Chapter 13
Sunday morning sunlight poured through the parsonage windows as Eleanor dressed Nora in a clean gown, tying a small ribbon into the child’s soft curls.
The little girl babbled happily. It seemed she was in an exceptionally good mood that morning.
Eleanor could not help but smile in return, whispering sweet compliments that made Nora beam.
When Eleanor picked her up and held her against her hip, the little girl reached for Eleanor’s braid, using it as an anchor for her tiny fingers. Eleanor had come to expect the gesture, but it still warmed her heart.
Levi waited in the hallway, his dark coat brushed and his Bible in hand.
Together, they stepped out into the bright day.
Eleanor walked beside him, holding Nora, who kept her face hidden against the young woman’s neck, tickling Eleanor’s skin with her hair.
Eleanor ran a hand over the girl’s head, tucking her a little closer.
From the outside, the three of them looked like any other family making their way to worship. The thought both warmed and pierced her because she was the reason the image was tainted by deceit.
Inside the church, Eleanor took her place in the pastor’s pew. Nora settled contentedly on Eleanor’s lap, one small fist still wrapped around her braid. Levi stepped into the pulpit, his broad shoulders straight, his blue eyes steady as he looked out over the congregation.
His sermon focused on mercy and the high cost of it. He proclaimed that mercy demanded that people extend to others the same grace they struggled to grant themselves. “It cost Heaven everything. And yet we are called to give it freely, even when our own hearts feel unworthy.”
Hector Callaway leaned forward in his pew, listening intently. Beside him, Grace held one hand pressed over her mouth, eyes glistening with emotion. Agnes Hartwell sat very still, her sharp features softened by the words.
Eleanor felt each sentence land in her own chest like a stone.
Mercy.
She knew that she needed it more than most.
When the final hymn faded and the benediction was spoken, the congregation filed out into the churchyard.
Eleanor stood with Cora near the edge of the grass where Nora was shifting in her arms and looking around as if searching for someone.
Eleanor had made her decision. After a long night of thinking and a sermon that felt like it was written on her behalf, she knew she needed to come clean. Levi deserved the truth.
Today.
She would tell Levi everything, starting with her true name.
Then, if he did not immediately cast her out, she would tell him about the horror she had witnessed in the stockroom and the desperate flight that had brought her to Deer Lodge and forced her to lie.
She had rehearsed the words while rocking Nora to sleep.
Now all she needed to do was recite them.
Her stomach tightened at the thought, and her mouth went dry.
Her gaze found Levi at the church door, shaking hands and offering quiet words to each member of his flock.
“This,” she thought with a deep pang, “will be the last time he looks at me without knowing the truth.” Because there was no telling what would happen once he knew she was a liar.
Mercy was easier said than done, and Eleanor feared she would see the life she had come to love shatter before her eyes.
Levi caught her eye across the yard and gave her a small, warm smile. “I am walking Widow Marsden home,” he called. “She is unsteady on the path, and it is only three blocks away. I will be home soon.”
Eleanor managed a small smile in return. She grasped her resolve, praying she would not lose hold of it. “We will see you there.”
She carried Nora back to the parsonage. Once inside, she settled Nora in her chair with a crust of bread to nibble at.
Eleanor sat at the table beside her, hands folded tightly, whispering under her breath.
“My name is Eleanor Cathcart. I witnessed a murder. I ran. Then I lied to you because I was afraid. I know I shouldn’t have, but…
I did not know what else to do.” The words grew heavier with every repetition.
Could she really do this? Could she risk everything she had built? Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe?—
Suddenly, a firm knock sounded at the front door.
Eleanor wiped her hands on her apron and rose, her heart still tangled in her planned confession. She opened the door without thinking.
A lean, clean-shaven man in a gray traveling coat stood on the threshold. His eyes were patient, almost regretful. “Mrs. Crandall? I need a moment of your time regarding a territorial matter.”
Before she could respond, a second man with broad shoulders and smelling heavily of horse and sweat, stepped into view behind him. Her body understood the threat before her mind could fully catch up. The air thickened. She turned to run.
But she did not get far before a cloth was clamped over her face from behind, reeking of something sharp and chemical.
The living room chair toppled with a crash as she struggled, trying to fend off her attacker, even as the world blurred at the edges.
She held her breath until her lungs begged for air.
Still fighting, she caught the table’s edge with her hip.
She screamed out, the chemical stinging her nose and making her woozy.
Nora began crying from the kitchen.
Eleanor’s world spun, but she still fought like a wild animal.
Her heel came down on someone’s foot. Her elbow drove back into a solid midsection.
But the arms holding her were stronger. The cloth pressed harder against her nose and mouth.
Darkness swirled at the edges of her vision.
The last sound she heard was Nora crying out her name.
She woke slowly, her head throbbing. Her wrists were tightly bound in front of her with rough rope that dug into her skin, leaving it raw. Parts of it were already stained red with her blood. Her cheek burned where it had struck something hard.
The room she was in was dim and unfamiliar, the air stale with the scent of cheap whiskey and cigar smoke. Arden Hargrove sat in a chair across from her, legs draped one over the other, as composed as he had been that night in the stockroom.
“Arden,” she whispered, voice raw.
“Mary gave up your assumed name as well as your destination,” he said without preamble.
“She tried to protect you, but with a little bit of coaxing, she quickly sang a different tune. It seems saving herself was much more important than saving you. Smart girl. She would have been charged as an accomplice to your crime, and you both would have fallen. No sense in that, now is there?”
“I didn’t…” Her voice trailed off as realization hit. Arden was framing her!
He pulled a folded paper from his coat and held it up.
“I already have your confession written. I figured I would save you the hassle of having to outline your embezzlement at Hargrove Mercantile and your subsequent flight from Philadelphia. Poor Henry Pryce got caught up in your schemes and paid dearly for it, as is life.” He turned it over in his grasp.
“Sign it, serve your three years, and this ends quietly. Refuse, and the parsonage burns in what will look like a tragic accident. A pastor and his daughter trapped inside. What a terrible thing. It nearly brings a tear to my eye,” he said without a lick of emotion.
Eleanor stared at him as the pillars of her new life crumbled around her.
Nora’s screams still echoed in her ears.
Levi’s sermon on mercy rang hollow in her mind.
There was no mercy for this. If Levi had known the truth…
maybe she could have found redemption. But if she needed to pretend to be a criminal to protect her family…
They would never look at her the same again.