Free Margaret Brownley - [Rocky Creek 02] by A Suitor for Jenny

Joe,” he said. Taking her cue, he stood and saluted her. He then walked away, his wooden leg pounding the wood plank floor like a hammer.
    Jenny sat down with a sigh. She’d only conducted two interviews but already she felt exhausted. The last interview was almost as laughable as Rhett thinking he and Mary Lou would be a match.
    Pushing the thought out of her mind, she rose to greet the next candidate.

Seven
    No marriage-minded woman should engage in rowdy behavior,
coarse language, or gossip. Such disagreeable habits can only be
broken with unyielding vigilance.
    — M ISS A BIGAIL J ENKINS , 1875
    T hat Sunday, Jenny pulled up in front of the white clapboard Rocky Creek church in a carriage rented from the livery stable. The church stood on a hill overlooking the town. The building listed to the side like a slow-sinking ship. The clapboards were warped and the edges of the tin roof curled upward. Still, with all its faults, the church was in better shape than any of the buildings in town.
    According to the sign out front, it had been built shortly after Texas became a state in 1845. Behind the church was a cemetery surrounded by woods.
    “I still don’t see why we have to go to worship,” Mary Lou complained. “We never went to church in Haswell.”
    “Haswell didn’t have a church,” Jenny said. What Haswell had was a circuit preacher who rode into town every six months with a Bible in one hand and a six-shooter in the other.
    The explanation did nothing to relieve her guilt. She couldn’t remember the last time she prayed or read the Bible. After that terrible winter when she and her sisters practically starved to death, everything changed, even her relationship with God.
    Especially her relationship with God.
    She waited for her sisters to climb out of the wagon.
    “Save me a seat,” she called. With a click of her tongue, she snapped the reins and drove off to find a place to park.
    Ignoring the stares of other churchgoers, Jenny followed the narrow footpath toward the double doors. A knot started in her stomach and worked its way upward until it felt like a rock in her throat.
    She wasn’t even certain she belonged here. She swallowed hard. Dressed in her finest attire, she looked like a lady but felt like a hypocrite. How did things go so terribly wrong?
    Surprised to find herself shaking, she took a deep breath. She couldn’t do this. Not yet. Maybe never. She whirled about and started back toward the carriage.
    Without warning, she was accosted from behind.
    Startled, she turned to find herself staring down into the sunny, bright face of an adorable little girl whom she guessed was around two. Clinging to Jenny’s skirt, the child stared up at her, her eyes rounded in surprise. Apparently, she had mistaken Jenny for her mother.
    The little girl pulled away and started to run off again, but spying a woman she suspected to be the child’s mother, Jenny caught the little girl around the waist and held on to her.
    From a short distance away, a woman hobbled down the path toward them, one hand on her protruding belly.
    “Elizabeth Wells, I’m gonna tan your hide,” the woman called, the loving smile on her face contradicting her words. She was still smiling when she reached them, though terribly out of breath.
    She held out her hand. “I’m Sarah Wells, the preacher’s wife. You must be one of the sisters I heard so much ’bout.”
    “Jenny Higgins.” Keeping one hand on the squirming toddler, she shook Sarah’s hand with the other. The woman’s hair, red as a hen’s comb, was almost the same color as her well-worn boots. Giving no heed to fashion, she wore her hair loose down her back beneath a man’s felt hat.
    “This here is Elizabeth,” Sarah said, taking her young daughter by the hand. “Say hello to the nice lady.”
    Elizabeth gave Jenny a shy smile but said nothing.
    Jenny smiled back. “I’m pleased to meet you, Elizabeth.” She was a pretty little girl with long blonde hair