An Outlaw's Redemption

Chapter Eighteen

Present Day – February 1867

Rachel shook her head. She couldn't believe the Reverend's account of how the story had been printed and the contrast to the truth. On the other hand, she knew that men were evil and whatever Weston was or had been, she knew he was a kind man, and she was certain he wouldn't lie to her; he was much unlike the stories she'd read of him.

The Reverend withdrew the wanted poster from his pocket and handed it to Weston who unfolded it as the Reverend said, "I've prayed for you every day since then. I'm so pleased to see you've found your redemption, but you will continue to be in my daily prayers."

Weston shook his head, "I'm afraid I'm not quite saved yet, Padre...but I'm working on it."

The minister smiled, "You know that church and school? Well, it was for this town. We have services twice a week. Once on Sunday and then a prayer meeting on Wednesday. I hope you'll join us for services."

Weston dipped his head as a soft smile softened his features, "You're a forgiving man." The minister smiled, "I was once also forgiven. If such is received, such it should be given. Yes, I do forgive you."

Rachel piped up, "Reverend...his identity must remain a secret. He is still wanted, but he's been given a second chance here."

The minister smiled and nodded, "I won't say a word. Redemption comes in many forms. While Jesus washes us clean and makes us new, sometimes people need more than that. Your new name suits you well, Mr. Clark."

Weston smiled and shoved his hand into his pocket and withdrew an old, worn out wallet. Opening it, he withdrew the five dollars plus three years' worth of interest, and handed it to the Reverend, "I believe this is yours."

The Reverend gasped, "Oh, son...there is no need."

Weston nodded, "Yes, there is. I told you if we ever met again, I would pay it back and then some. It's only right. Now, please, take it. It's not stolen, it's my wages over the last two months. I'd be thanking you if you'd allow me to repay a debt."

Reluctantly, the minister took the money, and said with tear filled eyes, "You are a good man. This life looks good on you." With a nod, the Reverend left them, and Weston led Rachel to the top of the stairs into her office/home. She tossed her purse onto the counter of her desk and turned to Weston as he shut the door behind them. Lighting a lamp, she saw a glimpse of moisture building in his eyes and he blinked against it.
Turning to her, his eyes full of disbelief, he simply said, "He forgave me..."

She nodded, "Yes, he did."

He choked on a breath, "N-no one's ever done that for me before..."

She smiled, "Would you —"

He cut her off, "I need to go."

A soft sigh escaped her lungs, "Alright...will I see you again soon?"

Dipping his head, he shrugged his shoulders, "I'm not sure. I suppose it depends on how much work Jack has planned." Looking up again to meet her gaze he added, "But I hope so." He placed his hat back on his head and dipped it to her, "Thank you for the dancing...and everything else. I enjoyed your company, Rachel." With that, he turned to retreat before she had a chance to say a word more to him but was stopped by a farmer running up the stairs to them.

"Doctor York, it's time ma'am!"

"Amos? I'm sure Dolly can handle it until we get there."

Amos Clydesdale shook his head, "I think the colt is stuck or something. She's been in pain for a while now."

Rachel turned to Barlow and without saying a word to him, he seemed to know and extended his arm, "I'll take you out there, Doc."