Episode 30

A Storm is Coming

They ate a very late breakfast together in the cozy dining room of the Grand Prairie. Hamish MacDougal waited on them himself, bringing plates of bacon, biscuits and an omelet of peppers and scallions. If the Scotsman noticed that Sister Adeline came down the stairs moments before the marshal, he was pretending he hadn’t seen a thing.

“Another fine, skillet-hot, dust-devil summer day in Texas,” Joe said in an attempt to start a civilized conversation.

They talked of the weather a bit. At the same time their eyes created an entirely different discourse. Hamish repaired to the kitchen for fresh cream and Adeline took the opportunity to reach across the table to steal a squeeze of Joe’s arm. Her fingers leapt back upon Hamish’s return. His eyes darted between them and his cheeks reddened before retreating to the front desk in the lobby.

When they were alone again, she said, “I might mistake you for a man of God.”

His fingers went unconsciously to the crucifix dangling from his watch chain.

“I’ve read the book. Mostly for the stories.” He shrugged, lifting a knife to slather butter on a biscuit.

“And the preacher’s coat and the cross?”

“Took them both off a dead man a long time back. The Jesus anyway. Replaced the coat a time or two. I like the cut of it.”

“Did you kill the man? Is that hole in the bible of your making?” she asked, a matter of curiosity only.

“No. Not me. I don’t think so anyway. That night was a long time back, like I said.”

“Have you embraced the God of love?”

He glanced up at her, searching her face for a hint of double meaning. Her face was a mask of wide-eyed innocence. He noted a turn at the corner of her lips and thought for a hot second or two about bundling her back upstairs to his bed.

“I have not experienced any such God of love or peace or anything like it.”

“You need to seek His love. It’s there for all of us,” she said.

“Is that what you were doing blowing into the Paradise swinging an axe handle?” he said, amused at her widening eyes. The spray of freckles across her nose colored.

“That girl was–”

“That girl was going to die after those coyotes had gone at her right there on that bar,” Joe said. “And all the hymns and sermons in the world weren’t going to alter that one speck. You may love Jesus, Sister, but you came on with the god of the Hebrews in your heart.”

“Is that your god, marshal?”

“I’m not a Jew if that’s what you mean. But I have seen the wrath of God. I was a sinner, me and Ben Temple both, and we ran with sinners. And I saw our company struck down by God’s wrath one by each until only Ben and I were left.”

“Don’t you see? You were spared by God’s love,” she said, reaching out touch his hand.

“We were spared to be witnesses,” Joe said, his voice turning brittle. “Don’t make any mistakes, Addy. Me and Ben were every bit as bad as the bastards we rode with. We were every bit as deserving of the Lord’s scorn as the men I buried.”

“But you took the cross, you took the book,” she said, withdrawing her hand.

“To remind me. So, I’d never forget. So, I’d never backslide and take the easy way of stealing and killing. To make my trade standing against men like the man I once was,” he said, placing his fork on his plate, the meal untouched but for a bite of biscuit.

“And how does it remind you?”

“It makes me recall that if God loves anything it’s order. He spared me to bring back the balance where things have gone a’kilter. He brought my life back to balance and I work every day and every night to keep the scales level. You singing and preaching and hectoring drunks and whores has a place out here, I suppose. But it ain’t never going to take hold without men like me grading the way.”

She lowered her eyes, nodding. He pushed his chair back from the table and rose.

“Now, you enjoy this fine breakfast, Sister. I have to see to the jailhouse and make sure my hungover, lazybutt deputies are up and moving.” He restored his hat to his head and tipped the brow.

Sister Adeline turned in her chair after he’d left the dining room. Through the windows of the front windows, she could see Joe Wiley step out under the yellow sky, the bottle glass creating multiple images of him before he passed out of sight.

“‘And it will consume her citadels amid war cries on the day of battle, and a storm on the day of tempest,’” she said to herself.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Hamish said from the doorway. “Ye say a storm is coming?”

“It is, Mr. MacDougal,” she said, turning to him with a wan smile. “And the deluge will touch us all.”