Mail-Order Christmas Baby. Sherri Shackelford

the reins. “No one knows anything. The employee who gave the child to the porter is missing. To tell the truth, I don’t think he even worked for Wells Fargo.”

      “The whole event was a hoax?”

      “Appears to be.”

      “Sure got everyone’s attention.”

      “I’m guessing that was the point. Someone wanted to make sure Heather and I were publicly named.”

      Otto scrambled in beside him. “What are you doing to do?”

      “I’m going to do what I should have done from the beginning.”

      The late start nipped at Sterling’s heels. At this rate, he’d have to speak with Heather after the services. A curious anticipation curled along his spine. He didn’t know why their names had been thrown together on that piece of paper, and it didn’t matter anymore. He’d had a lot of time for thinking on the way to Butte and back, and some things had become obvious.

      The ranch hands talked and laughed in their usual places in the back of the wagon. Rumors abounded in the bunkhouse, but Sterling wasn’t ready to address the speculation just yet. In the absence of an explanation, hushed conversations grew silent when he passed.

      The reverend’s words had rung in his ears the entire time he was searching for Grace’s true parents. Someone had treated the child with a reckless disregard for her safety. Anyone who did something that callous wasn’t coming back anytime soon. Since no one was looking for the child, he’d ruled out any other explanation.

      As the spire of the church appeared above the horizon, his stomach churned. The ride into town had seemed to take forever.

      The boys clambered out of the wagon and filed by in silence. The reverend was at his usual post—shaking hands in the doorway as people filed into the church. A number of wagons were already hitched beneath the trees. Overhead, slender branches held a few sparse, clinging leaves.

      One of the Forester children rang the church bell, his feet coming off the ground in his enthusiasm.

      Reverend Morris clasped Sterling on the shoulder and pulled him aside. “What did you discover?”

      “Nothing.” Sterling glanced around to ensure they had privacy. “No one knows anything about a missing child. The porter is gone. There’s no matching record for a Return of Birth on file in Silver Bow County. Nobody has reported a child missing, and I had the sheriff send telegrams as far as California.” The search had cost him a pretty penny. Money he didn’t have to spare. “I did everything I could.”

      “This is extremely troubling.”

      “Have you spoken with Heather?” Sterling peered around the reverend, hoping for a glimpse of her. “How is the child?”

      He wanted to give her a sign, something to let her know he’d come up with a plan to put her mind at ease. His arrival the previous evening had been too late for a respectable visit, and he couldn’t risk any more gossip.

      “Miss O’Connor arrived with the Foresters. She and the child are inside.” The reverend tugged on his collar. “People are extremely curious about the circumstances. I’m afraid your absence has only worsened the matter.”

      “Heather is with the Foresters?”

      “Yes. Apparently Mrs. Forester has been assisting her with the care of the child.”

      Irene Forester was a year or two older than Sterling, and had two young children. Dillon and her husband had been friends as children, which meant they’d be an ally as they weathered the worst of the storm. Knowing the family had already offered Heather their assistance eased his mind.

      Sterling doffed his hat and raked his hands through his hair. “Good. They can help.”

      “With what?”

      “With stemming the gossip.”

      “Then you claim no responsibility for the child?”

      “This isn’t about me anymore.”

      “I see.” The reverend yanked on his lapels. “I’m needed inside.”

      “Wait—”

      The reverend was swallowed by the tide of people entering the church, leaving the balance of Sterling’s explanation hanging in the air. He sucked in a breath and counted to ten. What did it matter whether he explained about Dillon now or after the service? Yet he’d been struck with a sense of urgency since making the decision. He was afraid if he thought about it for too long, he’d lose his nerve.

      He had a choice, and he chose to consider the child as a blessing. God had given him a second chance, and second chances didn’t come along too often.

      As he stepped inside, the eyes of the congregation swiveled toward him. His string tie was strangling him this morning, and he stuck a finger in his collar, then slid into a seat along the back row beside Otto.

      His height gave him an advantage, and he soon spotted Heather and Grace. She glanced over her shoulder and their gazes clashed. Her expression remained inscrutable, and his heart beat a rapid tattoo against his chest. He’d be seeing a lot of her in the future considering they were both going to be living on the same ranch, and he’d best get control of his feelings.

      The reverend assumed his place at the lectern, distracting her, and the moment was broken.

      Sterling spent the first half of the sermon rehearsing his confession to Heather. When he finally had the words just right in his head, the hairs on the back of his neck stirred.

      The folks in church were unusually restless, even for one of the reverend’s sermons. Several people in the congregation flicked glances over their shoulders in his direction, then quickly turned back toward the front.

      Sterling’s attention sharpened, and he focused on the man’s words. The reverend finished reading a letter from Corinthians that seemed awfully heavy on warnings against the immoral and admonishments against those who consorted with immoral people. A bead of sweat formed on the back of Sterling’s neck.

      The reverend set down his Bible, braced his hands on either side of the lectern, and stared down the congregation. “I am a deeply troubled man. I believe in a God who believes in love and compassion, and I believe in a God who believes in forgiveness.” He heaved a great sigh. “But I also believe in a set of moral codes. As a man of God, I find solace in a righteous path.”

      Several people shifted in their seats. Otto and Sterling exchanged a glance. Was it just his imagination, or had the sermon taken on a decidedly personal note?

      “A child has come into our community under extraordinary circumstances.”

      Sterling’s face burned. Nope. It wasn’t his imagination.

      “I have listened to the concerns of my community.” The volume of the reverend’s voice rose to a crescendo, reverberating directly into Sterling’s ears. “And I have answered your questions to the best of my ability. After much soul-searching, I have come to the conclusion that you cannot choose to live a life of sin and also join with us in worship, Mr. Blackwell and Miss O’Connor. You are no longer welcome among our congregation.”

      A collective gasp erupted. Sterling shot to his feet, along with Otto. Heather propped Grace on her hip as she scooted out of the pew. The brim of her hat covered her face, preventing him from reading her expression.

      As she rushed down the aisle, he caught her by the wrist before she reached the door. Her pulse beat rapidly beneath his fingertips. “Wait. We can explain. I can fix this.”

      Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I’m sorry.”

      Otto hitched his pants and threw back his shoulder. “Hold up on the fire and brimstone, Reverend. These two plan on getting hitched. Right now, if you like.”