The Holy Warrior (20 page)

If a bomb had gone off in the church, it could not have
caused more excitement than when Rev. Greene stood up and announced the engagement of his daughter Melissa to the Rev. Chris Winslow. An audible gasp rippled across the room, and when the crowd was dismissed, they swarmed around Missy. Martha Shipton’s eyes were reproachful as she gripped Missy’s arm and hissed, “I hate you, Missy! Not a word to me, your best friend!” Her mock-scowl was replaced with a smile as she hooked her arm in Missy’s, saying contentedly, “But now you’ll tell me everything!”

Poor Tom Cantrell looked as if he’d lost his life’s savings, but he put up a bold front, coming up to say, “Well, you picked a big one, Missy. I always knew you’d find someone more your size than I am!”

Missy laughed out loud and gave Tom a better hug than he’d ever gotten in the two years he had doggedly pursued her. “You do have a way with words, Tom!”

She was relieved to see Caroline come to stand beside her, smiling slightly as she spoke of the match. Missy managed to give her a hug, saying, “Caroline, I—I’m so happy.” Then the bride-to-be was pulled away by a group who were demanding the right to have a bridal shower for her.

When Chris came over the following Tuesday, he grinned when Missy asked him how his congregation had taken the news.

“I suppose ‘mixed emotions’ would best describe it. The elders were all relieved, the mothers with eligible daughters were affronted, and the eligible daughters mad as hops.”

“Oh, Chris, how awful!”

“I suppose—though your father warned me that it would be like that.” He grinned again, a twinkle in his eyes. “It’s nothing, though, compared to what’s in store for you!”

“Christmas Winslow—whatever do you mean?”

“My parents will be here in less than a month.”

“Oh, Chris! I’m scared to face them!”

“You should be, stealing their firstborn!” he teased. “No, seriously—you’ll do fine. The funny thing is, Mr. Jennings practically forced the church to buy a nice old house for a parsonage last month.”

Her eyes sparkled and she laughed in delight. “I’ll bet he had the lady all picked out who was going to live in it!”

“Couldn’t say—but the lady who is going to live in it is far more beautiful than the lady Mr. Jennings had in mind!”

Missy laughed, and with a warm feeling of possession, she reached up, pulled his head down, and kissed him. “You are a charmer, Brother Winslow!”

He squeezed her in response. “As I started to tell you, my folks can stay in the parsonage—and you and Mother can fix it up. They’ve got plenty of money, so soak them for all the traffic will bear!”

“You’re awful!” she scolded.

“I have always been pretty awful,” he agreed. “But I’m tall!” And he smiled at her, saying, “It’s going to be fun being married to you, Missy!”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

OUT OF THE PAST

“It’s beautiful, Missy,” Julie said, standing back to admire the two-story house shaded by three towering elm trees. The two women had been to the general store to pick up the curtains that Julie had ordered from Lexington. For weeks they had worked on the house, ever since Nathan and Julie had arrived.

Standing at the white picket fence, Missy looked with pleasure at the house, and slipped her arm around Julie, saying, “How can we ever thank you for all you’ve done for us?” She laughed and added, “I’m not good enough for Christmas—but you’ll have to put up with me anyway.”

“Nathan and I are so happy about it, Missy. God gave me a word when Chris was born that he would be a preacher.” She sobered and Missy saw the fine features, still youthful, grow pensive. “It’s been a long wait, but I praise the Lord for calling him—and for giving him a good wife to share his labors.”

“It’s been good to see Chris and his father together.”

“Another miracle,” Julie remarked, and looked with a smile toward the side of the house where the two men were putting in a new bay window for the dining room. “Nathan’s been a new man since Chris changed. I’ve never seen him so happy.” Then she laughed and said, “Well, if we’re going to get these curtains up before the wedding, we’d better get at it!”

“Oh, it’s a long time yet—almost two weeks!”

“Slow as I am, it may take that long.” The two women went inside and worked steadily on the curtains for the next few
hours. At noon they all paused to eat lunch under the large apple tree in the backyard. It was late July, and no rain had fallen, so the cool shade was welcome. They dined on cold chicken, potato salad, biscuits dripping with yellow butter, and cool milk chilled in the spring, topping the delicious meal off with a fresh peach pie that Julie had baked.

Chris licked his fingers, leaned against the tree, and said, “I hope you’ll stay around long enough to teach Missy to cook and bake, Mother. Why, last week I gave the dog a piece of bread she had made, and he wouldn’t even touch it!”

“What! How can you say such things—after all the awful stuff you ate in the mountains?”

“What awful stuff are you talking about?” Chris winked at Nathan and went on innocently. “We ate good food all the time.”

“Good food! You ate raw liver—and buffalo tongue, and all sorts of terrible things.”

“Sounds all right to me,” Nathan replied good-naturedly. “Never had any buffalo tongue, but it sounds tender. Wonder why we don’t eat the cow tongue? Might be the best part.”

“He’d eat shoe leather if you put it in front of him. He was always that way. Knox was the finicky one.” Julie was able to say her son’s name easily now, Missy noticed, and was touched by it. It had not always been that way, she knew. Chris had told her about Knox’s death, and how the whole family had been devastated by it—especially Chris, who had struggled with feelings of guilt that intensified his grief. It took years before he was able to forgive himself for his brother’s death.

“He was pretty picky when we were growing up, but in the mountains he ate like everybody else,” Chris told them. “Once we ran out of grub in the middle of winter, except for some deer that had spoiled bad. We finally had to eat it, even though it was downright green—”

“Hush up, Chris!” Julie cried, throwing up her hands. “I don’t want to hear such things!” She looked at the house and sat back, smoothing her dress over her knees, a contented
expression on her face. “The congregation has done a lot to get this house together. It shows how much they love their pastor.”

“And they’ve taken to the pastor’s bride-to-be,” Nathan smiled. “Even Brother Jennings and Sister Smiley have had to give in.”

“Sister Smiley could talk the legs off a stove!” Julie commented tartly.

Chris snorted. “You two have learned more about this congregation in a month than I have since I’ve been here.”

“People are alike, Chris,” Julie said. “Every church has its saints and its sinners. Those you think are worthless will sometimes prove to be pure gold; others who are prominent will pull the wool over your eyes and you’ll be fooled. Of course, there will be those who are merely religious, but they will fold when the trials come.”

“I think you’re right, Mother,” Chris responded soberly, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “You never know people until they get in the fire, do you? What we are is covered up by our manners—until we get hurt. That’s when we let what we’re like inside come out.”

Missy rose and began clearing away the lunch things, thinking about how much she enjoyed the conversation. She had never been so happy in her life. Every day she and Chris grew closer. He was stronger spiritually than she was, and she was sorry she had not spent more time reading the Bible. It wasn’t too late, however, for it had become a joy to sit down with Chris and read the Scripture and pray together. Never before had she had anyone she could really open her heart to, and every time they talked she learned more about herself. Missy finished gathering the lunch dishes and leftovers, and she and Julie returned to the house.

Moments later she heard Chris’s excited shouting outside, and she and Julie dashed to the window.

Missy looked in the direction he was pointing to see a
man dismount and approach the house, where the men were relaxing on the porch.

“It’s Con!” Chris cried excitedly. “Did you send for him, Father?”

“Why, no—matter of fact, I thought he and Frenchie were upriver,” Nathan replied in a puzzled voice. “They were supposed to build a new post on the Milk River. I wonder why he’s back.”

“Con, what in the world are you doing here?” he asked. “Anything wrong?”

The trapper had aged considerably since Chris had last seen him. He was thin and had few teeth left, but there was still the same light in his eyes. He grinned, saying, “Nathan, you’re gittin’ as fat as a sucklin’ pig!” Then he gave Chris a sharp look. “Well, I always knowed you’d never make it as a mountain man, Chris.” He sighed and leaned against a white column. “But when I heard you’d hit the glory trail and gone to preaching, I say to Frenchie, ‘It’s a disgrace what a man will do to git hisself outta work!’ ”

“Con, you old pirate!” Chris responded joyfully, slapping the old man’s thin shoulder. “I’m going to get you converted if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

“Too late.”

“It’s never too late to get right with God, Con.”

Con’s wrinkled face broke into a broad grin. “I mean I done did it already, Chris. Made the mistake of listenin’ to a preacher feller named Cartwright, and I’d be blasted if he didn’t jest talk me into it! Them words I’ve been readn’ all these years finally took.”

Chris stared at him. “Are you serious, Con?”

“Yep. I’m a new creature, Chris—and Frenchie hates it! I don’t say nothin’ to him about his sinful ways, but he’s got so’s he feels guilty when I’m around. Says I’ve got so holy he’s afraid to spit in my presence!”

“That’s wonderful, Con!” Chris responded warmly. “I’ve been praying for you and Frenchie.”

Just then the women emerged, and Julie said, “Why, Con, it’s good to see you.”

“Howdy, Miz Winslow.” He gave Missy a sharp look. “You shore did grow up nice and tall!”

Missy laughed. “I sure enough did. What’s more, you can’t take Chris back with you this time, Con. I’ve got him all tied with my apron string!”

Everyone but Con laughed. Puzzled, Julie asked, “What’s wrong, Con?”

The trapper shifted his feet nervously, looked at Chris, and cleared his throat. “Chris—I got something to say to you. Might be best if you heard it by yourself.”

Chris stared at him, then said quietly, “Whatever it is, Con, my parents and Missy can hear it.”

“It’s your say, Chris.” He paused, looking carefully at Chris. “I been up in the Snake country, Chris. Went plum on up into Canada. Thought I’d see if they was a chance of puttin’ a post up there.”

“The Hudson’s Bay Company would never stand for that,” Chris said.

“Yeah, I know that. Guess I just wanted to see the country again ’fore I settle down. Anyway, I followed the Milk up above Fort McKenzie, and then I crossed the mountains and turned north. I’d heard that there was a pile of beaver to be had somewhere around there, so I followed the mountains—and I swear I never even knew when I hit Canada! Well, it was like most tales you hear, Chris—there wasn’t much truth to the tale; it wasn’t really beaver country. Wal, I figured I’d jest see some new country, so I started east, crossed the mountains again—and I hit a village right at the foot of them. First I thought they was Snakes, like over west of the mountains, but they wasn’t. They was Pawnees.”

Chris stared at him. “Never heard of any Pawnees that far north.”

“Me neither, but that’s what they was.” Con grinned humorlessly and scratched his head. “Fact is, they sorta caught
me off guard—but I didn’t mention that I was part of the Winslow Company. They ain’t forgot you wiped out Red Ghost and lots of their relatives a few years back.”

“How’d you get away, Con?” Nathan asked.

“Mostly by promising to come back with everything they asked for, Nathan. They want guns and whiskey, ’course; and I made them such big promises, they let me go. But while I was there, I seen something, and I come right here to tell ya, Chris.”

A strange hollow feeling gnawed in the pit of Chris’s stomach. “What was it, Con?”