ve got to have law,” Homer cut in.

“Maybe, and maybe not, but I’m with the Reverend. When the law doesn’t help, we’ve got to help ourselves.”

“Sounds dangerously like vigilantism to me.”

“You going to sit here, Dan, and tell me you think it’s right for a man to break a little girl’s arm and feel safe doing it while decent folk just sit about and listen to her screams?”

“Heck no.”

The cane hit the floor again. “Then shut up and let Reverend Swanson speak.”

There didn’t seem much for Brad to do but go along.

“Thanks, Ruth.”

“Glad to be of help.”

Doc leaned over the pew and helped the older woman sit. When she was settled, everyone just stared at Brad, expecting him to lead them. Really lead them, not just meddle here or there. He only knew one way to do it. And it wasn’t going to be popular.

A small black-clad figure stepped out from the alcove in back. And about to get even more unpopular.
Nidia.
The woman was determined to be the bane of his existence. She lowered the mantilla covering her hair to her shoulders. “This protection for the weak, does it extend to all citizens? Even prostitutes?”

As he’d thought, she was forcing his hand. Pews creaked as the congregation turned from Nidia to look at him.

“Not now, Nidia.”

“I’d like to hear the answer to that,” Mara called.

“So would I,” Shirley chimed in.

Mara would be in favor but Shirley was the other side of the coin. She had strict views on what was proper. And as the mayor’s wife, she had the influence to enforce those views.

“I hadn’t planned on getting into this so soon, but . . .”

“But what?” Jerome groused. Brad didn’t fool himself that it was because he cared about the subject matter. It was more likely that his stomach was telling him it was getting on toward lunch. “Just spit it out. Ain’t like Shirley’s going to like it none the better for the delay.”

Evie wasn’t going to like it either. “Yes.”

“You’re not planning on driving off business, are you, Rev?” called Mark.

Brad waited for a lull in the commotion and then went for broke. It wasn’t like it mattered. Once the truth was out, he’d be out, but in the interim maybe he could plant some good.

“No, but those that want out, should have a way out, whether it’s from a bad marriage or a bad life.”

“And we have to provide it?”

Brad met Red’s gaze squarely. “Yes.”

“Hell, Rev, once a whore, always a whore.”

“And once an ass, always an ass,” Mara shot back.

Brad held his temper. “I doubt there’s one of us here who hasn’t been forced by circumstance to do what we didn’t like to survive at one time or another. Options are just fewer for women.”

Jenna’s “amen” was heartfelt.

The rumbling didn’t cease. He didn’t expect it to. His terms were pretty radical by anyone’s measure.

Brad raised his voce to be heard above the ruckus, keeping his eye on Evie. He couldn’t tell if the white line around her lips was from pain or anger. “You might as well know up front that I feel strongly about this, but I also understand your hesitation. I realize my stand on this may necessitate your requesting another minister.”

“This is a lot to spring on us willy-nilly,” Doc interjected.

Brad nodded. “I realize that, too. You can give me your decision in a month.”

“And until then?” Shirley asked, stopping him before he could descend.

“We can either go on as we have or you can make do without.”

“Hell, preacher, that ain’t rightly fair, giving ultimatums.”

“Life isn’t fair, Dan. Now if you’ll excuse me, my wife is feeling poorly, and I’d like to get her home.”

He made it halfway around the pulpit before Gray stood, his dark face intent. “The McKinnelys do not need time.”

Shit. The first time Gray stood as a McKinnely and it had to be over this, backing him. “Still, you might want to take it,” he cautioned.

Gray’s shoulders squared, his chin leveled. “I do not need time.”

Probably not. Gray’s real mother had been beaten to death by an insane customer. The same man who’d later kidnapped Jenna and Mara.

“Your words are good. The McKinnelys stand with the Reverend Swanson.”

“A wet-behind-the-ears boy doesn’t talk for the McKinnelys,” Dan sneered. Evie came to Brad’s side. He glanced down as her hand slipped into his, small and warm. She gave his fingers a comforting squeeze.

“Did you forget what happened the last time you denied Gray his standing?” she asked.

Clint had kicked the shit out of the man because of Gray but also because of the boot print on Jenna’s shoulder.

“I haven’t forgotten anything.”

Jenna, patting a fussing Brianna, stood beside Gray, pride in her gaze as she turned and swept it across the congregation. “You heard my son.”

Mara stood, too, though it was hard to tell. The woman had sure been shortchanged on height, but she repeated Gray’s claim. “The McKinnelys stand with the Reverend.”

“Well, I for one don’t appreciate being railroaded. I have a daughter to consider.”

Evie bristled. Brad squeezed her hand, warning her to be quiet. “I understand, Shirley, and I’d be the last one ever to want her to be in a position of no choice, so you take your time.” He nodded to Millicent. “Can Erica and the girls stay with you?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thank you.”

As he passed the McKinnelys’ pew, Brad stopped. “That’s quite a son you and Clint have there, Jenna.”

She smiled, ruffling Gray’s hair with the love of a mother who didn’t take into consideration the boy’s fragile sense of consequence. He ducked away, but his scowl wasn’t nearly as dark as normal. “We’re so lucky he chose us.”

Truth was, Gray hadn’t stood a chance once Jenna had decided to love him, but that was Jenna. Always loving without condition, always giving. Clint’s sunshine. Gray’s and Brianna’s salvation.

Evie smiled. “He’s definitely done you proud today.”

Brad was probably the only one who heard the tightness of pain in her voice.

“Yes, he has. And your husband has done us all proud.”

Evie’s hand squeezed his. “Yes, he has.”

The praise sat uncomfortably on Brad’s shoulders. He was an outlaw. Fighting came as naturally as breathing. It wasn’t anything special. When he met Jenna’s gaze, he grew even more uncomfortable. There was knowledge in her big blue eyes.
Damn. Clint wouldn’t have told her
. . .

“It’s not every town that’s fortunate to get a man with the Reverend Brad’s experience.”

“We can’t afford to lose him,” Jenna continued, not letting go of his gaze.

They couldn’t afford to keep him. If she knew who he was, Jenna had to know that, too. As if the truth didn’t matter, Jenna continued, “And I for one, intent to do everything in my power to make sure he stays.”

“Sometimes a man doesn’t have a choice.”

“And sometimes he does.”

She was spinning fairy tales, but there was no arguing with Jenna when she got her mind set. “Thank you for the vote of confidence.”

Jenna nodded as if she wasn’t holding him to an impossible goal.