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Book Excerpt:
This
excerpt takes place shortly after Rowe arrives in Assurance, Kansas. Marissa
sees him on her way to deposit the saloon’s earnings in the bank. The town’s
gossipy seamstress Linda Walsh stops to have a word with Marissa about the new
preacher.
Marissa
groaned at the thought of meeting another preacher. Every preacher she came
across had turned her away once they discovered her profession.
She
watched the small schooner pull up to the local inn. She recognized the driver
Dusty Sterling seated beside the other man. Dusty hopped down and tethered the
horses. The man in black stepped onto the dusty curb. His recently polished
boots gleamed.
“Fancy
one, he is,” Linda continued. “I hear he comes from a city somewhere in
Virginia.”
“Where
did you hear that?”
“It
was in the paper a month ago. Our advertisement for a new preacher was answered
from a man back East.”
Marissa
focused again on what was in front of her. The traveler indeed looked foreign
to the prairie. Not a hint of travel dust stuck to his long, black frock coat
and four-in-hand necktie, probably changed into just before departing the train.
His gray pants were new and expertly tailored. He removed his hat briefly to
wipe his brow, and Marissa saw the dark, wavy hair cropped close to his head.
“He
doesn’t have a wife or children with him. Such a shame.” Linda clucked her
tongue. “He’s a handsome fellow, for certain.”
Marissa
agreed with her on that. He must have stood over six feet tall, with broad
shoulders and a powerful build. The man’s profile was strong and rigid, his
square jaw and straight nose a true delight for the eyes. Assurance’s former
preacher, Reverend Thomas, did not look like this. “Would having a wife and
children make him a better preacher?”
Linda
tossed her a look. “That’s got nothing to do with it. One ought to be settled
down at a certain age, wouldn’t you say so? Instead of running wild with the
barmen?”
Marissa
absorbed the sting of emotional pain. Anything she said in response would not
sway Linda or anyone else’s notion that she was just a beer-serving
streetwalker. She put on a polite stoic face. “I’m sure the ladies of this town
will clamor for his attention. Will you excuse me, Miss Linda? I should be
going.”
She
left the seamstress just as Dusty carried the new preacher’s valises inside the
inn. The preacher moved to follow then stopped short, pausing for Marissa to
walk past. Marissa saw his blue eyes widen and take in her entire form, from
the feathered hat on her head to the dainty-heeled boots on her feet. By his
expression she didn’t know whether he admired or disapproved.
His
lips settled into a firm line of what looked to be distaste, and she got her
answer.
The
preacher hadn’t been there for an hour and already she drew out his scorn.
Marissa returned the stare until her image of him blurred with beckoning tears.
He
jolted from his perusal. His low, straight brows flicked. “Good day to you,
ma’am.” He amiably tipped his hat to her.
She
paused, not used to being addressed in that fashion. Kindness was in his greeting,
not the sarcasm she normally heard from others. Marissa tilted her head to get
a clear look at him. His eyes were friendly, calm deep pools. The rest of his
face, with its strong, angular lines, remained cordial.
“Good day,” she replied, hoarse.
Awkwardness seized her person. Marissa hastily
continued on her way to the bank.
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