Brides of Idaho Read online

  Toby explained to Joanna about the man in the saloon. “Said he was a preacher.”

  “Bonners Ferry could use a preacher and a church, too,” Joanna said, slanting a pointed look at Glory.

  “He can preach his heart out. Won’t change me.”

  Joanna sighed. “You’re always so defensive. No one said anything about changing you. But comes a time in all of our lives when we have to stop running from life and simply learn to trust God with it.”

  “I trust God.”

  “Trusting covers a lot of things.”

  “I hate it when you get all philosophical. You got something to say, come right out and say it.”

  Joanna handed the bucket of vegetable peelings to Toby and waved him away. “All I’m saying is…” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Never mind. I suppose I mean for myself more than anyone else. Where are you off to?”

  Glory laughed. “Who said I am.”

  Joanna lifted one eyebrow in mocking amusement. “Let’s see. Could it be because you keep shifting from one foot to the other and glancing toward the door? Or maybe because I know you well enough I just know?”

  “Probably both. I want to check on those horses I have up the hill.”

  “You’ll be back for supper?”

  “Of course. And I’ll wash the dishes and sweep the floor and whatever else needs doing.”

  “Good. Then go see to your horses.”

  Glory reached for the door.

  “Glory.”

  Her sister’s voice stopped her.

  “Be careful. Some of those horses you rescue are mean.”

  “They have reason to be.” She too often saw horses neglected and abused. When she did, she tried to buy them from the owners and nurse them back to health, train them to be good mounts, and sell them to men who would treat them right. She’d keep them all if she could, but it wasn’t practical, and selling them provided her with funds to buy more to help.

  “I’m not saying they don’t. But you are up there alone. I worry.”

  “No need. I never take chances. You know that.”

  Another quirk of Joanna’s telltale eyebrow. “I certainly do.”

  Glory shook her head in bewilderment. Joanna seemed set on talking in riddles or raising questions she didn’t intend to answer. And Glory had no time for such nonsense. She left the stopping house, crossed to the shop where she ran a small farrier business and kept her current mount.

  The beautiful palomino was nothing but a bag of bones when she rescued him. The gelding now glistened with health and had turned out to be a smooth ride. It was one of the times she thought seriously of keeping an animal. Indeed, unless she was offered a good price, she wouldn’t let him go.

  She threw on a saddle and swung to the animal’s back. “Come on, Pal. Let’s go visit your friends.”

  In order to reach the place, she had to ride back through town. Past the saloon where the rawhide preacher had hitched his black horse. A beautiful horse. But the horse no longer waited patiently. The pair must have moved on. She tried to put them from her mind. But instead, the piercing gaze of the man seemed to glaze her thoughts to the exclusion of all else.

  Rawhide Kid.

  A desperado. A criminal. A confidence man.

  Not above using the Bible as a means of portraying the picture he wanted to create.

  Yet…

  She jerked her thoughts away from how he’d boldly walked into the saloon and opened the Holy Word. Course if Bull had been there, he might have gone out on his ear.

  As if her thoughts didn’t have enough trouble erasing him, she glimpsed a big black horse in the woods. Had to be the rawhide preacher man. What subversive thing was he up to? Perhaps he had partners in crime hiding, awaiting the chance to steal from the good citizens of Bonners Ferry.

  She pulled her own horse off the path and dismounted, hiding as best she could behind a patch of trees to watch.

  In a minute, he broke from the trees and sauntered up the trail.

  She let him pass, then, keeping to the leaf-protected ground at the edge of the trail, followed at a safe distance behind him.

  He turned in at the shack where Widow Kish lived, swung off the horse without touching the saddle horn, and landed neatly on his feet. He reached behind him and lifted off two dressed birds and carried them inside.

  She squatted in the dappled shadows and waited. If he had harmed the widow and taken possession of her shack… well, he would have to answer to her. The smell of woodsmoke drew her attention to the battered piece of stovepipe poking through the roof. Smoke billowed upward. She waited.

  Then the door sqawked open and he stepped out into the sun. Bareheaded, his hat in his hand, the sun glistening in his hair.

  “I can’t thank you enough.” The widow patted his hand.

  “My pleasure.” He jammed his hat on, swung into the saddle in one swift movement, and reined toward town.

  Glory remained where she was, watching until he rode down the hill and out of sight. Still she didn’t move. What was he doing? Was he playing some kind of game intended to make everyone trust him?

  He’d soon learn Glory Hamilton didn’t trust so easily.

  She pushed to her feet, pulled Pal back to the path, and got on his back with a lot less grace and ease than the preacher did. The fact did nothing to ease her suspicions.

  A few minutes later she arrived at the temporary corrals she’d built for her horses, and her mood immediately improved. Animals were so uncomplicated. Treat them right and they rewarded with loyalty. Most wanted to please, and those that didn’t learned the joys of obeying given enough patience and kindness. She knew how to give plenty of both.

  One big gray gelding snorted and reared away as soon as she approached. He would take a long time to realize she meant him no harm. But at least his wounds had healed nicely.

  “Don’t worry, big guy. I’m not going to rush you.” She threw handfuls of oats from her saddlebag to each of the horses. Big Gray wouldn’t go near his treat until she backed away, but every day she gained ground. “Won’t be long until you’re eating out of my hand.” He didn’t snort and act up at her voice anymore.

  She spent the better part of the afternoon with the animals. This place was perfect. Close enough to town she could tend the horses each day. High enough to not suffer from the spring floods. There were lots of trees, a stream that ran throughout the summer, open sunny patches of grass, and a view that filled her with pleasure. Too bad she didn’t own it. But no one had objected to her using it, and until someone did… She hoped when the time came she would be able to buy this bit of land.

  It was time to leave unless she wanted Joanna to send some young buck in search of her. Joanna had done it before. She’d do it again. She took her role as eldest sister seriously.

  Glory caught up to Pal, threw the saddle on again, and rode back to the stopping house. Basins of water and towels were set out in the lean-to entryway, and Glory stopped to wash off the smell of horse as best she could.

  A rumble of voices came from the long dining room. Sounded like a full house. They usually served about twenty travelers and a handful of regulars. Which meant lots of dishes to wash. There’d be no getting out of it today. She’d already promised Joanna. Besides, it was the least Glory could do. Joanna did the bulk of the work, never complaining. Mandy spent long hours out in the woods keeping the place supplied with fresh meat. Glory had to contribute in some way, even if it was drudge work like washing dishes and cleaning floors.

  She dried her hands and swiped them over her hair making sure it was relatively free of grass then stepped into the noisy room, giving a quick glance around to see who was in attendance. Her gaze skidded to a halt at the man sitting at the far corner of the table. Levi Powers.

  His eyes met hers across the distance, and at the way they narrowed, she knew he was as surprised to see her as she was to see him. And she felt a silent challenge as his gaze swept over her dungarees and back to her face,
checking her hair.

  She clenched her fists at her sides to keep from brushing her hands over her hair again. Nothing he did would make her ashamed or embarassed about who she was and how she chose to dress. Nothing he did or said would make her change.

  Nothing.

  She spun away and marched into the kitchen, her boots ringing with more force than normal. She grabbed two heaping bowls from the service table. “What’s he doing here?” Her voice was harsh, accusing, as if it was Joanna’s fault.

  Joanna chuckled. “You’ll have to be more specific. At my count there are twenty-one men in there.”

  “The preacher. Why is he here?”

  Joanna lifted one shoulder dismissively. “Because he paid me to eat here. Isn’t that what we do? Feed people who pay?”

  Glory choked back her protest. Yes, it was what they did. The few dollars that were her share of the profit filled a tin can. Slowly. Someday it would be enough to buy her precious piece of land. “Of course it’s what we do.”

  She carried the bowls into the dining room, put them down, and chose a spot on the long bench at the far corner of the room from Mr. Powers. She spared him the briefest glare. Let him think what he wanted of her. If he even thought of her.

  Joanna took her place at the end of the table, close to Powers. Mandy found room on a crowded bench next to Toby. Joanna signaled quiet. “We are a Christian family and always say a blessing before the meal.”

  Glory allowed herself a flicker of her eyes toward Powers and was pleased to see his surprise. Just goes to show you can’t judge people, she silently crowed.

  Joanna continued. “Today we have a special guest at the table. Mr. Powers. Preacher Powers. He’s going to start services here in Bonners Ferry. Now I know most of you won’t be here past the night, but for those of you who are, I’m sure you’re as happy as I that we’re going to have a church.”

  Glory kept her gaze glued to the tin plate in front of her. She wasn’t pleased at all. Besides, who—other than himself—said he was a preacher? Rawhide Kid for all they knew.

  Joanna was still speaking. “Mr. Powers, we’d be pleased if you’d ask the blessing tonight.” She lifted a hand toward him in invitation.

  Powers pushed to his feet and looked at each one around the table.

  Glory refused to meet his glance. She demanded a whole lot more than his say-so to believe he was a preacher and nothing more, nothing less.

  Chapter 2

  Levi struggled to his feet. The heavy bench, held in place by so many bodies, pressed against his calves. He half welcomed the discomfort, nailing him to reality as it did.

  He’d been some surprised to learn the Bonners Ferry Stopping House was run by three sisters. But the smell of supper convinced him to stay. He’d met Miss Joanna when he paid for his meal, noted she wore a split skirt under her big white apron. He’d met Miss Mandy as she skittered away when he went to wash up. Miss Mandy carried a dozen prairie grouse and hung them on a nail. She wore baggy pants and a big slouch hat. So he shouldn’t have been surprised when Miss Glory slid to an empty spot at the table.

  Except he was. Somehow he thought she’d be hunkered down by a campfire someplace deep in the woods. Exactly why he thought such a thing baffled him. Sure, she looked a little rough around the edges, and her gaze, as she glared at him, suggested she didn’t much care what people thought. Him in particular. But just the same, his assumptions were foolish. Of course she had family. Likely friends. The young man she’d dragged from the saloon sat further along the bench. Finding her in a saloon, befriending a man who had been partaking, he supposed his mistaken idea came from evidence she herself had provided.

  He shepherded his thoughts back to his purpose. “Folks, I’m here to bring God’s Word into this area. I’m available if you want to hear it read, or talk about His love, or pray. Feel free to come to me at any time. I’m looking for a suitable place to hold Sunday services. I expect we’ll meet outdoors for a few weeks. Now let us pray.” He bowed his head and asked God’s blessing on the food, thanking God for His many mercies.

  For several minutes after he sat down, the food was passed, plates loaded, and people put their attention to eating before they began talking. Much of the conversation centered on the trail ahead. Most of those present were headed for the Kootenais to look for gold. Hope and desperation hung like flags over the table.

  Levi listened to the man on his right tell how he’d sold everything and left his wife and children with her parents. “I aim to make enough to buy myself a piece of land and build a big house.”

  “And if you don’t?” It always bothered him that pursuing dreams without considering reality so often led to desperate actions.

  The man shuddered. “I don’t think I could continue to face life.”

  Levi had let his gaze and attention wander to Glory, who was in animated conversation with the man next to her. What had her so enthused? But his attention returned to the man at his side, and he dismissed all other distractions in his concern for the confession from the man’s lips. “If you find yourself in such a situation, I urge you to pray and ask God to provide direction to something productive. There are always alternatives to desperation.” Just as there were always alternatives to crime, though he didn’t voice the thought.

  Suddenly everyone pushed back as if given a signal. He hadn’t been watching. Perhaps Miss Joanna had indicated the meal was over.

  She spoke now. “For those planning to spend the night, the room will be ready by eight. Feel free to return then and claim a spot. In the meantime, you are welcome to make yourself comfortable outside and enjoy the sunshine.”

  Levi had noticed benches outside against the walls of the stopping house and guessed she meant those.

  Joanna continued. “Ladies”—she referred to the four female guests—“you’re welcome to stay indoors if you prefer.”

  Mandy strode outside, lifted the birds from the nail where she’d left them, and disappeared behind a shed in the far corner. Levi suspected she meant to dress them ready to cook.

  He barely got his feet under him when Glory started to gather up the tin plates with a good deal of racket. She carried them into the kitchen and dropped them into a basin of water.

  He made his way to the door.

  A great amount of clattering came from the kitchen.

  He emerged into the slanted evening sun and leaned against the warm wall.

  The young man he’d seen with Glory sidled up to him. “Hi, I’m Toby.”

  He shook hands with the younger man.

  “You really a preacher?”

  “I am.”

  “Where all you preached?”

  “Several places.” He named two towns in the Dakotas where he’d done what he could and moved on, ever wanting to do more.

  “So whatcha doing here? This here is a tight ship, as my pa would say.”

  Levi didn’t know if he meant the town or the stopping house and didn’t care to discuss it. He had his work cut out for him whether a kid who got drunk in the middle of the afternoon thought so or not. “Where’s your pa?” Seemed Toby ought to be with a parent still.

  “Back home in Indiana.”

  From the open door came more clattering. Washing tin plates seemed to be a noisy affair.

  Joanna, working in the dining room, called out, “Glory, could you keep the noise down a mite? My ears are hurting.”

  Levi grinned deep inside. Seems something was annoying Miss Glory to the point of taking it out on innocent dishes. Could be one of the reasons the stopping house used tin plates.

  Toby leaned back against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with Levi, by all looks, intent on a long chin-wag. Well, it was what Levi had invited. Part of what he’d vowed to do. The words he’d said to God on his knees guided his every decision. Lord, You work on Matt where he is, and I’ll work for You out here.

  “I was headed for the Kootenai gold fields. Sort of ran out of steam about here.”

  Le
vi read between the lines. Ran out of money. Ran into a saloon.

  “The buffalo gals sort of helped me out, if you know what I mean.”

  Levi did. “Buffalo gals?”

  Toby tipped his head toward the door. “That’s what they call them three.”

  “How so?”

  Toby shrugged. “Can’t say. Never asked anyone. It just is.”

  It just is. Seems a lot of life was like that. No reason for why things were. No reason for parents dying and leaving two boys orphaned. No reason for one choosing to follow God, the other choosing to run wild. Except—Levi’s teeth clenched of their own accord—he believed things could be different. If someone would show kindness to the hurting, reach out a hand to those in need…

  It was what his task was. He’d do it to the best of his ability and trust God to do His share where Levi couldn’t.

  Another man, dressed in a suit better fitted for sitting behind a desk, edged toward Levi. He waited for a break in the conversation. “Can I talk to you?”

  “Certainly.”

  “It’s kind of private.”

  “Of course.” He unwound himself from the wall and followed the man away from the crowd toward a place where they appeared to be alone.

  The man looked around to be sure before he spoke. “Preacher, would you pray for me?”

  “By all means. What shall I pray?” He listened to the man’s story, read some encouraging scriptures, and prayed.

  By then the sun was setting, sending flares of red, orange, and pink across the Kootenai River. He’d planned to set up camp in a quiet spot among the trees, but now it was too late to find a decent spot. And it seemed he could best live up to his purpose if he stayed closer to town and hung around the stopping house, which practically burst with people.

  Besides, if he stayed, perhaps he could talk to Glory and find out what made her eyes glint like sun off a rifle barrel every time he glanced at her. Seemed the gal had a mighty big grudge fueling her audaciousness.