hands,” the reverend said. “Hard to say. May have picked them up at school.”
“You took on a big job with our grandson.” Mrs. Rainer leaned in closer to the table. “Morgan and Grant had their rebellious moments, as most boys do. But neither of them compared to the ugliness I see in Zack.”
Travis wondered if he’d lost some of his God-given good sense to try to help Zack. But the boy despised him, and his actions could cause a preacher to lose his faith.
“I’m sure God will give me direction,” Travis said.
“More like a coat of armor.” The reverend half chuckled. “Seriously, he didn’t used to be this way.”
Travis nodded. “Pretty close to his father?”
“They did everything together,” the reverend said. “Zack didn’t cry at the funeral and has been like this ever since.”
Mrs. Rainer dabbed at her eyes. “Bonnie lost her papa at his age, too. I feel sorry for Zack, but he’s shutting us all out from his life. I pray military school won’t be necessary. Then I’m afraid we’ll lose him for good.”
“I’m not familiar with any to recommend, and,” Travis paused to carefully form his words, “I’m not family. My intentions are not to interfere but to help.” He hesitated. “Since Zack lost his father, I really don’t want to see him lose the rest of his family, too.”
“I agree,” the reverend said. “The problem is if he doesn’t learn to control his temper, Michael Paul, Lydia Anne, and Bonnie will not be safe. Sure glad Morgan settled the problem with the saddle. For once, Zack might have told the truth.”
Travis silently agreed. He started to apologize for continuing an unpleasant topic during dinner, but someone knocked at the door.
Mrs. Rainer excused herself to answer it. Most likely she was pleased not to discuss her grandson’s wild ways.
“Evenin’, Grant. Are you alone?”
“Yes, just me, Mama.”
“How about some coffee and pie?”
“Sounds good. I need to talk to the reverend and Brother Travis.”
“You can do both.”
While greetings were made and pie and coffee served, Travis noted that Grant resembled his mother with light coloring, although his hair was darker than hers and Mrs. Kahler’s. Worry lines furrowed Grant’s forehead.
“We had another problem at Heaven’s Gate last night.” Grant nodded at Travis. “That’s a home where women can find shelter from ways of life that don’t honor God.”
“The reverend mentioned it to me. I believe your wife, Morgan’s wife, and Mrs. Hillman oversee the home.”
“Yes. We’ve had a few instances of late that alarm us.” He glanced at his mother.
“Go ahead, Grant. I know what’s been happening there,” she said.
“The same girl who was beaten about six weeks ago was beaten again.” He laid his fork beside the plate. “I treated Rosie. Tried to get her to tell me who’d hurt her, but she refused to give me a name. She has to be covering up for someone, but who? And why?”
“You want me to talk to her?” the reverend said.
“I’d appreciate it. I’m afraid she might not survive another beating. If we could find out who’s responsible, then we could have him arrested.”
“Do you mind if I ask a question?” Travis said. Once Grant and the reverend affirmed him, he braved forward. “So this young woman worked in a house of ill repute?”
“Yes, but she’s been living for the Lord almost a year,” the reverend said. “She’s barely twenty years old and has been attending church. Bonnie and Jenny have been teaching her how to read and write, and she’s been doing housework for Sylvia Hillman. Now that is a good woman. She volunteers more than Bonnie and Jenny. She wanted to take Rosie home with her, but the girl refused.”
“Do you have a suspect?”
“I don’t,” Grant said. “No one has seen any men around Heaven’s Gate, unless she’s slipping out at night.” He leaned back on the legs of his chair. “There’s no reason to keep the man’s name secret unless he’s threatened to kill her.”
“I remember the last time,” Mrs. Rainer said. “How badly is she hurt?”
Grant set his jaw. “Ugly. Makes me want to tear someone apart.”
“I can tell by the look on your face that I need to leave the room.” She stood from the table and picked up a few of the empty dishes. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
“Thanks, Mama.” Grant waited until the door between the dining room and kitchen closed. “I’ll be real honest here. Whoever is beating Rosie is careful not to damage her face. She’s black and blue from