on making its place in the world. The man stopped long enough to pull a nail from his pocket. So intent were his efforts that he apparently didn’t notice the lone rider.
The sound of children’s laughter captured her attention, and she turned to see a schoolhouse set back even farther from the main road on the right. Ah, noontime. In her curiosity with Kahlerville, she’d ignored the rumbling in her stomach, and she seldom took time for anything but water in the mornings. The entire picturesque scene flooded her with a sense of peace and safety. Maybe she didn’t belong here at all, but she wanted a place to call home.
Tying her horse to a hitching post in the churchyard, she observed that the man had discovered her. He waved at her with a little less fervor than the two ladies at the saloon. Finding a burst of courage, she seized the opportunity to greet him while walking his way.
“Morning, sir. I’m looking for Reverend Rainer.”
“That’s me. What can I do for you?”
He looked about sixty years old with silver hair and soft gray eyes that radiated warmth. Perspiration beaded his face, and she noticed several lines etched across his forehead, revealing a man consumed with care.
Casey removed her hat so as not to leave any doubt of her gender. “My name is Shawne Flanagan,” she said. “I met a young boy outside of town who directed me to you. I’ve just ridden in and hoped you could help me.”
“Certainly.” He wiped his sweat-beaded face on the arm of his blue shirt. “Would you like to come inside?”
“Oh, no, sir. I’m much too dirty.” Casey moistened her lips and wished she’d changed into her dress, but then she wouldn’t look proper sitting atop a horse. If the reverend judged her based on clothing and cleanliness, she’d already failed. At least she’d removed her gun belt and stored her Colt in the saddlebag. “Please excuse the way I look. I’ve been traveling for a long time, and this clothing is more practical.” All the while, she searched his gray eyes for disapproval.
“Nonsense. You look fine to me. I’m ready for a cool drink of water. How about you?”
She followed him to a covered well and silently watched as he lowered then raised a bucket. The rope creaked and groaned, but soon the bucket surfaced, full of clear, cool water. The two shared a dipper, and Casey relaxed slightly with the preacher’s easy talk of the weather.
“Are you certain you wouldn’t like to come inside?” he said.
She shook her head. “I’m comfortable right here, and I don’t want to take you away from your chores.”
He chuckled. “Young lady, I’d much rather talk any day than mend fence.”
They laughed together, and Casey realized the time had come to speak her mind. “Sir, as I said before, I just rode into town, and I’m wondering if you could recommend a place to stay and any available work.”
Reverend Rainer appeared to contemplate her request. His gaze focused on the dirt road back into town. “Let me think. Work isn’t plentiful for a young woman. The boardinghouse is run by some good folks. What kind of work have you done?”
“I’ve done cooking. Truthfully, I’d do about anything respectable.” Why didn’t I bathe before coming here?
He paused for a moment. “Have you done any nursing?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve taken care of sick folks.”
“And you said you can cook?”
“Yes, sir.” I’ve cooked everything from squirrel to rattler.
“Can you come back by here this afternoon before supper? I may have something for you.”
Thoroughly pleased with the twist of events, she formed an easy smile. “Thank you, Reverend. I’ll be here.”
As she rode Stampede to the livery stable, her spirits lifted. For the first time in many days, encouragement wove a trail of hope around her heart. She arranged for her stallion and gathered up her saddlebags to visit the boardinghouse. A short while later, Casey soaked in a warm bath and fought the sleep it invited. Her eyelids refused to stay open, and the thought of a real bed with clean linens tugged at her senses, but the prospect of sleeping past the appointed hour and keeping Reverend Rainer waiting didn’t settle well.
After a polite inquiry to the owners of the establishment, Casey was led to the kitchen, where she used an iron to smooth out the wrinkles of her blue traveling dress. She’d rather have tackled an angry mama bear. Thank goodness Rose had taught her a few womanly