Chapter Seventeen
“I do hope you’ll come back and see us again more regularly,” Pastor William said, adjusting his spectacles. He clasped Rachel’s hand in both of his warmly. “It’s such a pleasure to have a new member of the congregation.”
The two of them stood on the steps in front of the old white church building, the other members of the congregation milling around them.
Occasionally, someone stopped to thank the pastor, and he always took the time, but when they were finished, he returned to Rachel.
She understood—she hadn’t been in church in a very long time.
He must be pleased to have her return to the fold.
“Those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit,” Pastor William repeated the theme of his sermon.
“I find it such a helpful reminder when times are hard and I forget to keep my focus on the spiritual. The secular world surrounds us with challenges, but as long as we keep our hearts with God, we walk through those challenges.”
Rachel nodded. It was strange—this was what she and Adam had been discussing on their way into town.
It was almost as if the sermon had been a direct answer to that conversation, which of course Pastor William could not have known about.
She smiled inwardly at the thought—God had been speaking to her in church today.
She bid the pastor farewell with assurances that she would be back next Sunday and hastened down the stairs.
She’d spotted Adam waiting for her, leaning against his wagon with a piece of bread in his hand.
When he had dropped her off, he had told her that he would find something to do in town until the service was over, and though she had longed to ask him to come in with her, she had refrained.
She’d known he was doing enough by taking this time out of his day so that she could be here at all.
She hurried to his side, reflecting as she did so how strong and confident he looked.
Their conversation on the way into town had made her think of him as a little more unsure of himself.
To question God as he had done—he must be full of doubts.
But there was also the fact that he was clever and confident enough to express those doubts. Not every man would be.
He was dressed in his ranch clothes, dirty pants and a faded button-down shirt, and it made him stand out amongst the churchgoers.
Even Rachel felt underdressed, and she ran her hands over her skirts, self-conscious.
She’d worn her nicest dress for the occasion, one she rarely so much as touched anymore because it hurt her to look at it.
It was the last dress her mother had made for her before the rift had grown between them.
She had been younger then, and smaller, and she’d tended to the dress over the years. There were marks on the sleeves and on the hem where she’d had to let it out a few times. Out of all of her clothing, this was the dress she took the best care of, and it was also the one she never wore.
But today was special.
As she drew near, Adam stood upright. He broke his piece of bread in half and handed some to her. “Fresh from the bakery,” he said. “I just came from there. Thought you might be hungry after all that worship.”
The teasing in his tone let her know that, for the moment, at least, the heaviness of their earlier conversation had been forgotten. She smiled and inhaled the yeasty sourdough. “This smells wonderful,” she told him. “Why don’t we get fresh bread more often?”
“Well, if you like it, perhaps we should,” he said. “I’ve always been happy with the bread we have at home. The bread you’ve been using to make my sandwiches.”
“Yes, but it’s…not stale, but we do keep the same bread for a while,” she said.
“We just don’t use it quickly enough to justify buying fresh every day.”
Rachel took a bite of the piece in her hands. It was warm in her mouth and the crust crunched pleasantly. “Perhaps we would use it more quickly if it was this good,” she suggested.
“Let me guess—fresh bread is a blessing from God?” He was still smiling.
She took it in good humor. “Everything is a blessing from God.”
He held out a hand and helped her up into the wagon.
People were watching them, she knew, just as they had been the last time she and Adam had come into town together, but this time it was more benign.
There was little to gossip about. Everyone had seen her at church on her own.
If she had been romantically involved with Adam, he would have been there with her, so if their speculation about that rumor was true, surely it would be at an end now.
She glanced at the bakery as they drove past, taking another bite of her bread. There were loaves in the windows, probably as fresh as the sourdough she held in her hand, and it occurred to her that she’d never been inside that bakery—it was new in recent years.
Perhaps Adam would take her sometime.
This new life she was forging for herself seemed full of possibility today, and gratitude filled her heart.
God, thank You for giving me this fresh start.
Setting my mind on matters of the spirit did help me walk through my darker days, just as Pastor William said—and now, at last the sun is coming out.
***
The smell of smoke reached her a moment before Rachel saw the black plumes rising from the kitchen window. She gasped, terror sinking its claws into her heart. “What’s burning?”
Adam was already in motion. He vaulted off the wagon without bringing Chestnut to a stop and set off for the house at a sprint. Rachel leaned over and grabbed the reins, pulling back to halt the horse. Her heart beat so hard it hurt. Mason is in there. If anything happened…
She clambered off the wagon and ran after Adam. He had already ripped the front door open and gone inside by the time she caught up, and she found him in front of the stove, waving his hands to clear the haze away.
Rachel’s mind was at ease instantly—Mason was not in the kitchen.
Her body took longer to settle. Her breathing was rapid and her heart still pounded ferociously.
She hurried over to the window and threw it open to start venting more thick air from the kitchen.
Coughing, she held a sleeve over her nose and mouth.
I should have done that sooner. She had inhaled some of the smoke.
Not much, but her throat was sore from it now.
Adam turned away from the stove. Did he seem taller than usual? His eyebrows were drawn to a point. “Did you leave the stove burning?”
“Did I…what?” She shook her head. “I didn’t even use the stove this morning, Adam!”
She racked her mind, trying to make the events she’d just experienced add up.
The stove clearly had been left on. Breakfast for her had been fruit and bread, but she’d intended to make eggs for Adam and Mason before deciding to insist on church.
Was it possible she had lit the stove? She had no memory of doing so, but now she was doubting herself. Might it have happened?
“The place could have burned down!” Adam used a towel to pick up a pan that had been sitting on the stove by the handle.
He flung it into the sink, where it landed with a clatter, and Adam threw the towel down on the counter next to it.
“How could you be so careless, Rachel?” His voice was thick with smoke, but also with emotion. Clearly, he had not believed her.
Rachel looked at the pan. She couldn’t tell what had been cooking—it was blackened and burned beyond recognition, and the only aroma in the room was the smoke, though it was now beginning to thin out thanks to the still-open door and the window.
“I definitely didn’t do that,” she said, pointing to the pan. “I didn’t cook anything, Adam, truly.”
In the face of his anger, she surprised herself—she didn’t feel timid.
Occasionally Nathan had shouted at her like this, and though she had complained about it with Edith behind his back, in the moment it had always cowed her.
With Adam, though, it was different. She wasn’t afraid to speak up, to tell him that he was wrong.
Adam paced back and forth, hands on his hips. “How do you explain this?” he asked her. “If you say you didn’t do it, then what did happen?”
“Adam?”
The voice came from behind Rachel. She turned to see Mason standing in the doorway, his eyes wide, his hands in the pockets of his pants.
“Is anything ruined?” he asked, his voice pitched higher than usual.
Rachel moved toward him. “Let’s get you out of here,” she said quickly, putting a hand on his shoulder and steering him out of the kitchen and down the hall toward the living room. “That’s not a good place to be right now, Mason. Not until the smoke clears.”
He looked up at her as she guided him into a seat on the settee. “Is Adam angry with me?”
“With you? No, I wouldn’t think so,” she said. “Why do you ask?”
Adam appeared in the living room. “Everything’s fine, Mason,” he growled.
“Just a little burnt food.” The boy’s appearance seemed to have caused some of his anger to dissipate, though he did scowl at Rachel as he sat down, so perhaps not all of it.
Raking a hand through his hair, he went to his chair and sat down.
With two fingers, he poked furiously at the stuffing that emerged from a rip in the upholstery until it went back in.
“It’s not Rachel’s fault,” Mason said in a rush, his palms up, moving in front of Rachel slightly. “I heard you yelling at her and throwing things, Adam, but you can’t. It wasn’t her, it was me. Don’t hurt her.”
Adam’s face darkened slightly. “What do you mean, it was you?”
“I wanted to make some eggs,” Mason said, his voice quivering. “I was hungry, and—and no one was here, and I just thought I would make breakfast.”
“Then how did the kitchen catch fire?”
“Well, I went to read my adventure book while I waited…”
“And you just left them in the kitchen? On the flame?” Adam sat forward, staring at Mason.
“How could you be so reckless? And what have I told you about looking at books when you’re supposed to be tending to more important things, Mason?
This is how bad things happen on ranches—how many times do you need me to explain this to you?
This is how houses burn down. Look at me!
” For Mason was staring down at the floor.
“You could have burned my house down! I brought you to live here—I didn’t have to do that—and that’s how you repay me?
With that kind of irresponsible behavior? ” He threw up his hands.
Mason jumped to his feet. “Maybe you shouldn’t have taken me in at all!” he cried. His voice broke, and Rachel could see that he was near tears. She reached out to him, wanting to take him in her arms and comfort him.
But he pulled out of her grasp and ran for the kitchen, leaving her reaching out for nothing. A moment later, they heard the door slam shut.
She jumped to her feet and whirled to face Adam. “What did you do that for?”
He rose to his feet as well. “He could have burned the place down,” he said. “He needs to realize that his actions have consequences.”
“Don’t take that sanctimonious tone with me.
Do you think you were teaching him a lesson?
” Fury coursed through her. “Did you see the look on his face? Did you hear the words he said, Adam? Don’t hurt her.
He thought you were going to—to lash out at me over what had happened.
I’ll bet he heard that clatter when you threw the pan into the sink.
That’s probably what made him come running. ”
“That made him come running, but not the smell of smoke?” Adam shook his head. “Rachel, I know you’re a merciful woman, but he nearly burned the house down and you’d have me say nothing at all?”
“I didn’t tell you to say nothing at all!” Rachel’s voice was edging toward frantic, but she couldn’t stop herself, and that didn’t matter so much right now anyway. “You didn’t have to shout at him while he was so frightened, though, did you? Did you? Did you see his face? And now he’s run off!”
“I’m sure he’s just in the hayloft,” Adam said wearily. “He hides there sometimes.”
“Adam, you need to think about what you’re doing.
Truly think. Mason’s father beat him. We know that.
Don’t you think your anger must be difficult for him?
But he didn’t hide.” Her heart swelled with pride for the boy.
“He faced you. He told you what he’d done, because he wanted to make sure the wrong person wasn’t punished for it.
As frightened as he obviously was, he took accountability.
He didn’t need a scolding. He certainly didn’t need your rage!
If he knows that’s what he’s going to get, he won’t come clean with you so readily the next time something happens! Lord knows I never did with Nathan.”
She was breathing rather heavily when she finished speaking, and she stood face to face with Adam—nearly toe to toe, in fact. She stared up at him. His eyes were wide, and she was momentarily satisfied. He had heard what she’d said. He’d taken her seriously.
“I’m not like your stepfather,” Adam said in a low, heavy voice. “I’m not like Mason’s father.”
“No,” Rachel agreed, softening slightly. “But I’d be willing to bet you looked an awful lot like his father to him a moment ago.”
“You’re probably right,” he said at length. “I probably shouldn’t have said all that. I was angry, but…no, I shouldn’t have been so harsh with him. I can see that now.”
“I won’t allow it,” she said quietly, just in case he required any further clarification of just how ardently she meant what she had said.
“I will not allow you to speak to Mason that way, Adam. Not with his history—not knowing how cruel people have been to him. He shouldn’t have to live in fear of your anger now that he’s here with us.
I know you would never lay a hand on him, of course—but until he knows that too, I will never allow you to speak to him the way you did today.
You brought me here to care for him, and that’s going to be a part of it. ”
And having had her say, she turned and walked out of the living room, aware of the fact that he was staring after her.