Fields of Fire (21 page)

A few moments later, the weathered, white church doors shut with a bang and music began. She turned to see the Reverend, puffy-cheeked and pole-like in physique, merrily make his way up the aisle to a simple pulpit in a corner near the altar. He folded his hands across his prayer book and patiently waited for the woman to finish playing the harpsichord.

As she played the last few notes, the Reverend spoke loudly, “Welcome to the House of the Lord once again. And a very special welcome to our three visitors this day. I am Reverend Shelbourne.”

Everyone in front of them turned around to stare. Some faces wore smiles, others were blank. She smiled and noticed that Hug sat stiff and expressionless while Taylor grinned like a mischievous school lad. His dimple was as deep as she’d ever seen it, and apparently he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

The Reverend continued, “We are pleased to have you, especially since you have chosen this day of catechization. Our congregation is considerably larger than this, but I must be honest and say when examination days are posted, attendance drops.” The Reverend left the pulpit and faced the altar. With the prayer book in one hand, he stretched his arms heavenward. “May God grant you extra blessings and good tidings for your loyalty and presence this morn.” He whirled around and confronted the congregation with a smile on his face that suggested he loved his work. “We will begin with ...”

“I told you, I told you,” Hug whispered to her. “It’s happening already. I’m a visitor, but he’ll call on me just the same. It’s the devil’s doing.”

Red dots broke out on Hug’s face in spite of the powder. “Be calm,” she encouraged. “You’re supposed to be positive, remember? He won’t call on you, but if he should, just answer logically.” Hug fidgeted in reply, and although she would never admit it to him, she too was a bit uncomfortable about this catechization. Religion was hardly unfamiliar to her, but at times her mind wandered and she missed the point of the sermon. She glanced at Taylor who was oblivious to either of them as he listened to the Reverend.

One parishioner after another was called upon and questioned about God’s word and will. Hug gradually relaxed when it did indeed appear that they would not be examined. She too, was relieved until she sneezed three times in a row, and missed the question addressed to the last member to be quizzed. Whatever it was, the lad of maybe ten years, was stammering, and in grave need of assistance.

The Reverend cast his attention in their direction. “Perhaps one of our visitors might like to help the lad with his reply.”

Despite the sick nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach, she grabbed Hug’s arm to offer him support. It didn’t stop the red dots on his face from reappearing, or prevent sweat from breaking out over his fake bushy brows. She returned her attention to the Reverend. This time he was staring directly at Taylor. She gazed at Taylor who rose to his feet.

“It is written in the good book that we were created in the image of God.” Taylor gestured by waving his arm over the congregation. “I say to you. Do you act accordingly? Do you wear your Sunday faces at worship only to have the demon inside you take over once you’re outside the doors of this sanctuary? Worship alone does not make one more Godlike. There are many who have never met our Lord who act more in his image than those who know Him. Look to yourselves, I say, and act accordingly.” A repetitious round of amens sounded throughout the church.

“Amen, amen, my son,” Reverend Shelbourne added. “I couldn’t have said it better. Be seated, my son. Let us all bow our head in prayer.”

She bowed her head and closed her eyes. Although she still had no idea what question the Reverend had asked the lad, Taylor had answered it satisfactorily.

“Go with God.” The Reverend ended the prayer, and the harpsichord started up.

The parishioners began singing. She stole a peak at Taylor who caught her and winked. She smiled, leaned toward him and whispered, “It seems you missed your calling.”

He leaned toward her and whispered back, “I feared Hug might pass out, and I was getting a bit restless myself. We needed a quick ending.”

She nodded, relieved that this ordeal was over. But she was still somewhat baffled by his speech. He knew a lot more religion than she expected.

The singing continued as the Reverend made his way down the aisle to stand at the entryway. When the music ended, one by one the people filed out of the pews and chatted with the Reverend on their way out the door.

He ushered them quickly along, saying he’d talk with them more at the picnic later. With Hug still in a stupor, the three stood to one side occasionally conversing with those leaving.

When the last member departed, Taylor approached the Reverend and held out his hand. The Reverend took it in both of his and said, “I’m glad to have you here today, especially the way you uplifted this congregation, but I can’t help but feel there’s a reason.” He released Taylor’s hand to take hers. “Your sister?” he asked.

“Ah, aye. She acts as any sister would.”

She knew what he meant and let him know it with a stepping on his toe. “Oh, sorry,” she said.

“Who is this aged gentleman?” Reverend Shelbourne held his hand out to Hug.

“A long-time friend of the family.” Hug, for the first time since the Reverend had announced catechization, spoke and acted like himself. He gave the Reverend’s hand a hearty shake.

“And what family might that be?” the Reverend asked.

“Forgive the intrigue,” Taylor said, taking control of the conversation. “Due to the delicate nature of our mission, we can’t reveal our identity, but we hope it will suffice to say we are working for the government and would much appreciate your trust and understanding.”

“My mission is to teach the word of God. I generally don’t like to get involved with politics. But go on,” the Reverend said.

“Do you have a person named Looney buried in your cemetery? If so, we’d like you to show us the grave.”

“Come outside,” the Reverend said to them and closed the weather-battered church doors.

They stood in the sunshine. She hoped this wouldn’t take long, as it was becoming uncomfortable in the early summer warmth with the hood of her head and cloak wrapped securely around her.

“A gentleman, a cousin of the dead Looney, asked the same thing of me. He showed me a will—a very official document, I assure you. This Looney bequeathed something to the gentleman, but strangely enough, requested it be buried near the grave stone.”

Inwardly, she beamed with excitement, but remained quiet. Both Taylor and Hug displayed a confidence and calmness that reflected their experience. She knew better than to interfere, and she followed suit.

“And did the gentleman find what he was searching for?” Taylor asked.

“First let me explain. I don’t allow just anyone who asks to come and dig up my graveyard, but the dead man himself willed it, and the box would remain untouched. This uncle also brought flowers and gave a considerable donation to replace the grasses around the marker. He was a nice gentleman all right, and his woman quite lovely, though she didn’t say much.”

“Was this woman rather well endowed?” Hug blurted out.

She was surprised that Hug had broken his cool facade. She watched as he realized to whom he had asked such a question.

“I don’t make it a habit of noticing the female anatomy. However, it would be hard to miss such a substantial bosom.” He put a skinny hand to his mouth and coughed in discomfort.

Not liking where this conversation was leading, she spoke up, “Can you show us the grave site now?”

Reverend Shelbourne took a step in the direction of the wrought-iron gate to the cemetery near the side of the church.

“Wait,” Taylor said. “That may not be necessary. Just tell us what he dug up.”

“That’s the strange part of it. He dug all around the marker, but found nothing.” The Reverend rubbed his chin. “It was all rather queer. Like the dead Looney was jesting with the man. I said a quick prayer right then and there for the dead and for our Lord to forgive us. I wouldn’t want the dead or our Lord angry with us.”

“What did the couple do next?” Taylor asked.

“What could they do? He merely thanked me for my trouble and left. I felt he was quite furious. Underneath, I think the man might be violent. I don’t know for sure, mind you, but I said another prayer for our Lord to watch over him.”

“Thank you, Reverend. You’ve been most helpful.” Taylor wiped the perspiration off his forehead with his fingers.

The Reverend studied Taylor before he glanced from Hug to herself. “You’re overdressed for this warm day. Shed those outer wraps and join us for our picnic.”

“Thank you, but we must pass. Your kindness is most appreciated. I’m sure there’s a seat in heaven for you at the Lord’s table. Good day.” Taylor nodded his farewell.

“My dear.” The Reverend in turn nodded at her and passed.

“Farewell,” she said.

“Good day and thank you,” Hug said. “This day I won’t soon forget.”

“Go with God, old man.”

The three stood in silence until the Reverend was lost from view. Hug grabbed Jalene and gave her one of his barrel hugs. “You were right. It was all in my thinking. You’re wonderful.” He released her momentarily to kiss her on the cheek before he hugged her again.

Breathless and astounded by Hug’s actions, all she managed to say was that she was happy to have been of assistance. Taylor eyed her as if she had committed a mortal sin. Yet, as soon as he did so, he acted as if he remembered something, and he said, “It’s getting late. We’d better be off.”

“But where to?” Hug asked with his arm still around Jalene’s waist.

It made her a bit uncomfortable, but she didn’t want to upset Hug’s ecstatic mood, so she allowed it.

“To White Wylie’s to ask Wil where the map really is. Donnegan doesn’t know Wil is alive, but we do. He should be conscious by now, and I have a feeling that map will answer a lot of questions for us.” He cheerfully strode off to the carriage.

She, on the other hand, was not so happy to know that once Taylor found the map, her brother would possibly be implicated.

Chapter 14

“What do you mean he’s gone?” Taylor asked White Wylie as he waited for the light-haired man to explain. “Where? How did he go?”

That unexpected news was the first bit of information Wylie told them after it dawned on him who they were. When they arrived and learned Wylie was not at the house, the three tramped around to the other side of the bleaching fields to the drying house, a structure built with louvered windows to create a draft. Inside they found Wylie inspecting the rails where the cloth was to be hung to dry.

“I know it hasn’t been two full days that ye left him in my care, and for that I’m feeling poorly.” Wylie wrung his hands. “There was no stopping the man, though, as I just didn’t know. When he gained consciousness, I told him where he was and answered some of his questions. It wasn’t but this very morn I discovered him gone. He left on foot as no animals were taken.”

“But he couldn’t have been well enough to travel,” Jalene interjected with concern, “Especially on foot.”

“That depends on what his plans were. I’m sorry.” Wylie shook his head to emphasize his words. “Whatever his reasons, it was important enough to cause him to flee.”

“Bloody hell,” Taylor abruptly spun around and almost bumped into Hug, who stood close behind him. “Sorry,” he said and addressed White Wylie. “Do you have any idea where he might have gone?”

“Nay, but I thought it strange the night before, that he made such a point of thanking me for my hospitality. Not just once, but often. I should have suspected something.”

“I don’t suppose Wil mentioned anything about a map to you,” Hug half-heartedly asked Wylie.

Wylie shook his head.

“It would have been nice,” Hug said. “I’m certain that map would have saved us a lot of time.”

“I agree,” Taylor said, “but we don’t have it. We’ll need to make Donnegan come to us. Therefore, our original plan stands.”

“Did Wil leave any messages for me at all?” Jalene asked, feeling distraught.

“Nay, but he did inquire as to whether ye were safe and well cared for. Nothing more. Again, I am sorry.”

She rubbed her forehead. Her legs wobbled as though her weight had suddenly increased threefold. She drew in a deep breath, trying to control her emotions. “What will become of him? He’s not well enough to ...” She decided against saying anything further. What good would it do? “Wylie, I’d like to go lie down. May I rest in the same guest room you put me up in once before?”

“Aye, by all means. I’ll have your traveling bag brought in later.”

She turned without speaking another word to Taylor or Hug and left the room.

“Poor lady. She’s hurting for her friend, and there’s naught we can do,” Hug said.

Taylor pursed his lips and nodded. Wil’s rapid departure had raised some suspicions as to his motives. Why would he flee, when he needed to regain his strength, and Donnegan thought him dead anyway? Perhaps, he was a lot more involved than Jalene knew.

“Quit looking at me like that.” Hug lightly cuffed Wylie on the shoulder. “Haven’t you ever seen an old man before?”

“Aye, but the three of ye together are quite a sight to behold. It would be hard to miss ye, especially the lady. And listen here.” He lightly back-handed Hug in the belly before he practically stuck his finger up Taylor’s nose pointing it at him. “I’ve seen ye do some crazy things, and I’ve never questioned ye. ‘Tis not me place, but I’d be feeling better if I say, she’s a lady ye have all garbed up as a common piece. Best ye remember she is a lady, and treat her so!”

“Wylie, next to my father, you’re one of the few I’d let get away with talking to me like that, but I understand your fondness for her, and you happen to be right.” Although agreeing with Wylie eased Taylor’s conscience somewhat, it didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t been treating her like the lady she was.

She was an innocent, ripe for the pickings, and he had taken liberties with her. Bloody hell, in the past he’d never preyed on women in distress or treated ladies with so little regard to their station. She deserved to be courted properly, like every other lady of her class. Yet, he sensed he had the upper hand over her emotions and knew he was using it to his advantage. Still, she wanted him. She wouldn’t admit it, but he felt her desire in the way she responded to him; it excited him, and made him want her all the more—more than he’d wanted any woman in a long time. Damn it. That was the problem. She was a lady and not the common whore she was portraying.