Free The Maverick Preacher by Victoria Bylin

whispered.
    The reverend turned back to Adie. What did he see? She’d have sold her soul to protect Stephen, but she couldn’t lie worth beans. Blood rushed to her cheeks.
    “I’m desperate,” he said to her. “Emily and I parted with unkind words. It was my fault.”
    Tremors raced from Adie’s chest to her hands. Her throat went dry and the room started to spin. She needed water but didn’t dare lift the goblet for fear of spilling it.
    Bessie interrupted. “What will you do when you find her?”
    “I’ll take her home.”
    “And the baby?” Mary asked.
    “Of course.”
    Pearl raised her chin. “What if she doesn’t want to go?”
    “I won’t force her,” he answered. “But I hope she’ll listen to reason.”
    Adie knew all about “reason.” Reverend Honeycutt had deemed it reasonable for her to leave Liddy’s Grove while Timothy Long got nothing but a talking-to. She’d had to fight him off and had earned bruised ribs in the effort. Fuming, she managed a bite of bread.
    Caroline’s plate sat untouched. “What do you know about the baby’s father?”
    “Nothing.”
    “I hope you find her,” Bessie said. “A single woman could have a hard time, especially with a baby. Do you have a picture of her?”
    Adie went pale.
    “Not anymore,” he said. “I lost it in a river crossing.”
    The women mumbled condolences, even Adie though she felt like a liar. She was glad he’d lost the likeness of his sister. Without a picture she could dismiss the similarities between Emily and Maggie as coincidence. At least that’s what she wanted to believe. In truth, she was already telling lies. Reverend Blue didn’t have a picture of his sister, but Adie had one of Maggie Butler. The tintype, brownish in color, showed an oval of Maggie’s face and was framed by white cardboard.
    The picture had the potential to end this man’s search. If Maggie and Emily were the same woman, it also had the power to rob Adie of her son. Concealing it made her feel dishonest, but she’d made a promise to Maggie. No matter the cost, she had to protect Stephen from his uncle.
    “Adie?” Bessie’s voice broke into her thoughts. “The reverend asked you a question.”
    “Your son,” he repeated. “What’s his name?”
    “Stephen.”
    His eyes turned wistful. “That was my grandfather’s name.”
    How many coincidences could she ignore? Desperate to avoid more questions, she raised her water glass to her lipsand took a long sip. The liquid went down the wrong pipe and she choked.
    “Raise your arms,” Bessie ordered.
    The coughing racked Adie’s body. Bessie and Reverend Blue both shot to their feet. He was closer and reached her first. Both gentle and strong, he gripped her shoulder and thumped her back.
    “I’m—” Fine. She choked again.
    He patted harder.
    Adie shoved to her feet. She needed air that didn’t smell like roast and darkness that would hide her eyes as she weighed the facts. She signaled that she could breathe, then headed for the porch, where she coughed until tears streamed down her cheeks.
     
    Josh hadn’t meant to upset Adie. Since the trip to the bank, he’d figured she and Emily had walked a similar road. Now he was sure of it. Had she been shunned by her family? How had she come to own Swan’s Nest? He also wondered about the father of her child. Any man worth his salt would have married her. Josh wasn’t naive about the force of nature. He’d performed a shotgun wedding in Boston and two others since coming west.
    He’d have performed one for Emily if he’d had the opportunity. Looking back, he saw signs that she’d been keeping a secret. For years she’d volunteered one day a week at the Greenway Home for Orphans. A few months before their argument, she’d been working three days a week and staying late. One day he’d expected her to be visiting Sarah and had paid a call. Sarah had been home, but Emily hadn’t been with her. Three hours later she’d arrived home flushed