Rumors and Promises (45 page)

Sophie trembled in his arms. “I-I am weary of running. I wanted to stay in Stone Creek. With you.” Her amber eyes sought assurance in his gaze as they pulled apart.

“Will you become my wife, then? I love you, Sophie. I can’t imagine life without you.” Ian entangled his fingers in her warm locks. He used his thumb to smooth her forehead, lined with worry, and then kissed the spot he’d rubbed. “I will call a special meeting so that we can deal with the situation, but either way, I will not leave you.”

“Then, yes, I will marry you. I want to live an honest life and for Caira to have a father.” The crooked little smile, which always charmed Ian, appeared on her face.

“One more thing. Are you willing to contact your mother at least?” Ian moved to sit next to his beloved.

Sophie nodded. “I think I’m ready for that.”

“’Cowmick, I wan’ up!” Caira toddled into the parlor and scrambled to get on his lap.

“Say ‘please.’” Sophie smiled.

“I’m sorry, Reverend. Caira got away when I turned my back for a second.” Esther huffed and puffed in the doorway.

“It’s fine now.” He pulled Caira to a secure position on his lap, overjoyed he would soon become her stepfather.

Esther nodded and turned toward the kitchen.

“Sophie, if you’ll allow me, I would like to legally adopt Caira when it’s possible.”

“Nothing could please me more.” She beamed up at him.

“It’s about time the three of us became a little family. Don’t you think?” If the Lord had seen fit to become a true Father to him, then the least Ian could do was bring Caira fully into the
McCormick clan. The little one answered by taking her thumb out of her mouth and hugging him around the neck.

“Love ‘ou, ’Cowmick.” Caira’s head went down on his shoulder. She may not have fully understood what he asked, but her affectionate response spoke volumes to his very heart.

CHAPTER 26

T
he following Sunday afternoon, Sophie sat stiffly in the front pew, daring to steal only an occasional glance toward those behind her. Her heart pulsed hard in her chest. She wrung her hands in her lap. Her white cotton gloves were dampened with sweat. Sophie imagined that this was how the accused felt in a courtroom.

According to Nora, her Aunt Gertrude would have none of what the Gloucesters shared with those in the foyer the week before. She wouldn’t believe Sophie was an innocent victim any more than her father had at the time. When Sophie walked down the side aisle, Cecilia and Helena held their noses in the air and turned their faces away from her. Only Nora and James held a light of sympathy in their eyes as they watched her.
Lord, I know with your grace only will I be able to do this.

She glimpsed Gertrude Wringer seated with her sour-faced cohorts. Her timid husband grimaced and shook his head. In fact, he sat up a little straighter than usual. Sophie didn’t know some of the people who had gathered on the front steps of the church earlier and poured into the back of the sanctuary.

She wanted to support Ian, to clear her name, and stay in Stone Creek—not start a riot. The crowd mumbled and pointed.
She might as well be wearing a scarlet letter, but the meeting was fair game as the evening’s entertainment. Hanging her head, she attempted to take a deep breath, but her throat tightened.

Gloria slid gracefully into the pew next to Sophie, with Asa by her side. “We are with you.” Her dear friend took her hand.

Sophie heard the rustle of skirts and turned to find Maggie settling in next to her on the opposite side. She took Sophie’s other hand. And Caira was safe in Esther’s care. Sophie had to smile for a moment about the love that had been poured out on her.

Elisha Whitworth, the head elder, walked up to the pulpit. “Let’s open our meeting in prayer.” He bowed his head, asking for God’s wisdom and blessing.

His whiskers shook as he sniffed, his voice hitched, and he paused. Though Elisha seemed at times to be nothing more than a roughened farmer, with a face lined from hard work in the sun, his compassionate side couldn’t be hidden at that moment. “I believe that Reverend McCormick has something to say in defense of his betrothed, Miss Biddle.” Elisha nodded toward Ian.

“Thank you.” Ian acknowledged him and approached the pulpit. A beautifully carved walnut cross, polished to a shine, hung on the wall behind him. A large Bible lay opened in front of him. They embodied God’s grace and law to Sophie. By which would the people judge them? She breathed a silent prayer for God’s aid.

Maggie tightened her grip and winked. “Listen to my brother.”

Ian cleared his throat. He stood straight, his face set toward the congregation, both hands holding fast to the sides of the pulpit. He glanced toward Sophie, hope emanating from his eyes. He had never endeared himself to her more than he did at that moment.

“There are times in life when circumstances take place that are beyond our control. We have examples of women who were hurt by men in our holy scriptures.” He paused. A murmur spread through the sanctuary.

“But even those who had been caught in sin, whether the woman caught in adultery or the woman at the well, how did Jesus treat them? He ministered to them. He spoke to those who had been banished from society, he offered them hope and life in Himself.

“My betrothed is Miss Sophia Bidershem, whom you know as Sophie Biddle. You may have heard some rumors about her, but I want to give you the facts. Shall we judge her, a young woman who did not deserve what happened to her? Sophie was a victim of a vile act done to her by someone she trusted. Yet she had the character to not desert her child.” Ian reached his right arm in her direction. “She is an honorable woman, and my commitment to marry her will not change.”

The congregation sat silent, but for a few gasps. Tension charged the air.

“Humph.”

Sophie turned toward the noise. Yes, Mrs. Wringer stood.

“How do we know that she didn’t invite such behavior?” She pointed a bony finger at Sophie. “That our pastor is not deceived by an evil woman’s charms?”

Etta and Millie whispered and nodded their heads.

“Now, wait just a moment.” Elisha’s voice boomed from the platform. “You’ll have your turn. Sit down, Gertrude.”

Ian’s eyebrows knit together. His eyes clouded with a faraway look. He gripped the podium and his pained gaze drifted toward Sophie. As she watched the meeting unfold, her heart felt torn piece by piece.

A reddish-purple shade colored Gertrude’s face. “What is this meeting for? When are we going to show that this man is incompetent and get rid of him?”

Sophie wrenched her hands from the grasps of her friends. She stood and marched toward the front but stayed down on the step
in front of the platform. “I’m sorry, Elder Whitworth, but I must say something.”

He shrugged and nodded. The people’s voices rose in the confusion.

“Please! Please listen to what I have to say!” Sophie straightened to her full height and stood on her tiptoes for a moment. The audience quieted. “Reverend Ian McCormick has done nothing deserving of your censure. He is a godly man. It’s because of his love for the Lord that he took Caira and me under his wing.” Sophie clasped her hands together, lifting them as though in prayer. “If anyone should be blamed, it is I.”

“So she admits it! Do we need anything more than this sinner’s own admission of guilt?” The Wringer woman sprang from her seat again.

Sophie turned to see the withering look Elisha gave Gertrude as he stepped forward. “Let Miss Bidershem finish speaking!”

Gertrude’s chin went up as she defied the elder, staring back at him and pointing at Sophie. “And furthermore—”

“Th-that’s enough, Gertie, dear.” His voice squeaked, but Edmund stood, uncharacteristically putting his hands on his wife’s shoulders in public. “Sit down and give the young lady a chance to finish.” Sophie had never seen such a stormy look in this usually henpecked husband’s eyes. Gasps went up around the audience.

“But—” The woman turned red with rage more than embarrassment, Sophie was sure.

“As an elder of this church, I’m telling you it’s time to sit and
listen.
Now, would you want the good people of Stone Creek to think of you as anything less than the fine God-fearing, churchgoing woman you are?”

Snickers arose around the sanctuary.

Mrs. Wringer crossed her arms, all the while glaring at her husband and then at Elisha Whitworth. She plopped down in the
pew, sitting with her back ironing board straight, having shrugged off Edmund’s touch.

Mr. Wringer nodded toward Elder Whitworth and pulled a crisp white handkerchief from his breast pocket. He wiped visible beads of sweat from his forehead.

Had Sophie imagined it? Or did the poor man look relieved?

The head elder gestured toward Sophie. “Please continue, Miss Bidershem.”

She cleared her throat. “I should never have deceived the good people of Stone Creek. You have been so gracious to Caira and to me. Please forgive me. I only wanted my daughter to have the chance I had lost … one for a pure and normal life. But I believed that no one would love her the way I do. Rather than put her in an orphanage, I fabricated a lie to protect our reputations. Yes, a very sorry lie with no rational excuses.” She could not have stopped the flow of hot, salty tears from pouring down her cheeks, even if she wanted to. “I should have known that no such deception could ever accomplish what I hoped without consequences.

“Please don’t make a mistake in dismissing this kindhearted man. He did nothing unseemly in his behavior toward me. If anything, I will leave Stone Creek. I did nothing purposely to bring on my misfortune, but I will not allow my reputation to besmirch Reverend McCormick’s … or that of the church and any attached ministries.”

A commotion stirred far in the back. A man whom Sophie hadn’t noticed before stood and moved forward through the crowd. A petite woman followed him. He spoke up. “We can vouch for Sophia.”

Sophie’s mouth fell open. She stood mesmerized, unbelieving. “Papa?” She blinked. “Mama?” Sophie stepped back and swayed a bit.

Papa looked thinner, grayer. He nodded and opened his arms. “My daughter did nothing evil. If anything, we didn’t protect her enough. I’m so sorry, sweetheart, for not listening to you.”

One by one, the prickly nettles of bitterness and anger fell from Sophie’s heart. Her father had come to her defense! She ran down the center aisle toward them both and into their embrace.

“My dear baby. It really is you. I’ve missed you so.” Her mother swallowed hard. She put her hand alongside Sophie’s cheek.

“Mama, I’m so glad to see you.”

Her father piped up. “For this young man, your Reverend McCormick, to stand by our daughter, despite the situation, shows a measure of rare character. You’d be a fool to let him go.”

“He better stand by my little sister.” A clenched fist smacked into the palm of her brother’s open hand.

“Paul? You’re here, too?” Sophie finally noticed her brother standing near James, who wrote fiercely with a stubby pencil. Paul’s face split with a large grin. They were together again as a family, except for her younger brother, Ernest, who had died from a fever as a child. As she thought of ever losing Caira, her heart squeezed with grief. Sophie noticed the tears in Mama’s eyes. How much pain she must have caused her mother!

The crowd around them burst into discussion. To Sophie, only her family and Ian existed at that moment.