Marrying the Preacher's Daughter. Cheryl St.John
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“Perhaps. But I’m more interested in finding someone who needs capital to get a business started. I don’t want to work the business, so as long as it’s a sound principle. I’d be a silent partner. Meanwhile I’ll buy a few horses and try my hand at ranching.”
Gabe had Rhys’s attention now. The man sat forward, ignoring the dessert placed before him to focus on Gabe. “And you have the capital to fund a venture such as that?”
It was a rude question, akin to asking the man how much money he had, but Rhys was a banker, and she supposed it was his nature to question.
“That I do, Mr. Jackson.”
“Rhys. Call me Rhys.”
Chapter Six
Elisabeth set down the last dish in front of Abigail with a thud. Well, if that didn’t beat all. Her father had taken the man in, and between him and Josie they’d made certain Elisabeth saw to all his needs. Her little brothers thought he was a hero, Abigail and Kalli called him handsome, and now even Rhys had rallied around Gabe’s camp because Gabe had money to put in his bank. None of them had seen his antagonistic side or experienced his cutting tone.
He never had a civil word to say to her, but he was all smiles and compliments around everyone else.
“I’ve never tasted rice pudding this good,” he told Abigail, and she blushed to the pale blond roots of her hair. “In fact I don’t know when I’ve ever eaten so well. Reverend, your wife and daughters are excellent cooks.”
“That they are,” Sam replied with a proud grin.
Elisabeth rolled her eyes. Abigail noted it and frowned at her.
A knock sounded at the door, and this time Sam raised a hand to the others. “I’ll get this one.”
When he returned, he gave his wife’s shoulder an apologetic squeeze. “I’m needed at the Quinn place. Seems Ezra collapsed and the doc thinks it’s his heart.”
“Oh, my,” Josie said. “Well, we’ll pray for him right now. You hurry on.”
“Girls, you look after Josie tonight,” Sam said with a look at Abigail and Anna. And then he turned to Elisabeth. “I never know how these types of things will go, so if I shouldn’t get back in time, Elisabeth, please take our guest to see his land tomorrow. Take Phillip along if you need another hand.”
Her heart sank, but she nodded obediently. “Yes, sir.”
As soon as Sam was gone, Josie reached across the table for Beatrice’s hand and Gabe’s on her left. She closed her eyes.
Gabe hadn’t held a woman’s hand in a good long time, and never while the woman prayed, so Josie’s action caught him off guard. Decidedly uncomfortable, he waited to see what happened next.
“Elisabeth, please pray for Mr. Quinn,” she said, surprising him even more.
But Elisabeth didn’t hesitate. “Father God, we lift our friend Ezra Quinn to You and ask that You would touch him with Your healing hand. We believe Your Word that says Jesus took our infirmities and bore our sicknesses, so we thank You that Mr. Quinn is delivered and whole this night in Jesus’s name.”
“And we pray for Ezra’s boy, Lester,” Josie added. “Give him strength and comfort and provide for him from Your gracious bounty. Thank You, Lord,” Josie said and the others chorused their amens before she released Gabe’s hand.
Gabe didn’t set much store by their faith, and he sure didn’t think any prayer was going to make a difference if the man had already had a heart attack and his number was up.
They finished their dessert without their former enthusiasm, and Elisabeth and her sisters cleaned up the table. Josie ushered Sam and the Jacksons into a large sitting room. Sam’s ribs ached something fierce, but he remained seated on an overstuffed chair until Elisabeth finished her chores and joined them.
“Excuse me,” he said to the others. “I’m going to go upstairs and lie down.”
Beatrice and Rhys said their goodbyes, and he climbed the stairs, Elisabeth on his heels.
“Would you like your medicine?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I’ll just lie down.”
“Suit yourself.”
“You don’t have to take me anywhere tomorrow. I’m sure I can find a driver and a buggy.”
“If my father doesn’t return, I’ll accompany you,” she assured him. She lit the lamp on the bureau and turned down the covers on the bed. Picking up the empty pitcher, she headed for the door. “I’ll bring fresh water as soon as I’ve heated more.”
“Much obliged,” he said with a nod. Once she was gone, he eased onto the bed and closed his eyes. He didn’t like being indisposed, and he really didn’t like being indebted to the ungracious Elisabeth Hart. Even if she did have the prettiest eyes this side of the Rio Grande. It had been plain from the start that she didn’t want any part of him and was only seeing to his needs out of obedience to her father.
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