Molly Noble Bull by The Winter Pearl Read Free Book Online

either.”
    “Robbed?” Honor’s hands began to shake. “Was I robbed?”
    Mrs. Peters nodded.
    Honor remembered getting out of the stagecoach, but nothing after that. She’d planned to mail whatever money she had left back to the church in Falling Rock, but now she had nothing and no way to begin to repay what she’d stolen.
    “I know you must have a lot of questions,” Mrs. Peters said softly. “And I’m sure my son will answer every one of them just as soon as he gets back to the house.”
    “Where is Reverend Peters?”
    “He went over to our church to check on things. A preacher’s work is never done. But he’ll be back before you know it. The church is just down the road.” Mrs. Peters patted Honor’s shoulder again. “Why don’t you lie down and try to rest until he gets here? Or would you like something to eat? I have warm chicken soup in the kitchen. Would you like some?”
    Honor shook her head. “Maybe later. But thank you for asking.”
    “You know,” Mrs. Peters said, “according to my son, you’re a very nice person.”
    “Me?” Honor put her hand to her chest.
    Mrs. Peters nodded. “My son is a pretty good judge of character, and I just know he’s right about you.”
    What would Mrs. Peters say if she knew Honor had robbed the collection plate from a church? The preacher might think he was a good judge of people, but he wasn’t. Nobody knew that better than Honor.

Chapter Four
    H onor woke the second time that day to the scent of roses. A white vase filled with flowers sat on a table at the end of her bed. She guessed that Mrs. Peters had brought in the arrangement while she slept. When she heard a noise in the hallway she turned her gaze to the doorway.
    Jeth Peters entered the room. “So, how are you feeling?” he asked warmly.
    “Fine.” Honor tried to return his smile, but all she could think about was how stiff he looked. With his hands behind his back and his legs planted apart, he reminded her of a toy soldier—one of the tin men she played with as a child.
    She liked the look of his dark curly hair and his blue eyes, but he seemed so self-conscious and uncomfortable in her presence. Could it be that all preachers turned into toy soldiers when alone in a room with a woman? Honor pulled the covers higher on her neck lest he become even more embarrassed.
    “You took a big whack on the head,” Jeth said. “We’ve been worried about you.”
    We? Who did he mean? Could Lucas have come here while she was sleeping? A chill ran down her back. “Who’s ‘we’?” she asked.
    “Me, my mother, Mr. and Mrs. Carr, the stagecoach driver, and almost everybody else in Hearten.” He moved to the table at the end of her bed and pulled a pink rose from the arrangement. “Mama sure likes flowers. In the spring and summer her garden is full of them.” Jeth offered her the rose.
    Honor waved a hand, refusing his gift. Lucas had given her aunt flowers whenever he’d wanted something in return. Honor had nothing to give.
    As Jeth continued to hold out the pink flower, she saw that it was made of silk. So the scent she’d noted was rosewater. How had she not realized such an obvious fact immediately?
    Honor looked back at Jeth. “Would you mind telling me exactly what happened? I still don’t remember much.”
    Jeth returned the flower to the vase. Facing her, he again stuck his hands behind his back. “When you got off the stage, one of the outlaws caught you trying to hide your money and hit you over the head with the butt of his gun. Our entire congregation is praying for you.”
    “Was anyone else hurt?”
    He shook his head, and she saw his shoulders relax a little. “The rest of us did exactly as the robbers said to do—especially after we saw what happened to you.”
    Jeth paused, as though he expected her to reply. When she didn’t say anything, he stepped to the window near the foot of her bed and turned his back toward her.
    Honor sat up. The pain in her head had