Kris laughed, as Matt no doubt expected, and left them to their billing and cooing. He really did have to finish his sermon before the service tomorrow.
The warmth of the banked fire in his parlor was a marked change from outside. It had gotten colder than he realized. He prayed the clouds massing to the north didn’t get organized and bring rain overnight. He spared a concerned prayer for those living in wagons and tents near the river. Floods could come with little warning. Though it was too late for snow, a heavy rain could be just as dangerous.
Kris built up the fire and settled into his favored chair, leaning toward the flames to warm his hands. It was hard to believe it was nearly spring.
Another year gone, and he remained in River’s Bend, still wondering if he’d truly heard God calling—or if it was the echo of his father’s wishes. While he was grateful for the friends he’d made here, he was tired of being alone at night.
An image of Maggie Flanaghan’s teasing smile filled his mind. She was the loveliest woman he’d ever known, and not just because she was beautiful on the outside. She was kind to everyone, no matter his or her station in life, and was someone who truly needed to help others. He enjoyed being with her, hearing her speak and laugh, holding her when she needed a strong shoulder.
Kris went still as he realized what God had put before him. A helpmate, certainly, but more importantly, someone he could easily grow to care for. Perhaps even grow to love.
But could she feel the same? True, she wanted to be useful, but that was different than wanting to share her life and her husband with a congregation. He would never trap her in a life she didn’t want, as he’d been.
Trapped? Kris dropped back in his chair and stared at the fire. Did he truly feel he’d been forced into this life? Or had he simply been prodded in the direction he’d been intended to go all along? An uncomfortable feeling settled low in his belly. Surely, he was following God’s plan for his life. Wasn’t he? Shoving to his feet, Kris went to put the finishing touches to his Easter sermon.
And wished with every step God would just write down His plan in a note.
CHAPTER EIGHT
As the nearly full moon made a showy appearance over the trees, the festival wound down until only a few folks remained. Children were nodding off in mothers’ arms, hampers and baskets were packed up with the remains of the feast, and horseshoe stakes were tugged from the ground.
“It was a wonderful evening, Reverend. We thank you for including us.”
Margaret watched from the corner of her eye as Kris shook the hand the man extended. “We are blessed that you could join us. Are you coming to the Social?”
The stocky, dark-skinned man glanced at the woman sitting with Margaret, holding their sleeping infant while four more children leaned on her or lay back on their blanket. “I don’t believe we will. The children have had a long day.”
“Where are you headed?”
“We’re traveling to my brother’s spread near Fort Laramie, provided it don’t rain any more before our turn at the ferry comes.”
“This early in the year, you could encounter snow that far north.” Kris hoped the man understood the dangers waiting for them on the open prairie.
“I thank you for your concern, but I think it’s best we get out of Missouri as fast as possible.”
Maggie wanted to argue that it was still too cold for his family, especially the younger children, who were shivering as the sun set and the fires burned down, but she understood the man’s reasons. Missouri was a state where slaves could legally be held. Free or not, an encounter with the wrong man—or men—could be disastrous for their family.
“I understand. If you need anything, or it gets too cold for the children, you come to the church. We will help.”
She was relieved to hear Kris’s offer. Not many in town would be so welcoming to a free black man and his family. It warmed her heart to know Kris meant what he said.
“I thank you, Reverend. The offer is appreciated, but we’ll manage.”
As the man walked away, another, then another, took his place from a long line of those waiting to thank the nice preacher. Maggie rolled her eyes, thinking they should thank the men and women of the congregation, since they did the work.
“I think everyone enjoyed themselves.” Kris was still smiling as he joined Maggie. “All the hard work was obviously appreciated. How about you?”
“I had a fine time, thank you. You have wonderful folks in your flock, Reverend.” Shivering a little, she buried her hands inside her cloak. Did she imagine that he moved a bit closer? Maggie inhaled, savoring the scent that was uniquely his and soaking in the warmth he shared.
“I think so, too, my dear.”
Maggie’s gaze snapped to his and was caught by the warmth she found there. “Kris?”