and her boarders.
“Fine,” Josh said. “I’ll wait with you on the porch until she’s ready.”
Dean frowned.
Adie interrupted. “I have a better idea, Mr. Dean. I’ll tell Pearl you’re concerned about her health.”
“I am.”
“If she’s up for a visit, I’ll send word to you.”
Josh watched the banker’s face. He didn’t want to leave, but Adie had given him a way out that saved his pride.
“Very well,” Dean said. “When you bring your loan payment, I’ll expect a note from Pearl.”
Adie gave a crisp nod. “I’ll speak with her.”
Dean glared at Josh, tipped his hat to Adie and walked down the path to the street. Josh followed him with his eyes, watching as he batted at a weed with his walking stick. When he rounded the corner, Josh turned to Adie. When he’d seen her chasing after Dean, she’d reminded him of a robin chasing down a worm. Now, in spite of the sun on her reddish hair, she looked subdued.
Josh raked his hand through his hair. “He’s trouble, isn’t he?”
“The worst kind.”
“If there’s anything I can do—”
“There isn’t.”
As she straightened her spine, Josh noticed her gown. Instead of the brown dress she usually wore, she’d put on a blue calico that made him think of the ocean. Adie Clarke, he decided, had the same sense of mystery. She seemed calm on the surface, but unseen currents churned in her hazel eyes and turned them green in acknowledgment of the dress.
The door to the carriage house creaked open. Pearl peeked from behind the heavy wood. “Is he gone?”
Adie hurried to her friend’s side. “He just left.”
“Good riddance!”
Josh thought so, too.
Adie put her arm around Pearl’s huge waist. “If you’ll excuse us, Reverend. Pearl needs to lie down.”
“Of course.” Except Adie had a need as well. She had to deliver the mortgage payment. Josh decided he needed a walk. He fell into step with the women, held the door and followed them inside.
Adie gave him a harsh look. “Do you need something, Reverend?”
“No, but you do.”
“I can’t imagine what.”
Josh liked her spirit. After the ordeal with Dean, some women—and men—would have been cowering in the closet. Not Adie Clarke. She’d walk on hot coals for someone she loved. So would Josh. Adie wasn’t Emily, but for now he could treat her like a sister. “I’m going with you to the bank.”
“That’s not necessary.”
Pearl dropped onto a chair. She looked exhausted. “He’s right, Adie. You shouldn’t go alone.”
“And I need the fresh air,” Josh added.
“But your shoulder—”
“It’s much improved.” He rolled his arm to test it. His belly still hurt, but he didn’t pay attention. It always hurt, and it would until he found Emily.
Adie looked annoyed, an expression Josh found refreshing. In Boston, the members of his church had deferred to him. On the open trail, outlaws had put up with him. Adie didn’t belong in either camp. She treated him with common sense, as if he were an ordinary man. He also admired her sweetness with Pearl. In spite of the pressure from Dean, she hadn’t asked her friend to write a note.
Pearl looked at Josh. “She’s stubborn.”
He smiled. “I noticed.”
“I am not.” Adie wrinkled her brow. “I don’t need company to go to the bank. Besides, I have errands to run.”
“Good.” Josh hooked his thumbs in the trousers. “I need to pick up a few things, like suspenders.”
He’d hoped to lighten the mood and it worked. Pearl patted her tummy. “I don’t have that problem.”
When her friend smiled, Adie’s face lit up with pleasure. “I’ll bring you some peppermint candy. Would you like that?”
Pearl’s eyes brightened. “I’d love some. It settles my stomach.”
Josh had known expectant mothers in Boston. They’d all been wealthy and married, secure in love and protected by their husbands. Franklin Dean had robbed this sweet girl of that sanctuary. Someone else had robbed Adie of a husband. Emily had been robbed, too. Josh felt good about escorting Adie to town. He couldn’t change the past, but he could help these women in the here-and-now.
“It’s settled,” he said. “I’m going with you to the bank.”
Adie frowned. “You’re pushier than Mr. Dean.”
“Only for a good cause, Miss Clarke.”
She sighed. “If you insist, but—”
Pearl interrupted. “I insist. This is all my fault.”
Adie put her hands on her hips. “Nothing is your fault, Pearl. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Except she looked down at her toes.
Josh’s mind flashed back to Emily asking to speak with him in his study. Like Pearl, she’d mumbled and stared at her feet. Josh would regret his first words until his dying day. He’d called his own sister a foul name. He’d ordered her to give the baby away. And for what? His pride…his reputation. What a hypocrite he’d been. In truth, he’d committed worse sins than Emily. By condemning her, he’d denied her the very mercy Christ had shown him and every other man.
Looking at Adie and Pearl, he felt the full weight of his failings. Men had a duty to protect the women they loved. Mothers. Sisters. Wives. He’d failed on two counts. Not only had he harmed Emily, but his mother had died two years ago when he’d been numb with laudanum. If he’d been clear-headed, he might have convinced her to see a doctor for her dizzy spells. As for the third kind of woman—a wife—Josh had vowed to never marry. Without a wife and children, he could pursue his work every minute of the day.
Even without the inclination to marry, he felt protective toward all females. That included Adie and her friends…especially Adie. Annoyed by the thought, he pushed it aside. So what if he liked red hair? He had a call on his life, and that would never change.
“I’ll get my coat,” he said to the women.
He went to his room, where he lifted the garment off a nail and put it on. After Adie made the payment, he’d excuse himself for a bath and a haircut. At the barber, he’d ask about pawnbrokers.
He went to the
