Part 44 (1/2)
He leapt up a short set of stairs and inside. There were folks sitting in the pews, but no preacher sitting there talking to them. It was just as well, because apparently the distraction of Chris Broadmoor, the subject of a good deal of the town's gossip and rumor-mill, was too great.
He rapped on the door harder than he ought to have, and when he didn't get an answer, Chris rapped on it again. The sound of movement inside was followed a moment later by the padre opening the door. When he saw Chris's face he lost the sanguine expression he'd worn opening the door.
”Come to confess your sins?”
”No, father. I think we ought to talk inside.”
The man's expression didn't change. He didn't particularly want to talk to Chris, and Chris didn't blame him. He didn't particularly want to talk to the preacher, either, but the situation called for it either way.
”Fine,” he said, his lips pinching together. ”Make it quick.”
Chris stepped through the door. ”I don't put much stock in rumor, father, so I thought I'd come and confirm with you.”
”I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Broadmoor.”
”I'm sure you don't. Your deacon, Mr. Bradbury, was apparently talking all kinds of trash to the schoolteacher.”
”Mr. Bradbury's a good man,” was all the pastor said. But he wasn't denying it, Chris noted. And that told him what he needed to be told.
Twenty-Five.
Her day was only going to improve from here, Marie thought. After all, this late in the evening, there was no chance that things could get worse. With Jamie down for the night, she had a little time to read by lamplight, and then she'd spend another night on the couch.
She was glad for having a couch at all. A suite was far more than she ought to have expected from a town like this, and especially from a room that she shouldn't even have been in. She let out a breath, wondering when, if ever, she was going to get back into the room she had paid for over Owen's. It wasn't as if she was suffering here, but how long could repairs possibly take?
The knock at the door was soft and caught her completely by surprise. Maybe things could get worse, after all. If nothing could change, nothing could get worse. But if someone else had come to give her the business, then she wasn't in any sort of mood.
For a long time, the schoolteacher considered ignoring the knock. A second knock came a little louder. A third might have risked waking Jamie, and she wasn't going to have that.
Marie spent the few seconds it took to walk across the room mustering whatever indignation that she could find, and then put the lid on it and left it to simmer while she opened the door, ready to give whoever was on the other side of it a piece of her mind.
Chris looked as tired as she felt, and yet the second that she saw who it was, the fatigue seemed to melt away on its own.
”Oh,” she said. She didn't sound happy to see him, but the truth was that there was n.o.body who she'd rather have had on the other side of the door.
”Is this a bad time?”
”Shouldn't you be at work?”
He looked down. ”I had other things to take care of. Other people can take over.”
She'd never seen anyone else manning the counter of the saloon, though it occurred to her that she hadn't seen him doing it much, either. One of the benefits of not going into the place when she could avoid it.
”To what do I owe the pleasure?”
His face pinched together in a look that might have been frustration. ”I've been talking to folks the past couple hours.”
”Isn't that normal?”
”Not in this case, no.”
She wanted him to get to the point, but at the same time she knew that if he wasn't doing it now, he wasn't looking forward to whatever he was going to say next.
”What's the problem?”
”It's about Jamie.”
”You don't have to put any stock in them, you know,” she said. Marie settled back into her seat and looked up at him.
In the low light, Chris seemed almost larger than life, even bigger than usual. Looking up at him from where she was sitting as he paced across the room was like looking up at a DemiG.o.d, or something, she thought. Too much for any woman, certainly too much for her.
”I wouldn't, normally.”
”Then why are you worrying now?”
”You haven't been here long enough to make the connections, if n.o.body points them out.” He didn't sound like he wanted to offend her, but there was a condescending edge to what he was saying that he couldn't round off in spite of himself.
”What, you don't think I'm smart enough to know who my friends are, is that it?”
”NoI didn't say that,” he said. He looked like the comment dug in just under the skin. ”You don't know who the Padre is, do you? Talk is, you haven't been to the church, so you wouldn't know, right?”
”What's your point?” She wanted to get out of the defensive spot that she'd dug herself into, but so far she wasn't managing it. Surely he wasn't just going to bully her for no reason, but if he was going to make a point, she didn't know what it was supposed to be so far.
”That's the whole point. I don't think you know who you're dealing with, and I know you're not fool enough to lie and say you know exactly who these folks are when you don't.”
”So what are you trying to say, then?”
”What I'm trying to say is, if you think you can just ignore him, you're in for a very rude awakening.”
”What's so special about this preacher?”
”His brother's the very same territorial governor that called you out here, don't you know? That's the sort of thing that causes trouble, where I'm from. Maybe you city folks”
Her face blanched. ”So”
”So if he doesn't want you watching Jamieh.e.l.l, even teaching the kidsthen it's not just G.o.d's ears that he's got his lips to. Exactly.”
”What do we do, then?”
Chris let out a long breath. That was the question, wasn't it? Eventually, it had to come down to what they were supposed to do about it, and he didn't have an answer to that.