The Preacher's Wife

Chapter 2

"For the Lord does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart." 1 Samuel 16:7b

Three Months Earlier

The newly established Union Church of Dodge stood on the corner of First and Spruce Streets, a small wood frame building with rows of hard pews facing a plain large cross that hung behind a podium. Each Sunday morning dozens of town faithful gathered to hear the Reverend Frederick Wright preach the word of God. Despite his inexperience, the enthusiastic young pastor had begun his very first assignment with complete faith in his ability to turn Dodge City into a town that less resembled Sodom and Gomorrah.

Frederick Wright was the son of a minister and seemed to have been destined to become one himself. His father, The Reverend Charles Wright, led The Plymouth Congregational Church of Lawrence, the first church of its kind in the territory. Miraculously, the church had survived the famous Lawrence Massacre of 1863, when pro-Confederate guerilla William Quantrill led a raid which left almost 200 dead and most buildings burned to the ground. Charles Wright saw his survival and that of his church as a sign that God had great plans for him. A widower since Frederick's birth, he dragged his small son around town with him as he preached at local saloons and other businesses, convinced that God had instilled in him the ability to turn Lawrence from its wicked ways. It was a losing battle—he had underestimated the population's fondness for drinking, gambling, and women—and Charles took the failure particularly hard. He threw himself into his son's religious education, and Frederick turned out to be a quick study. An incredibly bright child and early reader, he could quote Bible verses like a scholar by the time he was eight. It was to his advantage to get all the words right, as his father neither spared the rod nor spoiled the child in his devotion to Biblical parenting. Had his wife lived, Charles was sure his son would have received the nurturing that the weaker sex had been equipped to provide—but he was a man, and Frederick would have to make do with the one parent God had given him.

As an adult preacher, Frederick was a confident speaker with a booming voice and polished delivery that captured the attention of even the least enthusiastic worshippers. His sermons were known to last well over an hour, carefully crafted to blend a few comforting assurances about God's mercy and grace with the vivid descriptions of hell. He had learned that people didn't always like fire and brimstone, but he could soften the blow with some flowery verses about love that made this important message more palatable. The worn Bible he always carried was frequently slammed down on the podium for effect, ensuring that there was never a soul who slept through church. It was a trick he had learned from his father.

Julia Wright was the new preacher's wife, a plain woman who looked like she might be quite attractive with a small amount of attention to detail. Her blonde hair hung loosely below her shoulders and often looked like it could use a good brushing. Like most blondes she had pale skin, and without makeup her light brows and lashes did nothing to accent her lovely blue eyes. Her petite figure was well hidden under her few modest dresses, which her husband had picked out as appropriate for church. He told her he wanted her to look good enough to show proper respect to God, but not so good that anyone else should notice. And for the most part, they didn't.

She had tried to make friends with the other women at church, but no one seemed comfortable talking to Julia. She naturally blamed herself, not considering that it had much more to do with the fact that she was standing next to a man who was so intimidating. While his words were usually polite and appropriate, his manner was arrogant. Having received his Doctor of Divinity from the University of Kansas, he was quick to refer to himself as "Reverend Doctor Frederick Wright" in order to impress upon this largely uneducated town his superiority of knowledge. After three months, the congregation still wasn't sure what to make of this overbearing man who served as the inaugural head of the church they had worked so hard to build. They wanted to like him, but he often made it hard. At best, they found his demeanor off-putting. But the consensus was that they hadn't much choice—they were lucky to even have a church, and there wasn't exactly a line of preachers eager to take on the sin capital of the west.

Julia would not have naturally gravitated toward such a man, but she had little choice in the matter. Theirs was a marriage arranged by domineering fathers who had taken control of their children's lives. Frederick had completed his education and was ready to begin his career as a preacher, and his father thought he needed a wife. Not only would she make him more relatable to the families he would be serving, but ministering was more than a full-time job and someone should take care of the home. Julia's family belonged to the elder Reverend Wright's church, and her younger sister was engaged to the organist's son. But when Julia had no suitors by the ripe age of 18, the two fathers began to talk. Julia was exactly the kind of wife a pastor needed, they had decided—happy, innocent, obedient, and eager to please. After 6 months of marriage, she remained all of these things except happy.

Kitty Russell and Julia Wright had struck up an unlikely friendship, seeming to have almost nothing in common except their welcoming smiles and helpful natures. They had first crossed paths at the General Store shortly after the Wrights moved to Dodge. Julia knew it wasn't polite to stare but couldn't help admiring this woman's appearance—fiery red hair in a perfect bun, makeup accenting a beautiful face, and the kind of stylish dress she had only seen illustrated in magazines. Kitty remembered what it was like to be new in town and cheerfully introduced herself, offering to share the benefit of her experience as a now seasoned citizen. Julia was grateful that someone actually wanted to talk to her and excitedly accepted Kitty's invitation to continue their conversation over coffee across the street. Her husband had several errands to run and she had plenty of time.

Kitty began filling her in on the best places to shop and eat in Dodge, as well as some social events she and her husband might enjoy. The Ford County Sociable was coming up and Kitty reminisced about how much fun that had been last year—food and drinks, music and dancing. Julia smiled appreciatively at the information but replied wistfully, "I'm afraid my husband wouldn't approve. Frederick says alcohol is the devil's poison, and dancing leads to lustful thoughts."

"Oh..." Kitty said awkwardly, not sure how to continue.

"He's not a bad man, Miss Russell," she offered, sounding as though she might be trying to convince herself. Kitty thought it was an odd statement for a woman to make about her husband. "He's just very…rigid. He loves the Lord and sees it as his calling to make sure everyone else loves him too. The thing is, Frederick doesn't always see love the way other folks do. And he thinks his way is the only way."

"Please, call me Kitty," she said with a smile, trying not to show the unflattering impression she was getting of The Reverend Wright.

"And you can call me Julia," she said, smiling back.

"Please tell me if this is too personal, but does it bother you that he's…well, as you said, so rigid?" Kitty asked sincerely.

"It's a lot on a man's shoulders when he feels responsible for other people's salvation," she said. "I don't always understand why he thinks the way he does, but he says it's not my place to understand. Ephesians 5:22: 'Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord.' Frederick likes that verse a lot."

Kitty was well acquainted with that verse, and she wasn't quite so keen on it.

"What is your husband doing while I'm enjoying your company?" she said lightly, hoping to change the subject.

"He's ordering some new suits for work," she replied. Frederick thought that he, unlike his wife, should be dressed well enough for people to notice. "And then he's going to talk to the Marshal."

"Oh, he is?" Kitty asked. "Well, I'm sure Marshal Dillon will make him feel very welcome here."

"You know him?" Julia asked.

"Yes, he's a good friend of mine," she replied casually.

"Frederick says it's his calling to bring some morality to this city," she said. "He wants the Marshal's help in getting rid of the sinful laws, drinking and gambling and such, just like his father tried to do in Lawrence. Frederick says he's not going to fail God like his father did."

Kitty was suddenly painfully aware that Frederick Wright would be less than thrilled with the company his wife was keeping.

"Julia, I have to tell you something," she said. "It hasn't come up yet, but I think you need to know what I do for a living. I am the co-owner of The Long Branch Saloon down the street."

"I see," Julia said quietly.

"I like you a lot, and I would be delighted if we could be friends. But I don't want to cause problems for you. I understand if your husband wouldn't…well, as I said, I don't want to cause problems," she tried to explain without embarrassing either of them.

Julia looked down in uncomfortable silence before finally responding. "Kitty, this is the best day I've had in a long time," she said. "And I think you're about the nicest person I've ever met. I can't imagine that God could find much wrong with us being friends."

"But your husband—"

"There's nothing that says I have to tell him everything," she quickly interjected. "You're the only friend I've made here. It would mean a lot to me if we could see each other again."

"Sure we can," Kitty smiled, feeling both genuine fondness and pity for this sweet girl. Kitty couldn't imagine how any woman could have married a man like Frederick. But if there was one lesson life had taught Kitty Russell, it was not to judge other people's decisions.

After that day, Julia Wright found a reason to make the short walk into town as often as possible, sharing her hopes and dreams, her fears and problems, with the nice lady she had met at the General Store—who just happened to run a saloon.