Bachelor's Puzzle (18 page)

Understandably, Zack would be very uncomfortable doing this sort of thing but knew he could not avoid it for long. Shortly after he returned to Maintown from his circuit, Mrs. Stoddard, as chairwoman of the L adies’ Aid Society, brought him a list of folks who would benefit by a visit from the pastor. He tried to get out of it but quickly learned Mrs. Stoddard was not a woman one easily said no to.

First on the list was the Arlington family. They had a sick child, a matter made worse by the fact thatL ewis Arlington had taken a job in Rainier because money was tight, so his wife was alone with their children when Zack made his call.L ouise Arlington was a part of the Sewing Circle, and the ladies were trying to help out, but she was still overwhelmed by all that was happening to them.

As Zack lifted his hand to knock on the door, he could hear sounds of chaos inside, children crying, a woman scolding, little feet pattering about. When L ouise opened the door, Zack met a woman who was no more than twenty-five and might have been pretty if her hair hadn’t been hanging about her face in disarray and her skin wasn’t pale with dark circles around her eyes. She was wearing a faded blue calico dress and a stained white apron. A bawling baby was clenched in the crook of one arm. Another crying child, about two years old, was standing next to her, clutching her skirt.I n the background a boy, about four, was running about with a feather in his hair and making Indian war cries.

“Why, ReverendL ocklin, what a surprise! A . . . pleasant surprise,” Mrs. Arlington said. “Do come in.”

Zack knew now why the idea of making visitations disturbed him. This woman was up to her elbows in work, and the last thing she needed was to entertain someone.

“I’ve come at a bad time,” he said apologetically.

“It’s always a bad time these days,” she said with a wan smile.

“Mrs. Stoddard said you might appreciate a visit—” He realized his voice was steadily rising over the din in the background.

“Billy, hush up now!”L ouise called to the boy playing I ndian. The two-year-old stopped crying upon seeing a stranger and was now hiding behind Louise. The baby was still squawking.

“I can come back—”

“No, please, don’t be silly. I t’s a long ride out here.” She pushed the door wide open and gestured for him to enter.

He took a step and nearly tripped over something that turned out to be a laundry basket.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I was about to hang the laundry whenLizzy started crying.”

“Is she sick?”

“A bit of croup, I think. Her little nose is stuffed up. She can’t sleep or eat very well.” Suddenly L ouise bit her lip, which had started trembling. “I never realized how much of a help Lewis is until he took that job in Rainier. He often did the laundry for me and kept the older ones entertained. Sally will soon be home from school, and then—but you don’t want to hear all this.Let me fix tea,” she added gamely.

“Look, Mrs. Arlington,” Zack said with sudden resolve, “I’m sure the last thing you need now is to fix tea for a guest.

I could waste your time by visiting and praying with you, but why don’t I just pray while I hang your laundry?”

“Oh no!I couldn’t let you do that—I mean, hang my laundry! That just wouldn’t be right.”

“I am quite sure that’s why God sent me out here. You just take care of your baby.” Zack grabbed the basket and headed outside to where he had seen the clothesline.

He figured this was the best solution for both of them. He had been dreading the moment when he would have to fake a prayer.I t was one thing to pretend to pray in a formal way from the pulpit, but it just didn’t sit well to do so with the frazzled, needy woman. She’d be much better off with his labor rather than his impotent prayers.

When he left there three hours later, he’d hung all the laundry, washed two days’ worth of dishes, coaxed the two-year-old to take a nap, and taught Billy how I ndians
quietly
stalked deer in the woods. He also helpedL ouise rig up a steam tent to help clear the baby’s breathing.

He left the Arlington home in a far more peaceful state than when he’d found it. He began to think that there were definitely times when a fake minister was better than a real one.

After that, whenever he was called upon to visit a shut-in or a backslider or others with various needs, he found a way to turn the visit into helping out with chores. No matter what a person’s problem, they could always use help around the farm, and few would exchange that for a prayer. He became the most welcome visiting pastor Maintown had ever had.

Two bachelor brothers were on his list to visit. They lived together on their farm, and Zack could see why neither had ever married. They were the crankiest and most cantankerous men he had ever seen. He wondered if Mrs. Stoddard had put them on the list just to test the new minister.

Felix and Fred Baxter were also serious backsliders. They attended church once a year—on Easter Sunday—but this year they had avoided even that because there had been no Maintown pastor. The rest of the year the brothers fought with each other, harangued their neighbors, and got drunk at every opportunity. Somehow they still managed to maintain a fairly prosperous farm. But they were getting older now. Felix had rheumatism, and Fred had frequent stomach troubles.

They were about the only citizens of Maintown to miss Zack’s first service.I t wasn’t Easter, so why would they attend church? Mrs. Stoddard said that old Pastor McFarland had given up calling on them because all his visits to the Baxter farm had ended dismally.

Zack had barely ridden into their yard and dismounted when one of them hobbled out of the barn carrying a pitchfork.

“What d’ya want?” the man growled. He wore a scowl on his creased face with its stubbly gray beard. He looked like he knew how to use that pitchfork to its best effect. From the descriptions Mrs. Stoddard had given him, Zack figured this one was Fred.

“I’m William Locklin, the new minister—”

“And?” the man cut in sharply.

“I was . . . uh . . . well, just visiting the folks hereabouts.”

“Ain’t got time for such truck.”

“I just want to be friendly.”

“Ha!” came a voice from behind. “Ya wanta preach at us and tell us we’re goin’ to Hades!”

Zack turned and saw the man who must be Felix. He was as gray and surly and grizzled as his brother, but he walked with a serious stoop.

“Believe me,” Zack said, “that is the last thing I want to do.”

“Oh yeah?” challenged Fred. “If that be so, then why don’t you do some real good and feed our livestock for us.”

With a shrug, Zack took the pitchfork and proceeded to do just that. Then he helped them plant the last of their potatoes. He learned they were late in planting because they’d both been ill. Before he left in the late afternoon, they dared him to return the next day to weed the kitchen garden. He took them up on the dare and discovered that for all their surliness, they weren’t bad sorts. When the work was done, he played checkers with them, drank their home-brewed ale, and listened to their stories for hours. They had come to Oregon practically on the heels ofL ewis and Clark and knew more about the region than anyone.

Fred and Felix shocked not only Zack but the entire congregation when they showed up at the next church service—and every service after that. Calvin said they were Zack’s first converts. Zack smiled amusedly and let it go at that.

FIFTEEN

Even more unsettling for Zack than visiting his congregation was their coming to visit him. First Polly Briggs came by to let him know that her daughter wished to get married on the first Sunday in July after the regular church service.

Zack suddenly felt as if the floor had fallen out from under him. He should have anticipated this, and indeed he’d had a niggling sense that he was overlooking something significant. He could pretend to be a minister, preach, bury people, and do any number of ministerial duties without compunction. But he knew he couldn’t marry people and be the cause of two innocents living in sin. He should have seen this coming and had an excuse prepared. Normally he could think pretty fast on his feet, but this was not one of those times.

“Pastor?” Mrs. Briggs prompted after his silence went on noticeably long.

His mind churned but felt more like a wheel spinning uselessly in mud.

“Mrs. Briggs . . . I . . . uh . . . thought you knew.” Finally a story lumbered clumsily into his brain. He remembered an important paper amongLocklin’s things.

“Knew what, Reverend?”

“They didn’t tell you?” he said, stalling, trying to fit the pieces of the tale together. When she shook her head dumbly, he continued, “Well, you are aware, I’m’m sure, of the shortage of ministers—” Someone had mentioned that to him along the way as the reason it had taken so long for the church to appoint a minister to this lightly populated area. “You see, the denomination sent me out a bit prematurely, not wanting to keep you waiting for a minister.

They felt certain it would not take as long as it has. . . .”

“What would take as long?I’m’m confused,” the completely befuddled woman said.

Zack hoped the scheme he just concocted was plausible, and he couldn’t see why not. “I did not have my official license when I was assigned this post. But everyone thought it would follow soon enough.”

“No license?”

“My . . . uh . . . ministerial license, you know. I t gives me the legal right to perform my duties, marriages, and so forth.”

“Oh, Pastor!” Mrs. Briggs let out a sigh. “I thought it was something serious. You can still marry my daughter even if you don’t have this license thing.”

“I am appalled, Mrs. Briggs! You would condone your daughter entering an illegal union?”

“Well, here in the West we sometimes have to bend the rules a little.I remember when my family settled in Wisconsin before we came to Oregon. There wasn’t a proper minister for a hundred miles. Couples had to be satisfied with a ‘hand clasp’ marriage until a preacher came along to make it legal. More often than not a couple would have their real wedding with two or three children clinging to them.”

Zack hadn’t taken this attitude into account, though he knew it to be true. As he was searching in his mind for a rebuttal, Mrs. Briggs continued.

“Reverend, as far as I am concerned, you are a man of God, and that’s what matters. A little piece of paper don’t change that one little bit.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Briggs,” Zack said, as if with firm conviction, “but it matters to me!I f we keep bending the rules, the West will never become civilized.I could never marry someone without the legal prerogative to do so.”

“But my Claudia will be heartbroken if she can’t marry in July! She has already waited so long for you to arrive.”

“At least she won’t be forced to live in sin. I am sorry to be so implacable in this, but I must draw the line somewhere. What did the folks do before I came? There surely are not any of these ‘hand clasp’ marriages about, or I would have faced this dilemma long before now.”

“I guess the circuit judge married those who couldn’t wait,” Mrs. Briggs replied.

“There you go!” Zack felt as if he’d been reprieved from the gallows.

“But I wanted a Christian service for my daughter—”

“I’m sure one of the other ministers—”

“In my own church.”

“Perhaps she can wait just a little longer, then,” Zack said sympathetically. “I’m sure my license will come soon.”

“I guess it can’t be helped, then,” the woman finally conceded.

When she left, Zack went upstairs to his room and took WilliamL ocklin’s license from the carpetbag and tucked it deep into the trunk. He should burn it, but there were no matches at hand. He’d ask Mrs. Copeland for some at the first opportunity and finish the job later. Until then that incriminating paper should be safe.

He was distracted from that task when he reached the kitchen and found another of his parishioners there visiting with Mrs. Copeland.

“Hello, Mrs. Donnelly,” he said.

“Hello, Reverend.” She smiled graciously. “I am so impressed how you remember everyone’s names.”

“A gift from God,” he said wryly, thinking as he spoke that if it wasn’t for all the prickly details, this ruse would be like water off a duck’s back. The devil was indeed in the details!

“Reverend, do you have a spare moment?” Mrs. Donnelly asked.

“Yes, of course.I was just about to ask Mrs. Copeland for some matches, as I appear to be out. I t was a bit chilly in my room last night.”

“I’m so sorry, Reverend,” Mrs. Copeland said, appearing truly upset by her oversight as hostess.

Zack groaned inwardly. Why couldn’t these people be mean and inconsiderate? It would make his life so much easier.

“I’ll leave you and Jane to talk while I take care of this, Reverend.”

“Thank you,” he replied, watching her scurry from the kitchen. “What am I doing?” he murmured, forgetting that he wasn’t alone.

“Reverend,” Mrs. Donnelly cut into his thoughts, “don’t worry about Mrs. Copeland. She lives to do for others, so any need you have brings her great joy to fulfill.”

Zack blinked and forced his mind back into focus. “I’ll keep that in mind. Would you care to sit, Mrs. Donnelly?”

They both sat at the table and then Jane Donnelly spoke. “Reverend,I would like to talk to you about some . . . ah . . . problems in my family. You haven’t met my husband yet. He won’t come to church.”

“That is too bad. You would like for me to speak to him?”

“That would be nice, but there is more to it than that. You see, Tom has a great deal of hostility toward the church.I’m’m not sure exactly why, but he does. I no longer even attempt to ask him about church because it . . . well, it makes him very upset. I must say I worry most about our son. Tommy and his father don’t get along well, but Tommy does try to emulate his father in many of his bad habits.”

“You would think the boy would do the opposite,” Zack said.

“Maybe it is not a willful attempt to mimic his father but more an attitude that if his father drinks strong spirits, then why shouldn’t he?I f his father doesn’t have to attend church, then why should he? That sort of thing.”