The Preacher’s Daughter Read online

  He was exhausted at bedtime, but lay atop the covers wide-eyed with his head reeling. Finally he tugged on his denim trousers, shirt and boots and grabbed a jacket from near the door. A walk would do him good.

  The town hadn’t gone to sleep yet. Buggies traversed the streets and about half the homes had lights burning behind their windowpanes.

  He walked all the way to Ellie’s corner and stood behind a forsythia hedge where he could see the house and the lights. The room he knew belonged to Lorabeth was dark. He pictured her asleep, wondered if she’d missed him that week.

  A horse drew a buggy toward the house from the other direction and pulled up before the gate. Not an unusual occurrence to see a patient call on Caleb at odd hours.

  A tall man climbed down and reached back up to assist someone to the ground. A wife or daughter perhaps.

  The woman’s laughter arrested his thoughts, and Ben squinted through the darkness for a better look. She gathered her skirts and walked toward the door, the man close behind.

  Lorabeth!

  His head spun for a moment, the surprise scattering his thoughts. Her room was dark because she had been out with a gentleman caller!

  And Ellie had encouraged this?

  Anger welled in his chest. Lorabeth was too naive to be cavorting with the likes of the young men in this city. She had no idea of the vulnerable position she was placing herself in.

  She was too impressionable to be out alone.

  Ben held himself in check, not wanting her to know he’d been standing here as they arrived. She would think he was jealous or overly interested.

  What about Caleb’s responsibility? Caleb had made a promise to her father to see to Lorabeth’s well-being. The reverend would never approve of this.

  The couple was standing on the porch now, and the roof hid them from the moon and the streetlamps. Ben couldn’t see what was happening, but the front door hadn’t opened.

  It didn’t take this long to say a courteous good-night and take your leave.

  Ben strode out onto the walk and under the trellis where the path led to the house. His steps were loud and hurried.

  He made out two separate shadowy figures just as Lorabeth called, “Benjamin?”

  “Evenin’, Lorabeth. Who’s that there with you?”

  Carter Tibbs approached the edge of the top stair and reached for Ben’s hand. “Evenin’, Ben.”

  “We’ve just come from Ida Hunter’s,” Lorabeth told him, excitement lacing her voice. “Her home is nearly at the edge of town, and it’s beautiful! Her mother made candies and there was a tray of caramel-covered apples on sticks.”

  Enthusiasm poured from her as she shared everything she’d seen and done. “Hobie was funny tonight! One of his forfeits was to act like a pig!” She laughed.

  She shared her excitement with him as though he was her closest friend and she couldn’t wait to tell him. “We played pantomimes and blindman’s bluff. It was quite fun. I’m sorry you missed it.”

  “I had work to do,” he told her, but he was sorry he’d missed it, too. Sorry he’d missed her reactions. He’d cheated himself by holding back.

  “Well, perhaps next time,” she said just as friendly as you please.

  “Definitely,” he replied, with a pointed look at Carter.

  “What are you doing here so late?” she asked.

  Carter seemed curious for an answer, too.

  “I was going to speak with Caleb if he’s still up,” he replied.

  She seemed to accept that explanation. “I see. Thank you for accompanying me,” she told Carter. “It was a lovely evening.”

  “Thank you for agreeing to be my partner,” he replied. “You’ve taken to the group like a duck to water.

  Everyone likes you.”

  Ben should have stayed behind the hedge.

  He should have stayed at home.

  He should have shown up this week and invited her himself.

  He shouldn’t be standing here humiliating himself in front of Carter Tibbs. “Good night, Tibbs. See you in church in the morning?”

  Carter nodded and backed toward the top stair.

  “Good night, Lorabeth.” He returned to his buggy, picked up the reins and guided the horse away.

  “Come on in and we’ll see where Caleb is,” Lorabeth told Ben.

  “If he’s not in his study, I’ll just talk to him in the mornin’.”

  The study was dark as Ben had suspected it would be.

  “Lock the door behind me,” he told her.

  “Good night, Benjamin.”

  He closed himself out on the porch and listened for the turn of the lock and the sliding of the bolt.

  Carter certainly hadn’t wasted any time inviting Lorabeth to be his escort. Ben wondered why Carter had the impression that Lorabeth was free to accompany just any person who asked her.

  Lorabeth was free to accompany any person who asked her. The admission hit him over the head like a well-aimed two-by-four. Benjamin’s stomach knotted, and the night air was suddenly too close to breathe comfortably.

  He didn’t want to want her.

  What kind of man refused to acknowledge his desire for a woman and yet denied anyone else the privilege?

  He’d pondered what was missing inside him. Was it the ability to be like other people? Was it confidence?

  Was he dishonest with himself? He fought down the irrational feelings of helplessness and set a determined course toward home.

  Ben didn’t sleep well that night and awoke with the same thoughts on his mind.

  Lorabeth was seated at the piano when he arrived at church to sit with his family. He acknowledged her smile with a nod and slid into the pew beside Flynn.

  Lillith immediately scooted down from her father’s lap to work her way in front of Flynn’s knees and ease her fanny up until Ben tugged her onto his lap.

  He kissed her ear and smelled the delicate scent of her hair. Ellie’s children gave him hope. Their lives and happiness were slowly changing his jaded view of the world. They were delicate treasures, and he loved them wholeheartedly. “Mornin’, sweet pea.”

  Confident of her welcome, Lillith snuggled in comfortably until the hymns began and he urged her to stand. She took his hand and sang along while he held the hymnal low, even though she could only read a few words.

  Lorabeth was wearing a blue dress with matching ribbons in her hair. She sang along with “When the Roll is Called Up Yonder,” her gaze only occasionally touching the songbook in front of her. When the singing was over, she took a seat beside her brother in the front row, and Reverend Holdridge approached the pulpit.

  Ben seated himself again and Lillith tucked herself into a comfortable position with her head under his chin.

  Ellie glanced over and smiled. Baby Madeline slept soundly on her lap, and on her other side Nate and David fidgeted in their seats.

  Ben loved Sundays. He loved seeing his family all dressed in their best and enjoying the service. Loved going back to the house with his belly growling and helping set the table and see to the children. He loved family dinner and games and being around Caleb’s parents.

  He’d always felt as though he was sharing the benefits illegally somehow, as though this family life he so desired wasn’t truly his. Somehow Lorabeth’s presence exposed those insecurities for the truth.

  He wasn’t like all of the Chaneys—he was wired differently. Ellie would disagree because she’d made the needed adjustments and become like them.

  Ben had never learned how. He knew where he came from. He knew where he wanted to go. He just didn’t know how to get there—how to set aside the burdens that weighed him down. Was he even worthy to keep company with people like the Chaneys? Was he right to feel unworthy yet protective of someone like Lorabeth? He stored the doubts in a little cubbyhole in his mind and ignored them.

  The reverend read the story of Joseph and how his jealous brothers sold him into slavery, and Ben’s thoughts drifted to the kiss he a
nd Lorabeth had shared. Her father would run him out of town on a rail if he knew.

  Last night rose up and taunted him. Which was worse? Ben sullying Lorabeth’s innocence or another man making the attempt?

  The other man, of course.

  He couldn’t stop himself from turning and seeking out the man who’d been on his thoughts all night and this morning. He located the Tibbs family on the other side of the church, a few pews back.

  Carter’s parents appeared engrossed in the message. Carter’s older brother and his wife stole secret looks at each other and held hands. Carter was studying the front pew where Lorabeth sat with her younger brother on her left and her older brother and his wife on her right.

  Carter’s intense gaze traveled from the front of the church to fasten on Ben. He cast a barely perceptible nod. The greeting wasn’t as much of a hello as it was acknowledging the competition.

  A warning that had been flickering to life inside Ben burst into flame. For now his focus zeroed in on protecting Lorabeth. He could best do that by keeping her safe. By not neglecting her or forsaking her to the wolves in sheep’s clothing.

  He wasn’t completely fooling himself. He couldn’t deny that the idea of being Lorabeth’s guardian appealed to him on more than one level. He accepted the challenge in that moment while his gaze was locked with Carter’s.

  The reverend summed up his message with a prayer. With Lillith on one arm, Ben quickly made his way to the front to escort Lorabeth from the church.

  A short time later they were riding toward home in the buggy Caleb rented on Sundays. Lorabeth was seated with Lillith and David on either side of her, and Ben had sandwiched himself in the rear with Flynn and Nate. Anna was asleep on his lap.

  A thought occurred to him in that instant—an awful thought. What if Lorabeth preferred Carter Tibbs’s company to his?

  “Did you hear me?” Lillith asked over Lorabeth’s shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, what?” Ben asked.

  “I said why did God make fleas? Mama said I should ask you ’cause you know all about animals.”

  He thought that one over, seeking logic and finding none. “Maybe Lorabeth should answer that one. She knows more about God than I do.”

  Lorabeth turned to give him a look that said, Thanks a lot.

  Caleb and Ellie exchanged amused glances in the front. Ben gave Lorabeth an innocent smile. Her tawny gaze held a measure of amusement.

  “Some things we just don’t know,” Lorabeth replied easily. “God is much wiser than all of us, so if He thought fleas were a good idea, who are we to question Him?”

  Ben was highly impressed when Lillith calmly accepted that answer and resumed her seat.

  He made sure he maneuvered his duties so that he was in the kitchen with Lorabeth as she took a ham from the oven and placed it on a platter.

  “I’ll slice,” he offered, reaching for a knife.

  She used a masher on a pan full of potatoes and whipped them until they were fluffy.

  “So you had a good time with Carter last night?” he asked as though it was of no concern to him one way or the other.

  “Mr. Tibbs is quite nice. Did you have a chance to say hello this morning?”

  “We acknowledged each other.” He stacked slices of meat. “I trust he was a gentleman.”

  “Very much so. He was attentive and thoughtful.”

  “Lorabeth.”

  His serious tone caught her full attention. She turned a wide-eyed gaze on him.

  “I’m concerned for you. You’re not used to the pranks and the games. You’ve led a very sheltered life.”

  “Why are you concerned?” She frowned. “Are you disapproving of me wanting to make friends and have fun?”

  “Of course not,” he answered quickly. “It’s just that, well, I’d feel responsible if anything were to happen. I introduced you to these people. You’re too unworldly to know the dangers.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “What are they?”

  The deeply buried memory of a dark night many years ago throbbed to life, seizing Ben’s mind and voice. All the helplessness and horror flashed into his awareness now. At a loss for words, he was relieved when Ellie joined them, her clothing changed.

  She donned an apron. “My, aren’t the two of you an efficient team?”

  She squeezed Ben around the waist affectionately and gave Lorabeth a little hug from behind.

  Lorabeth turned to her in obvious surprise.

  “I’ll pour milk and make sure the hooligans are washed and have the table set,” Ellie said, sweeping toward the back porch and the icebox.

  Ben and Lorabeth worked in silence until Ellie returned with two pitchers and carried them to the dining room.

  Gathering his thoughts, Ben finished with the ham and wiped his hands clean. “The dangers are probably beyond your understanding,” he told Lorabeth. “Men aren’t always who or what they seem. One of them could seduce you before you knew what had happened. Or…or worse.”

  Lorabeth was stirring the contents of a pan on the stove, but she turned and stared at him. “Worse?”

  He remembered the screams. The feeble cries. “Ignore your innocence and your wishes and compromise you.”

  She gave him a puzzled look. “That’s pretty unclear.”

  His anger was actually apprehension for her safety now that he thought it through. “All the more reason to be careful.”

  “You’re truly afraid for me?”

  Now that she’d put it so baldly, he had to admit it. “I am.”

  “You know more about these things than I, Benjamin. I trust your judgment. I do so enjoy the home socials. So should I stop going?”

  “No. It’s important to you. I’ll take you. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

  Like the wolf guarding the sheep, he thought momentarily, then dashed that nagging worry away. He would keep her safe.

  “That’s kind of you.”

  “No, it’s selfish.” He’d be honest. She was honest.

  “Because?”

  “Because I don’t want to worry about you.”

  Ellie returned and peered over Lorabeth’s shoulder at the smooth dark gravy. “Perfect.”

  She reached into a cupboard for two china gravy boats and then helped pour.

  “Are you as hungry as I am?” she asked Ben.

  “Pretty hungry,” he answered.

  They picked up the platters and bowls and proceeded to the dining room.

  The wind had increased, bringing with it rain that tapped on the steamed-over windows in staccato bursts. The sound of geese overhead was a reminder of winter ahead. Inside it was warm and comfortable, and all seemed right with Ellie’s world.

  With an overwhelming sense of satisfaction, she looked from her husband to her brothers and children. Madeline lay sleeping in her wooden cradle in the corner of the room. Ellie dabbed at her eyes.

  “Something make you sad?” Caleb asked, leaning close to take her hand and touch a fingertip to her cheek.

  She shook her head and smiled through the sheen of tears. “Something makes me very, very happy,” she said. “You’ve made me happy, Caleb.”

  He kissed her forehead and squeezed her hand. “I love you.”

  Their family swelled around them, laughing, passing food, and Caleb turned to take the warm roll Anna was pushing at him.

  Ellie glanced from her husband to her brothers. Flynn was as happy and carefree as a lad his age should be, thanks to Caleb. And thanks to Ben.

  She turned her attention to Ben, and her pleasure dimmed ever so slightly. The picture of him as a skinny, terrified eight-year-old flitted across her memory, replaced by images of formative years and teen years, and his contorted and perspiring, gaunt face the night he’d offered his life in exchange for hers.

  She probably understood her brother better than he knew himself. He thought he had all his ducks in a row. He held himself in strict judgment to prove he was a person who mattered. Being hard on himse
lf somehow made up for their past and the sins of others.

  Ben took slices of ham for himself and Lillith and sliced Lillith’s into bite-size pieces. Each of these children had cut through his defenses right to his heart. How much more would it take for a woman to do the same?

  Ellie’s gaze moved to Lorabeth. Ben had never shown interest in a particular woman before, and Ellie understood his hesitation. He’d seen too much during his formative years, things that had skewed his perspective of men and women. He wouldn’t want to do the same things he hated in others.

  Inside Ben was a tender heart seeking acceptance, a wounded soul needing fulfillment. Caleb’s love had mended Ellie’s emotional wounds. Love would do the same for her brother.

  Chapter Nine

  Ben felt so much better about the situation with Lorabeth that he slept all night without the recurring dreams that normally haunted him, dreams in which he was helpless to protect the people he loved. This morning he awoke refreshed. As a rule he liked Mondays because they represented a fresh start on a week.

  He was making rounds of his caged patients when a familiar buggy pulled close to the barn. He recognized Suzanne Evans. She had a man with her this time.

  The tall, sandy-haired fellow assisted her to the ground and they walked toward Ben. The man wore an expression of puzzlement and concern. Something about him, about the impressive width of his shoulders and sheen of his fair hair in the sun struck Ben as oddly familiar, though he knew he’d never laid eyes on the man before. Unexplainable apprehension nagged at his gut.

  “Mrs. Evans,” Ben said, striding forward. “Is Minnie in trouble again?”

  “No, Doctor. I’ve brought my husband.”

  “I’m not a people doctor, ma’am. That’s my brother-in-law’s job.”

  “I know,” she answered. “Wes isn’t ill.”

  Ben’s attention traveled from Suzanne to the man standing beside her. That strange and uncomfortable sensation crept up his spine and raised the hair on his neck. “Who are you?”

  “Maybe we should sit down,” the man suggested.

  Stiffly, Ben pointed to the front of the house, and Suzanne headed for the porch. He followed a few steps behind Wes. “Chairs are dusty,” Ben said. “Don’t sit here much.”