Page 29 of Taming Lady Temperance

He chanced a quick glance in her direction, then immediately ordered his gaze back to the cake. “Want some?”

Half a sandwich remained uneaten on her plate, but it seemed rude not to offer.

“I’m impressed you waited as long as you did to claim your dessert.” Her wry tone made him laugh at himself.

James shrugged. “I warned you it was weakness of mine.” And he suspected he was quickly developing another. One with big brown eyes and a smile that set his heart to pattering in his chest like summer rain on a tin roof.

“Since you’re serving, I’ll take a small piece.”

He carved a slice about half as thick as his own and set it on the edge of her plate.

“Thank you.”

James nodded, then forked a large bite into his mouth. Mmm. The inside tasted even better than the outer crust he’d snitched earlier. Only thing that would make it better was—

“Coffee?” Noreen had risen and retrieved the pot from the stove a couple of feet away and stood with the spout positioned over his empty cup.

“Please.”

She was not making his resolution to think of her in friendly terms very easy to keep.

After filling his cup, she returned the pot to the stove and resumed her seat. “Does this mean we’re done discussing the rally?”

James took a sip of the steaming brew as he pieced together his answer. “When you settle at the saloon for your prayer meeting, you cannot block the entrance or impede anyone from going in or coming out. Probably shouldn’t block the walkway, either. And since you’ll be on Main Street, you’ll need to allow enough space on the road that a wagon and team can get through without the driver having to worry about running anyone over.”

“If we have enough participants to clog the street, I’ll be overjoyed.” Her pencil fell from her fingers as she turned hope-filled eyes on him. “Do you really think that many people will attend the rally?”

For her sake, he hoped so. For his sake? Well, it’d be easier to manage a small group than a crowd that could turn mobbish at any moment, but the longer they talked, the less he cared about making things easy on himself.

“‘With God all things are possible.’”

Noreen nodded. “Something tells me I should start praying about this now. It will likely be a month before the event takes place, but I’ll pray that hearts will be opened to the temperance message.”

“You might pray for Taggert, too.” James’s heart thumped hard against his ribs as he anticipated her reaction. He’d been thinking about this ever since he’d found her going toe-to-toe with the saloon owner, but he hadn’t known how to bring it up. Until now.

“Pray for Mr. Taggert? Why?” Her face scrunched at the distasteful notion, then all at once it cleared. “Oh yes, I should ask the Lord to block his attempts to interfere with the rally. Good thought.”

“No, Noreen. That’s not what I meant.” James sighed as he straightened, abandoning the last of his cake.

A guarded mask fell over her face, banishing all the softness he’d been admiring. “What did you mean, then?”

“When I told my dad that I’d taken this deputy position, he pulled me aside and gave me some advice that I’ve done my best to follow over the past five years. It hasn’t been easy, but it tends to keep the regret at bay.”

“And you think I’m in need of this same advice?”

He cringed inwardly at the primness of her tone. Gone was the warmth, the teasing, the comradery they’d been enjoying. Her hackles had been raised, and he was bound to get jabbed by a few of them before this was over. Nevertheless, he plunged in with both feet.

“I think everyone’s in need of this advice. Pretty sure that’s why Jesus included it in his Sermon on the Mount.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, and he continued before the tiny opening in her defenses slammed closed.

“My dad warned me against viewing myself as better than the criminals I battle. Yes, it’s my job to bring them to justice and to protect others from their wicked deeds, but they are still people. People loved and cherished by God. They might hate me and despise what I stand for, but I can’t let their feelings dictate mine. I’ve been called to love my enemies by a God who died on a cross for his. To do good to those who hate me by the one who healed the severed ear of his accuser. To pray for those who persecute me by the one who asked his Father to forgive those who spat on him, scourged him, and hung him on a tree.”

Noreen’s eyebrows slashed downward as her mouth tightened. “I don’t harbor hatred in my heart for Mr. Taggert, if that’s what you’re trying to say.” Her hands stabbed the air like jousting lances. “I’m not fond of the man, but I don’t wish for any harm to actually befall him.”

“Okay. But do you pray for his good?”

Her arms crisscrossed her midsection like a shield. “Not when his good brings harm to others.” Her voice cracked, and so did James’s heart. “The more he and his saloon prosper, the more destruction drunken men bring home to their wives and children. That is not the Lord’s will.” She pushed away from the table and jerkily grabbed up her notebook and the empty supper basket.