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“Reverend?”
She turned. The girl—Grace—stood behind her. Colleen composed her face into a smile.
“How are you, child?”
“Better now I’ve rested, Reverend.”
Colleen frowned and stood up. “You still look a little pale.”
“I’m okay.” Grace rubbed at her arms beneath the thick smock.
“How are they healing?” Colleen asked.
“Just itchy.”
“Let me look.”
Reluctantly, the girl let Colleen unbutton her cuffs and roll up the sleeves. Angry welts criss-crossed both arms. Along the line of the veins, at least a dozen old bruises and puncture wounds.
Before Colleen had rescued Grace, she had been a sinner, condemned to damnation. Colleen had freed her, in the same way she herself had been emancipated. But conversion to the side of the Lord did not come without sacrifice. Colleen rose and wrapped her arms around the girl. She felt frail. Skin and bones.
“You are doing so well, Grace. Your devotion will be rewarded. Why don’t you go and make a start on dinner? We cannot fight the good fight on empty bellies.”
She smiled at the girl as she walked back across the chapel. A door at the rear led to private quarters where the pair shared a small bedroom, bathroom and kitchen.
Colleen was just about to follow her when the front door to the chapel swung open. A flurry of snow and a blast of icy wind blew in, along with a figure in a thick, hooded jacket.
Grace turned. “Oh, good evening, Mr. Mowlam.”
The teacher smiled charmingly. “Evening, Grace. You look very…serene.”
A faint flush spread up Grace’s cheeks.
“Grace,” Colleen snapped. “Could you give us a moment?”
Grace nodded, bowed her head and disappeared into their quarters.
Mowlam watched her go. “Pretty girl. A little pale.” He turned to Colleen. “Hope living with you isn’t taking too much out of her?”
Colleen gripped the pew in front of her tightly. “Why are you here?”
Mowlam sauntered toward her. “You hear about the Doc?”
“Yes.” The town grapevine had spread the news of Dr. Dalton’s suicide. “A tragedy. I wish he had come to me before taking his own life. Maybe I could have helped.”
“Oh, I think we both know that the Doc was beyond help.”
Mowlam regarded her with a glint in his eye. He was a handsome man, but Colleen knew trouble when she met it.
“Is that supposed to mean something?” she asked.
“Well, it would be pretty convenient for some people around here if the Doc wasn’t able to talk to that new detective.”
“Inconvenience isn’t a reason for murder.”
He shrugged. “Depends. I mean, everyone has secrets. Even those who claim to be holier than thou.”
She kept her voice steady. “None of us are without sin, Mr. Mowlam. As the Good Lord said, ‘I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.’ ”
