Rowena & Jeb Read online

  It wasn’t very helpful advice, Rowena worried, since she had no idea what she was getting herself into. But with a soft sigh, she reached the wagon that Jeb had brought. It had a high step and he quietly offered her his arm. For a minute she wavered, wondering if she should just turn back. What was she thinking, accepting an offer to spend some time alone with this man? And in church, no less. Didn’t she need an escort? Again she looked back to Susannah, who had paused and waved for a moment before reentering the barn.

  Now, Rowena was alone. Well, mostly. Her gaze flickered onto Jeb’s and she grudgingly accepted his grasp as he helped her into the wagon. Lucas had done the same for her a half dozen times, but Jeb was a little taller and more gentle than firm. Still, she found herself seated on the wagon seat as Jeb joined her on the other side, and they headed into town.

  It was a long ride, a quiet one. His horse was beautiful and it was indeed a lovely day. Rowena found herself studying the landscape and looking around them as they went. Jeb said nothing for the most part, though she could feel his gaze on her often.

  They were nearing town when he finally moved one hand from the reins and pointed behind a hill. “See that? Over the crest, that’s where I’m building my home.” He nodded to himself. “I’ve built the groundwork, and most of the walls are up. But the roof is the tricky part and I haven’t quite learned that yet.”

  She decided it was strange, hearing a man share what he didn’t know. “I’m sure you’ll have it finished in no time,” she assured him, not knowing what else to say.

  Jeb nodded again. “That’s what I’m hoping. It’s difficult to make a house sturdy enough to last the winters here. I’d hate to start again,” he added with a chuckle. “Especially with the harvest on its way. Oh, and here we are. See that little white building?”

  “That’s the church?” She asked, and he smiled. This time, it wasn’t towards her however, but as though the very building made him happy.

  After putting the horses in the small pasture, Jeb guided her into the building, side by side but not touching. Rowena’s gaze was so focused on the people around them that were mingling and talking, dressed in nicer gowns than she had ever owned, it took her a moment to realize something had changed as they stepped inside.

  Everything quieted to a low murmur, she marveled as Jeb guided her to open seats. The two of them watched as the room filled up with people, and the windows were opened for fresh air. It was different than the few chapels she had been inside in New York, less gray and with happier people. Her heart felt full, and Rowena hardly even noticed the stares.

  “Good morning. And welcome one and all,” the pastor walked to the pulpit with a large book. He limped but the man was wearing a wide smile as he looked around at the many faces before him. To her surprise, he even smiled at her. Rowena shifted anxiously, and worried what that meant. “It is good to see all of you here today,” the man continued, “whether you are old or new friends. All are welcome in the house of God. Let us begin with Hymn 37, shall we?”

  In a flutter of movements, everyone obeyed and began to pull out books from their pockets and bags and purses. Her eyes widened and she looked to Jeb self-consciously, only to find him with his own book. “We can share,” he offered. Reluctantly, she nodded and they shared the small book, about the size of his hand, and they stood to sing. Her voice was rusty and she couldn’t recall the last time she had sung anything, but everyone sang with gusto whether they matched the tune or not, and it was a joyful noise.

  The pastor started into his sermon after they’d sung two more hymns. “Charity. What is it? Why does it matter?”

  He looked over the congregation as he waited for them to think about his questions and how they might answer if they were called to do so.

  “Charity is in it’s simplest form the love and care we give our fellow men and women. People who need help. People who don’t.”

  There were nods from several men and women in the congregation. Rowena looked sideways at Jeb to see if he was nodding. He was listening, but not nodding. He sat still with his focus fully on the pastor.

  “Charity matters because it’s one of the ways we have to show the true love of Christ,” the pastor continued. He took out his Bible and opened it reverently. “Turn with me if you will to Matthew. Chapter Twenty-five. Let’s start with verse thirty-five. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.”

  Rowena was listening to the words from the Bible and she became enthralled in the words. Captivated at the beauty of a command to help others. She unexpectedly realized that she wanted to help others. For so long she’d been the one in need and others had reached out to help her at times. She was grateful as she looked back.

  “And then in verse forty we read… Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me. So my friends, the Bible tells us that we show the Lord to others when we minister to their needs. We’re called by God to do that. We’re obligated to help those in need.”

  Rowena continued to drink the words in. Things were making sense in just a few words from a man she’d never met. She wanted to know more.

  The pastor read more scripture with spirit and strength as he stood behind the pulpit before them, waving his arms at times as though his message was a new and exciting revelation. And to Rowena, it was. Everything that came from his mouth was fascinating, and she found herself on the edge of her seat, listening curiously. She was nearly disappointed when the service came to a close, and they sang their final hymn.

  Her heart pounded in her chest as though it were trying to escape. Trying to control herself, Rowena kept her head down as she followed Jeb out of the bustling chapel as everyone began to greet one another. There were two people who called out to Jeb, but he just tipped his hat and kept walking.

  They were on their way back to the Jessups’ house when she could hold it in no longer. “That was lovely!” She proclaimed, much louder than she had planned. Inhaling sharply, Rowena bit her tongue and looked down. “I mean, I thought that went very well. The service and all.”

  The man was grinning at her, she could feel it. “Yes, I… I thought so, too. You liked it, then?” She nodded enthusiastically. “You should come more often,” he told her. “It’s every Sunday, after all,” and he said it teasingly, like they were joking.

  Flushed, Rowena’s beating heart gave her the courage to meet his gaze. “I just might,” she nodded. “I want to, really. Why, I’ve never been… well, I’ve never been to church before now,” the young woman confessed, not sure why she was saying this. “In New York, my life never warranted it. I’d hardly been inside a chapel before, and the pastors I heard of only yelled and told us how we were all going to Hell.” She paused, frowning. “Is it always like this, or does he do some shouting, as well?”

  Jeb shook his head, to her relief. “Pastor Simmons is as nice as they come. I guess he might get spirited from time to time, but I don’t think he shouts much.”

  Feeling reassured, Rowena smiled. And they started into a stumbling discussion over what they had heard that day, as she gathered her courage to ask him questions and he stammered his way through answers.

  They were at the house before she knew it, and she frowned. Jeb was still talking as he leaped down and hurried over to help her back onto the ground. As she climbed off the wagon, Susannah appeared in the doorway and waved. They were still a few yards off, but the short woman had a loud voice.

  “About time you two returned! Come and eat!”

  Rowena paused, and weighed her options as Jeb turned to her with a sheepish grin. “Well, we can always finish this discussion next time,” he offered her. “I’d definitely like to see what you, um, what you think of the story about Jonah and the big fish.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “B
ig fish?”

  “It’s got a lot to do with faith,” he assured her. “The Jessups can tell you where to find it in their Bible.”

  Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Rowena nodded and grudgingly stepped back. She glanced at the house, and then a thought came to mind that she found herself impulsively voicing. “Or you can come in and tell me about it,” she invited him. “I’m sure she meant for both of us to come in and eat, after all.”

  He pulled off his hat, squinting at her in the sunlight. His brown hair appeared to turn a soft gold just then, and it only accented his grin all the more. “That would be mighty nice,” he ventured. “I’d like that. Let me take care of the horse and I’ll be right in.”

  “Of course,” she nodded, and dropped her gaze. “Then I’ll—we’ll—see you inside.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jeb joined the ladies for the noonday meal that Sunday, and left shortly afterwards to join Lucas in town. They had an enlightening conversation about the Holy Bible and the pastor and Rowena spent the better part of the next week reading.

  She didn’t see Jeb again until he showed up the next Sunday morning with the wagon to take her to church. It was unexpected, but she couldn’t deny a sliver of hope that had been shining in her heart.

  “What do you think today’s sermon will be about?” She invited discussion on the drive over, noticing that he was waiting for her to take the lead.

  He grinned. “Probably about hard work and laboring in the Lord’s vineyard. He likes to talk about that in spring and summer. You know, to um, prepare everyone for planting and harvest.”

  She looked at him carefully, trying to decide if he was joking or not. “Oh really?”

  “Or he’ll talk about Jonah and the big fish,” he shrugged.

  Now she knew it. Straightening up, she wrinkled her nose at him, not sure how she felt about this. “Hmm.” After a minute of musing, her thoughts had already wandered. “Do they sing the same songs every week?”

  They talked on the way over, and again shared his hymn book. On the drive back, she looked through it and mused over the songs. Rowena hadn’t grown up around that much music, though she’d heard plenty in the streets. There was always music in the gambling house, but that was much different.

  Over the following month, it became a tradition and Rowena found herself looking forward to her Sundays in church. The songs were always filled with joy, and the sermons taught about forgiveness, trust, and grace. It was a world she had never known, and found herself craving more of. During most of her free time, she’d find a cozy spot and open the Holy Bible to read.

  “We’re heading into town in a few minutes,” Susannah called to her from the kitchen. “Lucas needs to take care of his paperwork, and there are errands to run. Would you like to join us?”

  Glancing up from the book, Rowena wiggled in her chair by the window and considered it. She was at the story of King David, and was wondering if she wanted to find out the ending now, or wait. Biting her lip, she glanced at the book and then back to Susannah.

  “It will still be here when we return,” she promised.

  Chuckling, Rowena nodded. “All right, then. Do we need to bring anything more?” Putting the book down, she went over to the kitchen to see the three boxes sitting on the table, all filled with freshly pulled carrots they had pulled out of their garden yesterday. “There we are,” she had her question answered for her as Susannah chuckled and took out a box to the wagon Lucas was setting up for them.

  Soon they were on their way, and Rowena was helping Susannah unload the boxes at the mercantile. The older woman fell into conversation with the shop owner, Mr. Dowdle, and soon the work was done but the talking wasn’t. Rowena had little to say about the coming harvest, so she wandered the aisles of the shop and then went to stand out on the porch, trying to distract herself.

  “Miss Oakton?”

  She turned to find Jeb strolling down the street. Pulling off his hat, he grinned and hastened over. “Good afternoon, Mr. Harbin,” she nodded and offered him a smile. “What are you doing here?”

  “Please, I think we’re past niceties,” he shook his head. “Call me Jeb. And I should ask you the same thing. Rocky Ridge only sees you in town on Sundays, after all. Would you like to join me for lunch? I’m headed down to the restaurant.”

  Biting her lip, she squinted up at the sun shining down on them. It was a warm day, and she felt a fine line of sweat beginning to break out on her forehead. She had forgotten her bonnet, and knew she would be dark before the day was out. Shrugging it off, Rowena turned to find Susannah, and waved to get her attention.

  The woman noticed, and saw Jeb there. Her eyes widened in understanding and she gestured, showing that it was all right for her to go. Susannah returned to her conversation with Mr. Dowdle and Rowena found herself walking down the street with Jeb.

  It was a comfortable position, she realized, as he started talking about his day, the way they walked together. The two of them were close but not touching. When necessary, he offered his hand and she would take it then and only then. Granted, this was different to be walking and talking away from the chapel and the Jessup house.

  She noticed people watching them, probably asking each other who she was. After all, they had to know Jeb. But the stares made her uneasy and it reminded her of the gambling house, of the men lurking in the shadows and watching every move. Why did people need to be so nosey?

  “Here we are,” Jeb opened the door for her, and she stepped in. It was a cozy place, and already bustling with people sitting in their seats and a few walking around. The lights were dim compared to the sun and it took her a minute for her eyes to adjust. By then, Jeb had already spotted a table for them, and guided her around to the corner. He pulled out her chair, and sat across from her.

  “You come here often, don’t you?” Rowena asked as she carefully glanced around the room. Most of the people there looked over and waved. Her lunch partner was more than kind to wave back, and offer greetings. For a moment, she nearly felt ignored.

  Jeb shook his head. “It’s a small town, so people know me, I suppose.” He offered her one of those grins again, and was about to say something else when someone hollered at him.

  “About time you was here, Jeb! Your bacon is burning. Same thing again?”

  Laughing, he looked at Rowena apologetically before shouting his own response. “Same thing again.”

  “And how’s about that lady friend of yours?”

  He sputtered for a moment before clearing his throat. “I uh, I’m sorry about this, Miss Oakton. But um, what would you like? You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

  Her face flushed and she shook her head. “Oh no, please don’t bother for me. Susannah brought a basket.”

  Jeb shrugged. “Please, I’m the one who—who dragged you away. The least I can do is provide you a decent meal in return for your company. You mentioned you like ham, I believe?”

  “Yes,” she nodded reluctantly. Biting her lip, Rowena stared at the wooden table, not sure how to handle this situation. There had been a time when she was struggling to survive off the streets after leaving that gambling house. Even though Susannah and Lucas fed her, it was strange to be out and about around the town and having someone else pay for her. Especially a gentleman.

  “She’ll have the same. No bacon, just the ham,” he called back. “Her name is Rowena Oakton.”

  Her eyes widened and she gave him a look. Everyone was clearing paying attention to this, even if there were other conversations still going on. “Please, I don’t…” She trailed off hesitantly, not even sure what she wanted to say.

  “Welcome, Miss Rowena Oakton!” The voice called back. “I’m Sam, the cook. It’s a pleasure to have you here!”

  Freezing, she glanced around but it was like a voice in the void, and she couldn’t see where he was. Rowena looked at Jeb helplessly who shrugged with that grin of his. “Thank you, Sam!” She finally shouted back, and she could have swo
rn she heard someone cheer. Shaking her head, she tried to make herself small again to avoid the embarrassment. “Is it always like this?”

  Jeb chuckled. “I’m afraid so. I’m sorry about that. Sam’s real friendly. He’s real nice, but he can’t have quiet conversations since he’s in the kitchen. This is his place, you see, and uh, I guess I do come here often. I’m not as good a cook as he is, after all.”

  Finding the strength to laugh it off, Rowena watched as Jeb’s confidence grew and hers seemed to disappear. She was nervous and quiet as they ate, still trying to process in her mind what they were even doing.

  As the days passed, however, she thought more about Jeb and realized they had developed a friendship. Jeb was humorous and kind, and hopeful about the future in a way that Rowena had never experienced. He wanted to learn as much as he could to build a good life for himself, and she admired that. All she had ever focused on was survival. It’s how she was raised and it was all she’d ever known. Until now.

  When Jeb wasn’t working in town or on his house, he started dropping by the Jessup house. He ended up teaching Rowena to ride, and they discussed the Gospel in the evenings. Susannah and Lucas were around intermittently, and the young woman was glad for it. She liked knowing she had support when she needed it, but she also liked the space since she hadn’t yet recovered her complete trust in them.

  But Jeb was a good distraction. She quickly learned that he did have a devilish side to him, having grown up around other rowdy boys and then having joined the Rangers. Most of his stories were about practical jokes and stunts he had narrowly escaped, so Rowena learned to laugh out loud. That grin did his stories justice, she decided, even if the man was shy around her.

  He treated her so respectfully, that Rowena almost didn’t know what to do. As their friendship developed, she began wondering if she did want him walking closer to her, maybe bumping shoulders. Or if their hands touched while sharing the hymn book, she wondered why she wasn’t afraid. Rowena couldn’t get any further than that, however, because it always brought back memories of the gambling house. She remembered the roving eyes, the prodding fingers and grabbing hands.