to the baby’s mother. “It’s very brave of you, letting a woman like her hold your baby. But perhaps you haven’t heard...”
With the pain of not having children heavy in her mind, Emma Jane handed the baby back to her mother. “Thank you for letting me hold Hannah. She is a dear.”
She turned to leave to avoid making a scene, but Flora blocked her path.
“You haven’t heard about our dear Emma Jane, have you?”
Pamela’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve been in Denver, visiting my parents.”
“After the church picnic, we were caught in a terrible storm,” Flora said. “Jasper found shelter for us at a nearby farm. When we were supposed to be getting ready to bed down for the night, Emma Jane lured him outside, then pushed him into an abandoned mine. She jumped in, and when they were found the next morning, her dress was in tatters.”
“I did no such thing!” Emma Jane had gone for a walk to clear her head after listening to Flora’s taunts. Well, all right, she’d run out of the barn crying. But Flora had been particularly cruel, telling the other girls that Emma Jane was going to be sold into a brothel. Not that Emma Jane would ever admit to Flora how those horrible rumors had affected her. For whatever reason, Flora had always picked on Emma Jane—had done so ever since they were in school together. Though Emma Jane had often wished she knew what she’d done to offend the other girl, mostly Emma Jane wished Flora would just leave her alone.
Emma Jane straightened her shoulders. “I’d gone for a walk and fallen into an abandoned mine. I had no idea Jasper was out there. He heard my cries for help and, in trying to rescue me, fell in, too.”
She looked at Pamela, hoping she’d be sympathetic. “Truly, it was all just a terrible accident, and nothing untoward happened. Pastor Lassiter married us himself, and he would never have done so had any real harm been done.”
The woman nodded slowly. But Flora wasn’t finished yet. She gave Emma Jane a nasty smile, baring the points of her teeth before turning to the baby’s mother. “I’m sure that’s what Emma Jane would like people to believe. But Mrs. Jackson told me herself. The Logans would have ruined them. They told the sheriff that Jasper...” Flora lowered her voice. “Took liberties.”
“Jasper would never do that!” Emma Jane stared at the other girl, horrified that she would spread such vicious lies about Jasper.
“Of course he wouldn’t.” Flora’s voice lacked any kindness. “No man would even consider you in that way. You are, after all, most unfortunate in your appearance.”
The pitying look Flora gave Emma Jane made her realize that not even the finest dress would ever make her pretty. After all, Flora was the very picture of everything a woman ought to be, with her golden blond curls and bright blue eyes. Emma Jane’s hair was also blond, her eyes blue. But the blond was stringy and streaked with brown, and the girls used to tease her that it must be dirty. And her blue eyes had brown flecks in them that Flora had said came from being evil.
Even though Emma Jane knew in her head that Flora’s accusations weren’t true, it didn’t make the cold lump in the pit of her stomach go away.
Flora was right about one thing, however. She had nothing to attract a man like Jasper into wanting to be her husband.
Still, the dig on Emma Jane’s appearance was not enough for Flora, whose eyes glittered with a kind of blood lust.
“But what I don’t understand is why you went along with the lies, unless, of course, you were telling them yourself.”
A sickeningly sweet smile followed Flora’s last statement, and she turned her attention back toward Pamela. “Jasper was so disappointed about being railroaded into the marriage that he spent the night...” Flora looked around, then lowered her voice. “In a place of ill repute.”
The fact which every woman in church was still whispering about. But they didn’t have the whole story.
“He was helping Will Lawson—a lawman—rescue an innocent young lady from the clutches of an outlaw.” Emma Jane spoke louder than was polite, but hopefully some of the other gossiping women would finally hear the truth.
“So you say.” Flora flipped open her fan, then smiled at Pamela. “I just thought I’d warn you so you understood why none of the good families in Leadville are extending invitations to this woman. Bad company corrupting good character and all that.”
With a final nasty grin, Flora flounced over to her seat in a pew a few rows up. Emma Jane gave the woman they’d been talking to a weak smile. “I’m sorry you were dragged into this. I sincerely appreciate your kindness to me, and I assure you that I’ve been nothing but honest with you.”
The woman’s noncommittal murmur spoke volumes. Flora’s words had poisoned any hope Emma Jane had of even being able to delight in someone else’s child.
Then Emma Jane spotted Mrs. Jackson heading in her direction.
“Stop dawdling.” Jasper’s mother took Emma Jane by the elbow. “We are to be an example for the rest of the church, and you’re making a spectacle of yourself.”
“Yes, Mrs. Jackson.”
Face heated, she sat in the Jackson pew where Mrs. Jackson indicated, trying to enjoy the feel of the velvet cushions rather than the hard wooden benches the rest of the church endured. Mr. Jackson, Jasper’s father, leaned into Emma Jane. “Where’s Jasper?”
“He went to talk to the sheriff,” she answered, further conversation being cut off by the sound of the organ’s first chords.
After the hymns, Pastor Lassiter spoke, sharing the need for the church community to continue to rally around the women who’d been displaced in the brothel fire. While some of the women had moved on to other houses of ill repute, many had nowhere else to go.
Emma Jane tried to focus her attention back on the pastor’s sermon, but she found herself unable to think beyond the poor women who’d been left homeless. Like Emma Jane, they were deemed unworthy and unlovable by the rest of society.
And yet, not one of them judged Emma Jane for the disgraced circumstances of being forced to marry. They all treated Emma Jane like she was a real lady, worthy of respect. Emma Jane had even become friends with a colorful woman named Nancy.
Emma Jane twisted around to see if Nancy had shown up at the church yet. The so-called fallen women often arrived after the service started, leaving before it ended to avoid ridicule.
Marriage hadn’t brought Emma Jane any closer to finding respectability, but perhaps helping with the pastor’s ministry, people would finally see her as a good Christian woman. Maybe then she would finally have the acceptance that had eluded her for most of her life.
* * *
Jasper Jackson stood at the back of the church, listening as Pastor Lassiter concluded his sermon. He hadn’t intended to miss church, but he’d been caught up in talking to the sheriff to figure out their next move.
The newly acquired badge heavy in his pocket, Jasper couldn’t help but touch it one more time. Him. A deputy. All his life, he’d wanted to do something important, but every time he tried to find his significance, his mother cited the need to carry on the Jackson legacy. She’d sob and tell him she’d been lucky to have even him, and he couldn’t spoil it by...well, she’d have a fit of vapors for sure when he shared his news.
But this time, he would not be swayed.
A woman had died saving Jasper’s life the night of the brothel fire. In the heat of an argument with the bandits, Jasper had acted foolishly, and the bandits started firing on them. Mel pushed him out of the way, getting shot in the process. Mel. A woman of the night. Not the kind of woman a man owed any kind of honor to, but she’d done the most honorable thing a person could do—she’d taken a bullet meant for him. He’d promised Mel that he’d find and rescue her sister, Daisy, from the gang of bandits that held her. The