earlier, Pete saved my life.”
Emmeline’s foot stilled. “Well, of course he did. Mrs. Johnson had no right to insinuate otherwise.”
No, she hadn’t had that right. But the damage was done. Rebecca’s reputation was most certainly ruined, or on its way to becoming so. She’d lived in High Plains almost seven months, long enough to know the power of Mrs. Johnson’s tongue.
Rebecca’s stomach curled inside itself at the thought. She’d never been accused of a moral misdeed. Not as a child in Norway, not on the ship across the Atlantic, not on the wagon train to High Plains. And yet, the shame burned through her all the same.
It didn’t matter that Pete had been a gentleman inside that storm cellar. It didn’t matter that he’d saved her life. Apparently, what did matter was that she’d been alone with him, without the benefit of a chaperone or anyone else to vouch for her innocence.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t—
Emmeline made a soft sound in her throat. “That woman didn’t accuse you of impropriety in front of anyone else, did she?”
“No.” Rebecca drew in a short breath. “I was the only one in the store at the time. Her daughter wasn’t even there.” But as soon as she spoke she remembered the other two ladies entering the mercantile just as Rebecca exited the building.
“Okay. Good. This situation is manageable.” Emmeline’s shoulders relaxed. “We can figure out a way to stop the gossip before it goes too far.”
“I think it’s too late for that.”
“What do you mean, it’s too late?” Emmeline repeated carefully, her gaze wary.
Rebecca’s heart did a sudden roll in her chest. Clinging to the last thread of her dignity, she lifted her chin and told Emmeline the rest. “Two other ladies walked into the store just as I was leaving. I’ve seen them before. They’re friends of Mrs. Johnson’s, they…” She trailed off, not sure how to put her worst fears into words.
“Oh.” Emmeline’s eyes widened. “Oh. You think Mrs. Johnson already told them about you and Pete?”
“Of course she did.”
Emmeline caught Rebecca’s hands between hers and held on tightly. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you, but we’re only speculating at the moment. You must talk to Pete about this.”
“I couldn’t.” Rebecca snatched her hands free, horrified at the prospect. “I’d be too mortified to discuss this with him.” Besides, she’d had her chance right after she’d left the mercantile. His obvious concern for her had only added to her shame.
“With all that’s happened to this town over the past month, I can’t understand how Matilda Johnson has time to spread lies.” Emmeline’s lip curled into an uncharacteristic snarl. “Well, it’s just mean.”
Rebecca nodded slowly. Yes, it was mean. But whatever the woman said at this point could not be unsaid. People would either believe the talk or they wouldn’t. And if her reputation was beyond repair, Rebecca would survive the devastation. Eventually. It wasn’t as if she’d been fully accepted by the community before this.
That did not mean she had found it in her heart to forgive Matilda Johnson. Not yet. Ever since she’d left the mercantile, Rebecca had struggled with her own evil thoughts toward the woman.
Lord, how do I overcome this unbearable anger? I know we’re called to love our enemies, but how do I love such a woman, especially when there’s only bitterness in my heart toward her?
Rebecca paused after her prayer, hoping for a swift transformation in her thinking. But she felt no different than before. There was still no love in her heart and certainly no forgiveness for a woman who had set out to believe the worst.
The question, of course, was why? Why did Matilda Johnson hate her so? The woman’s behavior simply made no sense.
Renewed bitterness swelled. The emotion was so frigid it leeched the warmth right out of Rebecca’s limbs. She rubbed her palms together, but she continued feeling cold inside. Deathly cold.
Reaching across the table, Emmeline touched her arm. Rebecca nearly jumped out of her chair at the unexpected contact. She blinked at the hand on her sleeve as though it was a foreign object.
Emmeline released her. “Rebecca?”
She lifted her head and looked into her friend’s clear blue eyes. The eyes of a pure soul, set off by a cloud of dark curls under her bonnet.
“You must know that I believe you and Pete did nothing wrong that day.”
Rebecca grew very still, afraid if she moved, even a little, she would burst into tears. But out of gratitude or shame, she didn’t know. “So you don’t believe I lured Pete into his storm cellar for my own unseemly purposes?”
“Of course not.” Emmeline batted the idea away with a slash of her hand.
For the first time that morning, the knots in Rebecca’s stomach began to uncurl. At least one person in town believed her innocence. Two, counting Pete. Three, if she added her brother to the list. Edward had known about her forced confinement with Pete from the beginning and hadn’t thought anything of it. He trusted Pete. He trusted Rebecca. That was the end of that.
But what if he hears the gossip? Would he talk to Pete about the matter? That would only add to Rebecca’s humiliation.
Not that Pete wouldn’t find out soon enough. Once Matilda Johnson started talking, people would surely listen, and then spread what they heard to others.
Rebecca rolled her fingers into fists, but then forced herself to relax. “Thank you, Emmeline. You have no idea how much your belief in me means.” Her voice quivered over the words.
Emmeline patted her hand. “You will always have my support. And my friendship.”
Rebecca saw the truth shining in her friend’s gaze. What more was there to say? “Enough about me. Let’s talk about you. Did you find any material for your new curtains?”
Emmeline hesitated a brief second before a smile broke across her face. “I did. But I left it in the parlor. I’ll just go retrieve it.” Without another word, she rushed from the kitchen in a half run, half skip.
Rebecca smiled after her friend. She looked happy, truly happy. Something Rebecca couldn’t have said a few weeks ago.
Emmeline had been through more than her share of hardships in the past month. She and her family had been part of the wagon train that had received a direct hit from the tornado. In a matter of minutes, the violent storm had robbed Emmeline of her father, turned her fifteen-year-old sister, Bess, mute with shock and sent Missy and Mikey, the eight-year-old orphan twins who’d been traveling with Emmeline’s family, vanishing into thin air. Everyone in town was most worried about the missing children. The fear was that Mikey and Missy had been stolen by Indians.
It was all so…terrible.
But the Lord had brought some good out of the tragedies Emmeline had endured. All starting with Will Logan, the owner of the Circle-L. He’d taken Emmeline and her family in when
