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datatime: 2022-10-08 03:46:42 Author:JlLKBSEg

She stepped back, surprised. "I was just--"

Trying to save your brother's life. He's no doubt dead by now.

Oh no she cried. "I can't believe Papa would--"

No ma'am, it's like the devil himself, that's what it's like The spirit of evil

How could you save him?

Oh no she cried. "I can't believe Papa would--"

It was the death of his plans he was facing, and his wife just had too much of that Miller family look about her. She was pretty enough, for a frontier woman, but he didn't care about pretty right now. He didn't care about sweet nights and gentle mornings. He didn't care about her working alongside him in the store. All he cared about was shame and rage.

Thrower knelt at the altar and cried out the name of the Lord. "Forgive thou my unbelief" He recited a litany of self-excoriation, he rehearsed all his failures of the day, until at last he was exhausted.

She stepped back, surprised. "I was just--"

That was his thinking, and he was about to throw himself on his knees and bawl like a baby and beg forgiveness. He would've done it, too, except that when she saw the look on his face, all twisted up with shame and rage, she didn't know that he was angry at himself, she just knew that he was hurting her, and so she did what come natural to a woman who grew up like she did. She moved her fingers to make a fending, and whispered a word to hold him back.

Oh no she cried. "I can't believe Papa would--"

He stripped off his cloak, and his topcoat as well. The church was hot. The fire in the stove must have burned longer than he expected. Or maybe he felt the heat of shame.

You got to get that wet shirt off. How'd you get snow clear down your shirt?

Tell that to your pa

I do believe you, it just ain't like Pa--

What were you doing up at the house?

Oh no she cried. "I can't believe Papa would--"

Reverend Thrower opened the door of the church and walked slowly, fearfully inside. He could not bear to face the Visitor, knowing how he had failed. For it had been his own failure, he knew that now. Satan should have had no power over him, to drive him from the house that way. An ordained minister, acting as the emissary of the Lord, following instructions given to him by an angel -- Satan should not have been able to thrust him out of the house like that, before he even knew what was happening.

See? You don't even believe your own husband.

Thrower knelt at the altar and cried out the name of the Lord. "Forgive thou my unbelief" He recited a litany of self-excoriation, he rehearsed all his failures of the day, until at last he was exhausted.

She stepped back, surprised. "I was just--"

What were you doing up at the house?

How could you save him?

What were you doing up at the house?

He stripped off his cloak, and his topcoat as well. The church was hot. The fire in the stove must have burned longer than he expected. Or maybe he felt the heat of shame.

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