Prairie Storm by Catherine Palmer Page B

Beatrice had no right to the melodeon.
    On the other hand, Lily felt a certainty—a mixture of dread and anticipation—that Beatrice Waldowski would be back.

Chapter 4
    E LI STOOD inside the empty church building, the baby wriggling fitfully on his blanket inside a small produce box on the floor. Through bleary eyes, the preacher squinted at the gaudy show wagon in the distance and prayed that Lily Nolan would hurry. He hadn’t slept more than half an hour the whole night. Samuel had hollered and howled. He’d messed his britches three or four times—Eli had lost count. And he wouldn’t eat a thing. It seemed that once the baby had tasted mother’s milk again, he wouldn’t settle for anything else.
    Eli had been sorely tempted to go to the traveling-show wagon and rouse Mrs. Nolan to feed Samuel. But he knew that he’d frightened and insulted her at the Hankses’ house the night before. And both he and Sam had paid for his carelessness.
    And so Elijah had counted the hours until dawn, his sermon ideas lost somewhere in the haze of his sleep-deprived mind. As Eli stood waiting for the congregation to arrive, Sam began to wail. Then Eli noticed that the show wagon was starting to pull away from the campsite onto the main road.
    What? Lily was leaving?
    Eli groaned. Why had he expected more of her? Obviously the actress was a gypsy at heart, unable to commit to home and family, unwilling to labor at decent work, unfeeling and hard-hearted. Now what was he going to do?
    â€œHoo, that is one loud baby you got there, Brother Elijah.” He turned to see Mother Margaret stepping into the church. Clad in a bright yellow dress tied with a crisp white apron, she was a ray of sunshine. Her dark eyes sparkled with joy. “You’re liable to scare off more than the devil this mornin’.”
    Eli raked his fingers through his hair and mustered a smile. “Mornin’, Mrs. Hanks. I reckon it is pretty loud in here, thanks to my buddy Sam. I don’t imagine we’re going to draw much of a crowd.”
    â€œWhere’s Miss Lily?”
    â€œHeading out.” He shrugged in the direction of the window. “The wagon is rolling toward Topeka right now.”
    â€œMercy, mercy, mercy.” Mother Margaret leaned over the sill and stared into the distance. “I do declare, I thought better of that pretty little gal. I was hopin’ she’d caught a glimpse of heaven last night, but I guess the Lord’s gonna have to knock her upside the head to get her attention. She’s runnin’ from him like a cat with its tail afire.”
    Eli nodded. “I reckon you’re right, Mother Margaret. Something sure set her against God—and it was probably me.”
    â€œDon’t blame yourself. The Lord has a good plan for each person’s life. But the devil makes plans, too, don’t you know? His schemes are low-down and wicked, and he’ll try all kinds of sneaky tricks to keep people off the straight and narrow.”
    â€œAmen to that.”
    â€œNow, you better give that baby to me, Brother Elijah, and I’ll see if I can get something into his belly while you preach your sermon. Mercy, he’s a skinny thing. Puts up quite a fuss for bein’ so weak and scrawny.”
    Eli studied the old woman as she hunched over the flailing bundle of damp blankets that had become his greatest burden. If he’d known what trouble a baby could bring, Eli wondered, would he have rescued Sam from his dying mother’s arms?
    Yes.
    For some reason he couldn’t explain, he had known God meant him to take the baby. He knew, even now, that he was supposed to care for Samuel. But, Lord, have mercy on my weary bones , he lifted up in prayer. And please send help!
    â€œYonder comes your flock, Brother Elijah,” Mother Margaret said as she gave the baby a firm pat on his back. “What you plannin’ to preach on today?”
    Eli let