One More Chance (Truly Yours Digital Editions Book 296) Read online

  “Well!” she began in her usual crisp, no-nonsense tone. “It’s a new day dawning for Springton! Today begins a new chapter!”

  Rachel frowned after her. “What do you mean?”

  “The reverend, of course!” She grabbed an apron from behind the counter and pulled it over her head. “His brand of religion has poisoned these gullible folks’ minds long enough. As I see it, it’s time for new blood around here!”

  “Addie!” Rachel gasped. “I thought you liked the reverend.”

  Addie snorted. “Where did you get that fool idea? I tolerated the man, that’s what I did! Ain’t no hard-nosed man going to keep Adelaide Hayes from going to church, no sir! And after what he did to you?” She shook her head in disgust. “Like I said, it’s time for new blood. That’s why I put myself on the nominating committee! ’Course, old Harold Ray didn’t like the idea of a woman being on their committee one bit! But I told him he couldn’t stop me!” She grinned at that. Rachel knew that Addie liked nothing better than getting Harold Ray’s goat.

  “I don’t understand why you and Harold Ray don’t go and get yourselves married. You two fight like you’ve been married twenty years already!” she teased.

  Addie gave Rachel a wide-eyed look. “Goodness no, child! If we got hitched, we just might start getting along! Then I would have nothing left to look forward to! I’m an old woman, Rachel Branigan. I have to take my entertainment anywhere I can get it!”

  They both laughed at that, then Addie went to the back storeroom to get some canned goods to restock the shelves. Rachel watched her go and her smile slowly faded into a worried frown.

  She dearly hoped that the reason Addie didn’t openly court Harold Ray had nothing to do with Caitlin and herself. Sometimes Rachel wished that she could support herself in some way other than working in Addie’s store; that way, maybe Addie wouldn’t feel so responsible for her and Caitlin.

  Addie came back into the store with an armload of canned beans and Rachel went over to help her place them on the shelves.

  Please, God, Rachel prayed, help me not to be a burden to Addie. Make a way where there is no way. . . .

  ❧

  One Month Later

  Santa Fe

  Caleb Joseph Stone neatly folded the last one of his shirts and placed it into the leather trunk. He glanced about the room that he’d occupied for the last three years, and after deciding that he had packed everything, closed the trunk and snapped it shut.

  An ironic smile curved his lips and he shook his head. C. J. Stone wouldn’t have been caught dead traveling around with a gentleman’s trunk. What he couldn’t pack in his saddlebags, he didn’t take with him. He ran his hands over his new clothes and fingered the tie at his neck. Nor would C. J. be wearing a Sunday-go-to-meetin’ suit, either!

  But Caleb Stone, the preacher, would.

  It all still seemed unbelievable to him. If a man had asked him three years ago, before the Jenkins incident, if he would ever consider becoming a man of the cloth, C. J. probably would have shot him!

  That day had forever changed his life.

  After the Jenkins gang had cleared out of town, the townsfolk had slowly emerged from their hiding places and curiously gathered around his bloody, prone body lying face-down in the dust.

  They had thought he was dead. The undertaker had already started making his way out to collect the remains and prepare the body for burial.

  That’s when his salvation came.

  Reverend George and Mary Ellis had broken through the crowd, declared him still living, and then carried him home with them.

  They never gave up hope. Even after the doctor extracted the bullets from his body and told them that he didn’t think the gunslinger would live, they had kept on believing and praying. As the injured man lay unconscious, he heard their prayers.

  And he had lived. Everyone declared it a miracle. They couldn’t believe the clean-cut gentleman walking through the church doors one Sunday morning was the same man who had been gunned down months before.

  Every day, after his recovery, C. J. had told himself that this was the day he would pack up and ride out of there. But the day would pass and he would find himself still residing with the Ellises. At first he didn’t know what drew him to them. All he knew was that, before, he had no one to care for him or to worry after him; but here, he was loved. The Ellises didn’t seem to care about what kind of man he was, how dangerous it was to house someone like him. The Jenkins gang could have found out from anyone in town that he still lived, and that would have been the end of things; Jenkins probably would have ridden in and killed them all.

  The longer he was around George and Mary Ellis, the more C. J. wanted what they had. He wanted the peace and contentment they possessed. He wanted to know this God that they kept talking about. The only time he had heard the name of God mentioned in his lifetime was when someone had used it as a curse.

  Caleb knew he didn’t want to return to his former way of living. It was a lonely, worthless existence. He wanted to do something with the life God gave him, to help someone like the Ellises had helped him.

  When he finally made the decision to become a minister, it hadn’t been all that difficult. It had seemed like the most natural decision in the world. He couldn’t wait to have his own church, to teach people like the reverend had taught him. He had so much love stored up in his heart that he had only begun to give it out. The time to begin was now! He was ready.

  “Are you nearly packed?” Mary Ellis asked from the doorway.

  Caleb turned and gave the woman, who had been like a mother to him for the past three years, a smile. “Near ’bout,” he replied.

  Mary drifted on into the room and picked up a couple of his shirts and placed them in his traveling bag. “It sure is going to be lonesome here without you,” she mentioned casually. “I remember when you came here. You had some of the coldest, meanest eyes I’ve ever seen and you near ’bout gave me a fright every time you spoke.”

  She looked him over from head to toe. “Now look at you. So tall and distinguished, those green eyes of yours just a-gleaming with warmth and goodness.” She shook her head wryly. “I still think that hair of yours could use a good barber, but at least you shaved off that horrible mustache.”

  Caleb chuckled. “How did you say I looked? Like an outlaw?”

  “Well, with all those stories you’ve told me about your gunslinger days, I wasn’t too far off the mark!”

  “Well, thanks to you and George, all that’s changed now.” He paused and thought before he asked a question. “Do you think that I’ll do all right in Springton?”

  Mary gave Caleb a maternal pat on the back. “Caleb, the way God has blessed you with your gift for talkin’, those folks in Springton are going to love you. Just look at how the people here in Santa Fe responded to your preaching! You even had old buzzard Grisham’s attention. He hasn’t managed to stay awake for a whole sermon in ten years!”

  Caleb smiled and proceeded to buckle his travel bag. “Well, it’s not my doing. I can feel God moving through me when I’m up there in the pulpit. It’s not my words I’m speaking but Him speaking through me,” he said modestly.

  “You’re a good man, Caleb Stone. And just remember that God can work anything out, when you come up against tribulations. Because you will have them. Especially in a town like Springton.”

  Caleb studied Mary’s worried face. “You’re thinking about your brother again.”

  Mary nodded. “Being the sister of the Reverend Cecil Parker is not something I’m proud of. And I’ve heard that his religious snobbery has rubbed off on a lot of his former congregation. I just want you to be careful and not let them discourage you.”

  Caleb reached out and gave her a hug. “I’ll be all right, Miss Mary. Don’t you worry about me, okay?” he said in his husky drawl. “I reckon it’s those poor ol’ Texas folk that you need to be worrying about, getting an old gunslinger for a preacher.”

  She pushed awa
y from him and planted her fist on her ample hips. “Now don’t you go talking like that, son. Those folks don’t know what you used to be and if you’re smart, you won’t tell them. That old part doesn’t matter anymore. You’re like Saul in the Bible. Once God changed him and gave him the new name of Paul, it didn’t matter what he had been. It only mattered what he did with himself after that.”

  He chuckled and held up his hands in mock surrender. “All right, all right! I give up!” She joined in his laughter and then gasped in surprise when he reached over to plant a kiss on her cheek. “I love you, Miz Mary. I don’t reckon I’ve ever told anybody that, but you’ve been like a mama to me. I won’t ever forget it,” he told her solemnly, his green eyes reflecting his feelings.

  She flustered about a bit, a little embarrassed but profoundly honored to receive such a compliment. “I love you, too, son. Now, go on and get your bag and your trunk out to that wagon. George is out there waitin’.”

  He grinned and gave her a wink before reaching for his trunk.

  two

  “What do you mean you won’t buy my eggs?” the small but feisty little woman demanded, pointing to the basket whose contents were in question.

  Rachel, standing across from her, took a deep breath and mentally counted to ten. This woman definitely knew how to make Rachel’s Irish temper flare. “Mrs. Hawthorn, I cannot buy any more of your bantam eggs because I can’t sell them. People want the larger eggs. These are too small,” she explained slowly and carefully.

  “Humpft!” the woman snorted. “And who, Miss High-and-Mighty, put you in charge of these things? I want to talk to Adelaide about this! I reckon she’ll set this matter straight!”

  Rachel’s chin rose a half an inch and she glared down at the Hawthorn woman. “Mrs. Hayes isn’t here. I was left in charge.”

  “Where is she?” the woman demanded.

  “She’s getting the parsonage ready for the new minister. And I doubt she has time to be disturbed!”

  Mrs. Hawthorn narrowed her beady eyes and shook her finger in Rachel’s face. “This ain’t the end of this, missy. You just see if it ain’t!” she declared, then proceeded to march toward the door.

  Her path was blocked, however, by the tall, nicely dressed gentleman who stood in the doorway; neither woman had seen or heard him enter.

  Caleb Stone swiftly stepped aside, seeing that the elderly lady had no intention of stopping.

  For a moment Caleb stared after the older woman, then he looked back to the girl standing at the counter. He couldn’t help but smile with amusement at the scene he’d just witnessed.

  His smile froze, however, as his vision became adjusted to the dimmer light inside the store, giving him a clear view of the woman with the long black hair. She was absolutely beautiful.

  If this isn’t the prettiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, I’ll eat my hat! He stopped just short of saying it out loud.

  He realized he was staring at her when he noticed the blush that suddenly tinged her cheeks.

  He blinked and cleared his throat, embarrassed that he’d been standing there like an idiot. Caleb walked over to her and extended his hand. “My name is Caleb Stone, ma’am. I’m new to Springton.”

  “Hello, Mr. Stone,” the woman answered, her voice floating over him like summer rain. She reached out and placed her hand in his.

  The feel of her warm palm touching his own sent a tingle up his arm that seemed to reach his heart. He couldn’t help lowering his head and brushing a kiss along the back of her hand.

  But when he heard her gasp, his head snapped up. Her face had grown even redder and she seemed shocked at what he’d done. It suddenly occurred to Caleb that kissing a lady’s hand might not be the sort of thing a minister practiced. Then another thought formed. In his whole life, Caleb never once had courted a decent woman. His experience usually had consisted of those ladies of somewhat shady reputation. They were the only ones who would have anything to do with a gunslinger anyway.

  This was a dilemma.

  Slowly he let go of her hand and fixed a polite smile on his face. Never before had he been nervous around a woman. Well, there was a first time for everything, because he was practically shaking in his boots!

  The second that the gentleman entered the store, Rachel had felt something stir in her heart. Everything about him appealed to her. The neatly combed but overlong hair, his warm green eyes, the lopsided grin, the way he stood so straight and tall, even the way he loosely held his hat in his hands. He was a very handsome man.

  And when he’d bent his head to kiss her hand, her heart had nearly pounced right out of her chest. She couldn’t control the gasp that escaped her lips.

  She quickly dropped her gaze and tried to compose herself. For a moment she had almost let herself believe that a gentleman like this Caleb Stone could be interested in her.

  It was no use fooling herself. Once he found out about Caitlin and the fact that she was an unwed mother, he wouldn’t come around kissing her hand anymore.

  Rachel cleared her throat. “Was there something. . . um. . .something I could help you find, Mr. Stone? In the store, that is?” Her voice didn’t shake, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

  Now he knew he’d overstepped his boundaries. He could instantly feel the barrier she had erected around herself. He wondered if an apology would do any good.

  He decided, instead, to act like it hadn’t happened. “You know, you never did tell me your name.”

  Rachel finally did raise her blue gaze to his. Bash-fully she returned his smile. “Rachel. My name is Rachel Branigan.”

  “Rachel Branigan,” he repeated slowly, savoring each word and committing it to memory. “Well, Miss Rachel Branigan, the pleasure is all mine.”

  She nodded her head and once again lowered her gaze back down to the counter in front of her. An awkward silence followed, both of them searching for something to say.

  Caleb wondered if that bullet that had hit his head had done some real damage after all. He was as nervous and awkward as a schoolboy. He could only thank God that he wasn’t packing a gun anymore. The way he was feeling, he would probably shoot himself in the foot!

  “Well,” Rachel began, “was there a particular item that you were looking for?”

  Caleb took a deep breath and tried to clear his muddled thoughts. “Uh. . .yes! I wanted to see about opening up an account here. I’m just moving in and there will be a few things I’ll be needing.” He grinned sheepishly. “And maybe you could help me with that, Miss Branigan. You see, I’m an old bachelor and don’t know the first thing about setting up housekeepin’!”

  She laughed and he joined in her laughter. “Not a pretty picture, I’m afraid,” he said. “Think you could lend me a hand?”

  “Stop by tomorrow. Mrs. Hayes, the owner of the store, and I will give you all the help that you need, Mr. Stone.” She reached over for the small file that held the accounts. “I’ll just need for you to give me your address and your employment information.”

  For the first time in his whole life, Caleb could proudly state what he did for a living (if he didn’t count the two years that he worked as a carpenter in Sante Fe). He was a preacher. A respected position in anyone’s opinion. So when he gave her the information that she asked for, he was a little anxious to see what kind of reaction that he would get from Miss Rachel Branigan.

  “I’ll be living in that little white house by the church. I think they call it the parsonage. You see, I’m the new minister.”

  The reaction he got was not what he’d expected. In all his life, Caleb couldn’t remember ever seeing a person turn white so fast.

  It gave him pause for a few moments. It occurred to him that maybe he’d slipped and said “bounty hunter” instead! No. He was positive he’d said “minister.”

  “Miss Branigan? Are you all right?”

  She made herself stop gaping at what he had just said. Hadn’t she known that it would be foolish to hope that he wa
s different? She had just never thought—not in a million years—that this handsome man would turn out to be a preacher!

  She forced herself to take a calming breath and then plastered a pleasant smile on her face. “Of course! I’m fine. It’s just that you don’t look like a. . .preacher.” She hoped that the last word had not sounded as bitter as it tasted on her tongue.

  Caleb gave her a searching look. “Is there a certain way a preacher is supposed to look?” he teased, obviously trying to lighten the mood that had grown leaden.

  Rachel looked at him sheepishly. “I guess that was a silly thing for me to say.”

  He smiled gently at her and said in a quiet way, “Miss Branigan, I would never think that you were silly. I’d even bet that you were rather a smart lady.”

  She looked away, embarrassed. “You don’t even know me, Mr. Stone.”

  “It’s just a hunch. I’ve found that I’m rarely wrong about these hunches.” He suddenly pulled back from the counter and placed his hat back on his head. “I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Miss Branigan.” He tipped his hat smartly and left the store.

  Rachel stared at the closed door long after the little bell attached to the top had stopped jingling.

  ❧

  Addie Hayes and her best friend, Mattie Mae Higgins, stood on the small porch of the parsonage. Addie, eyes squinting and hand shading her brow, anxiously scanned the street for anyone who might resemble a minister.

  “See him yet?” Mattie Mae asked in her scratchy voice. In an automatic motion, her hand flew to her salt and pepper hair to smooth any stray wisps.

  “Nope. Not hide nor hair of ’im,” Addie answered with a sigh. “Maybe he wasn’t on the train. Roscoe said he didn’t see anyone get off that train that looked like a preacher.”