Chapter 1 #2
The reverend reached for a Bible sitting on the pew beside him and held it in his hands as he gestured with his chin toward the pew.
She sat on the bench, maybe a foot away from him.
Wordlessly, he handed her the Bible. She blinked as he gave her a small nod and a smile.
She took the Bible and gripped it in her hands as she placed it on her lap.
“Tell me what’s troubling you, Miss Whitfield.”
Heart pounding, she gently shook her head. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Why don’t you tell me why you visited the orphanage,” he suggested.
She began hesitantly. “I grew up in an orphanage myself, Reverend, in Omaha. I don’t remember much of my life before the orphanage, just glimpses here and there.”
She paused. Before his gentle nod to continue, she recalled flashes of images along with subsequent events that had left a definite mark and influence on her that ended up bringing her where she was right now, sitting in this church with a friendly preacher.
“When I was about ten years old, a boy came to live at the orphanage. His name was Silas. He was my own age and we became good friends.”
The preacher nodded. “Go on.”
“When we were sixteen the orphanage told Silas that he had to leave and make his own way. You see, the orphanage had a limited number of beds for older children. Most were needed for younger children. Being a girl, I would have been allowed to stay and given a position in the orphanage for my room and board, but Silas had to leave.”
She paused and took a deep breath, knowing that what she was about to say would likely prompt disapproval from the reverend. “Wanting to be loyal to the only friend I’d ever had, I made a rash decision and left with him.”
She paused, watching the reverend’s features. He showed no emotion but gave a small nod. “I see. What happened then?”
She finally started to relax, relieved that he hadn’t pointed his finger and told her to get out of his church, that no proper young lady would’ve done what she had.
Gathering her courage, she continued. “It wasn’t nearly as adventurous as I’d believed it would be.
Finding shelter and food was difficult.”
The memories came back, most of them hunger and cold and countless fears.
“Silas worked at odd jobs, but I quickly learned that people didn’t want to hire a young woman of my age without much of an education and no work experience.
” She hesitated again. “Sometimes … sometimes Silas would have to resort to stealing to get us something to eat. Most of the time we had to sleep under the stars or in doorway …”
“That must’ve been very difficult for you,” Reverend Dunby murmured.
Though her heart pounded, she still heard no condemnation in his voice.
“Just before our first winter after leaving the orphanage, we met a young man named Everett. He was two years older.” She smiled softly and offered a small shrug.
She’d been so young, innocent, and foolish.
“He was handsome, charming, and witty. He took us under his wing and helped us survive.” She paused again, remembering. “The three of us became inseparable.”
Now she’d come to the hardest part. While she’d been avoiding his gaze, she now turned to look at the preacher, knowing that she couldn’t shy from the truth.
He seemed to recognize her hesitance and glanced at the Bible in her lap.
She too looked down at the leather cover embossed with a gold cross and the words Holy Bible beneath it.
God, please give me strength and courage, and please forgive me for my many sins.
“I fell in love with Everett.” She paused. “At least at the time I thought it was love. We were married when I was eighteen and he was twenty. Everett had always been a bit quiet and secretive, but after we were married, he changed.” She frowned, remembering.
“He grew taciturn and impatient, always seeming to want what others had that he didn’t.
I tried to make him happy, but it became clear that he wasn’t.
” She stumbled over her words, recalling the fear she’d felt at the time.
“I brought up my concerns to Silas, but he defended everything Everett did.” She sighed softly and shook her head.
“I finally realized that Silas had changed as well.”
She paused so long the reverend had to urge her to carry on.
“Please continue,” he said gently. “Purge your soul.”
She wasn’t sure that was possible. “Well, it was about that time that I had begun to hear rumors of a gang robbing travelers, businesses, and even farmers and ranchers in the area. They called themselves the Blackwell gang.” She looked up at the reverend, saw him nodding thoughtfully once again, as if he knew it was coming.
“I … I found out that they, Everett and Silas, had formed a gang. They did bad things.” Her voice trembled. “I found out that they’d become outlaws and, and that they hurt people. I … I turned them into the local sheriff and they were put in jail.”
“That took a lot of courage,” he murmured.
She sat with a stiff back and a roiling stomach. She’d never spoken to anyone about any of this, not even Maggie. She felt conflicted. Warm tears filled her eyes but she blinked them back.
“I loved him once, or at least I thought so. I loved Silas too, like a brother, but they … they weren’t good people anymore.
They hurt people. I had to turn them in, I had to!
” The tears spilled over and she lowered her head, fingers tightly clutching the Bible in her lap.
Suddenly one of the reverend’s hands settled over hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“You did the right thing, Missus Whitfield—”
“I wasn’t … after he was put in jail I changed my last name. I wasn’t a Whitfield then, I made it up, but … but I had to do it. They were both so very angry with me, but Everett, well, he was furious, actually. When he learned what I’d done, he threatened revenge.”
“You did what you felt you had to do, and the Lord will not fault you for that. If they were hurting people, robbing people, you did the right thing. Remember the words of Proverbs. ‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make straight your paths’.” He paused.
“I know that must’ve been a very difficult thing for you to do, but you did the right thing. ”
She could barely swallow, another sob bubbling up inside her chest as she looked at him, his face blurry with her tears. “I had to report them, but it was so difficult, so very difficult because …”
“Because?” he encouraged.
She choked down another sob and lowered her eyes.
“Because it was the same time that I learned that I was with child.” She lifted a hand to her mouth and stifled a sob.
“I hadn’t told him yet, I couldn’t … and then after I told the sheriff and they were arrested …
” She took a deep breath and shakily released it.
“They both swore that I would pay for betraying them.” She looked at the reverend.
“I was terrified. I couldn’t tell him, I just couldn’t! I … I went to the place we had been staying, grabbed a few meager belongings, and ran away with the few dollars I’d saved up doing laundry and sewing for people.”
She felt the weight of what she’d in her chest and began to rock slightly, despair snatching at bits of what might be left of her soul. “In a matter of months I found out that they’d been tried, found guilty, and sent to the state prison in Missouri.”
“And you didn’t seek a divorce.”
She glanced at him with a shrug. “I’ve never heard of a woman being awarded a divorce, no matter what.”
He heaved a sigh and nodded. “And then?”
This was the worst part. “A couple of months later, I was reading a newspaper and found an article. I learned that Everett and Silas had escaped the prison.” She pressed her lips together in an effort to calm the surge of panic that still rose inside her at the thought. “I’ve lived with fear ever since.”
“They’ve never been caught?”
“They ride with others now, from what I’ve read in the newspapers, but Everett is the leader.” She shook her head, her mouth dry, the terror and horror that had been a constant companion all these years prompting her, even now inside a church, to look over her shoulder.
“Tell me the rest of it,” he softly bade.
“I ran, Reverend Dunby,” she confessed. “I made it as far as here in Lincoln before I delivered my baby.” Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I had no job, no way to make a living and take care of my baby girl at the same time.” Her voice broke once more and her shoulders curled inward, another sob bubbling upward.
She choked it down and when she regained control, she continued.
“A few weeks later, the midwife who’d helped me, along with the minister …” She looked up. “There was someone different here then …”
“Yes.”