The Preacher's Bride Claim. Laurie Kingery
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“But this family, the Chaucers, make that impossible,” she concluded for him. “Elijah, I—I’m sorry.”
How much they had in common, she thought, though it wouldn’t be wise to share her past with him. Both of them were trying to evade people who wished them ill—though Maxwell Peterson, she thought, with the same bitterness Elijah had voiced, insisted he only wanted to share his prosperous future with her.
Elijah met her gaze. “Thank you, Miss Alice,” he said. “I’m only sorry I have to trouble you with it, but I thought, in case you heard anything more, you should be aware of what happened. We need say no more about it.”
Keith Gilbert was sitting up on a camp chair with his wife when Alice and Elijah reached their campsite.
“I’ve been behavin’, Nurse,” he announced cheerfully, “though it’s been infernal hard to watch my wife doin’ all the work. Missed comin’ to chapel this mornin’, too, Reverend.”
“I’ll be glad when you’re able to return, Keith, for I surely can’t lead the singing the way you do,” Elijah assured him, “but don’t let me see you there till Miss Alice gives you the go-ahead.”
Alice saw her patient and his wife exchange a wink. Were they reading something into the fact that Elijah called her “Miss Alice” instead of “Miss Hawthorne”? Flustered, she focused on removing the old dressing. She could hardly correct their impression if they didn’t voice it.
She found the wound was continuing to heal well, and his wife reported there’d been no recurrence of fever. Thank God. Alice quickly redressed the wound and bid them good-night.
* * *
After Elijah returned to the Thornton tent, he found his brothers preparing to retire. “I didn’t want to ask in front of Miss Alice, but what do either of you know about these ‘Security Patrol’ officers riding around Boomer Town, proud as peacocks? One of them was the fellow who was trying to talk Miss Alice into buying that expensive Thoroughbred, but when I came upon him, there were three others.”
“I heard they’re former Confederate cavalry officers who’ve been allowed to rejoin the army,” Gideon said. “Why?”
Elijah sat on the edge of his camp bed, rubbing his chin with his thumb and index finger. “Because it struck me that they all look to be in their forties or so, yet they’re just privates.”
“The word is that there were so many of ’em wanting to get back in the army after Reconstruction,” Clint said, “that the federal government was afraid they’d take over and the war would start all over again. So they stripped them of their ranks before they’d let them rejoin.”
“I see.” Leave it to Clint to always have his ear to the ground, Elijah thought.
“What’s your interest in this, Lije?” Gideon asked, stretching his long legs out on his extralong cot. “Is it because that fellow was pressuring Miss Alice?”
“Yes, partly,” Elijah began, feeling the protective streak rise up in him again as he’d felt when he had seen the way that ginger-haired fellow had looked at her earlier. “I didn’t like the look in his eyes. I don’t think she was quite aware of it, though she assures me that she’s used to holding her own among pushy doctors and the like, but I’m not sure she’s as worldly-wise as she makes out. And it got me thinking of how I’d seen these fellows talking to folks around Boomer Town. They were always with women on their own or foreign immigrants.”
“Wouldn’t hurt to keep our eye on these fellows,” Clint said. “Anyone who looks crosswise at our Miss Alice will have all of us to tangle with.”
“Agreed,” murmured Gideon as he blew out the lamp.
Elijah’s last waking thoughts were thankful ones. He was glad that his brothers were willing to help him watch out for Alice Hawthorne. He was blessed to have two solid, decent brothers who believed in protecting folks like Alice against those who would take advantage of them. Surely those character traits meant that, in time, they would return to the faith they’d been taught at their father’s knee.
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