Mary Connealy (60 page)

Daniel reached for John and pulled him onto his lap. “I was mighty worried about you for a fact, son. I’m so glad you’re all right.” He wrapped his arms around John, and although it was completely against their family’s view of proper behavior, John hugged him back.

“I’m sorry you was worried, Pa.”

“I love you, son. I was so afraid the avalanche had got you.” Daniel held his son and marveled at the mass of wiggling, lively, unhurt boy he had in his arms.

And Grace had kept him safe. She’d been there for John in that dark one-room cave. He’d have come out of there terrified if he’d been trapped in there alone. She’d protected his boy. Thinking about it shook him deep and hard. He had a wife now, a wife he didn’t want and wished he could get rid of. And God had used her to protect one of Daniel’s precious sons.

John, alive and chipper and snug in his arms. Grace, full of sass and vinegar from cheating death and so pretty it hurt to look at her. For just a second his eyes stung, and he caught his breath at the force of his love for his children and what a miracle they were.

Then he remembered who he was and, worse yet, where he was. He’d die before he let the boys see him crying. He broke the spell that had spun itself around him as he relished John’s hug.

He pushed John away to arm’s length and grinned at him. “Let’s get the rest of this snow out of the way so we can get into our house.”

He jumped up. With a laugh, he dumped John, none too carefully, in the snow. He turned to the cave and began digging with the shovel he’d brought from the barn.

Grace stood behind him, and he forgot she existed for the most part. But she was a woman, so of course she didn’t let him forget for long. “We’re not living in this cave. You are building us a proper house, Daniel Reeves, and you’re doing it starting today.”

Daniel quit digging and turned around.

Abe took the shovel away from him and kept working while the other boys pushed at snow with their hands.

He looked into Grace’s sparkling eyes. “Did I just hear you right? Did you just
order
me to build a house?”

Grace plunked her fists on her slender hips, wrapped in those silly-looking pants of Abe’s. “Of course I didn’t. Because you are a smart man, and you have already seen that we cannot continue to live in that cave.”

Daniel wanted to argue with her. It seemed almost required, considering they’d done nothing but argue since the day they’d first clapped eyes on each other. Then Daniel looked over his shoulder at the steep, snow-covered hill above the door.

He turned back to her. “We haven’t been here that long. I didn’t know snow could bury the place like this. I…I’m so sorry, Grace.” He took a step nearer to her, conscious of his snoopy sons and their sharp ears. He caught her upper arms, and she lifted her fists away from her hips in surprise. “Thank you for taking care of John in there. I’m sure it must have been dark and frightening…and…I just…I never thought…I dragged those windfalls right above the house. You could have been…John could have been…” Daniel thought he might disgrace himself.

She smiled and arched her delicate brows. “We made it out, Daniel. We’re all right. Don’t think up things to worry about that didn’t happen.”

Daniel nodded and returned her smile with a sheepish one of his own. “Heaven knows there’s enough that
does
happen out here, we don’t have to make stuff up.”

“I’ll bet that’s right.” Grace shook her head. “Now how about that house?”

Snow flew past him from the fast-moving shovel, burying his feet.

“I don’t see any reason we should wait another day to start building.”

The boys, listening just as he suspected, began whooping and hollering loudly enough to raise the dead. The snow flew all the faster, as if they could begin building as soon as the door was clear.

He turned to them. “I didn’t know you boys wanted a house.”

Mark yelled, “Neither did we, Pa!”

“But it’s a great idea.” Ike jerked the shovel out of Abe’s hands and started digging.

Abe yelled and dived at Ike, and the two of them rolled into Mark and John.

“Should the boys be playing right underneath where an avalanche just came down?”

“Reckon not.” Daniel shook his head at the horseplay and left his boys to their wrestling. “We’ve got a nice thick stand of trees to use for lumber. In fact, we brought so many windfalls down that hill with the avalanche that we’ve got a good start on the logs.”

“And since we’ve just had the snowslide and a nasty storm,” Grace pointed out, “you’ll have a real good idea of where to build out of the wind and drifts and away from the danger of a future avalanche.”

Daniel was struck for the first time that he’d married a schoolteacher. She was a right smart woman.

He glanced over his shoulder at the mountain looming overhead of his front door. The hillside looked swept clean of most of the snow, but he’d never again allow his children to sleep in there.

“I don’t like the look of that hill even now. We’re not spending another night in that cave.”

Luke jumped out of the cloud of snow he and his brothers were stirring up. “Are we gonna sleep outside, Pa?”

Daniel noticed the sharp-thinking furrow between his son’s white eyebrows that Grace had pointed out.

“Nope, tonight we sleep in the barn with the horses. It’ll be cold, because we can’t build a fire in there, but the night isn’t bitter and we’ll cuddle up.” He turned away from the treacherous hill above his home and looked back at Grace. He froze as surely as if he’d been turned to ice by the now-faded blizzard.

She smiled, her expression playful and warm.

And he thawed under the golden fire in her eyes.

He thought of the weight of her on his body, and he remembered earlier in the week when he’d fallen down on top of her. He had a wife. One who needed him to cuddle up to her in the night. How else could he keep her warm? He smiled back.

Then he remembered the price he’d paid for giving in to a man’s weakness. He’d killed his first wife. He’d die himself before he’d kill another one. The smile faded from his face.

She looked confused and hurt when he backed up a step.

He tore his eyes away from her, the effort as painful as tearing his own flesh. He turned toward the cave. “That’s enough, boys. Since we’re not moving back in, all we gotta do is get our things out. Let’s start by moving the table and benches to the barn. Everybody grab something.”

He charged into that hole in the ground feeling as if he were running away from the devil himself. As he grabbed the table, he realized that he was doing exactly that. Temptation. Straight from the devil himself. He’d given in before.

Margaret had been too warm and giving to be resisted. But only a fool reaches into a fire after he has been burned. Daniel Reeves had been burned badly, and he was no fool. He began dragging the table. Ike and Abe got the other end and lifted. The three younger boys were wrestling over the benches, arguing and laughing.

Daniel walked backward, glancing just once at Grace’s uncertain expression.

As he passed her, she said, “Daniel, did I do something wrong?”

“There’re things in there you can tote, Grace,” he said as he passed her, looking anywhere but at her. “Make yourself useful.”

Abe and Ike looked at him and frowned.

Grace lost all her sass. “Of course, Daniel. I’ll be glad to help.” She gave him one last unhappy look and turned to the cave.

They moved the rest of their meager belongings in a matter of minutes.

Daniel made supper that night. He went in the cave and cooked it, then brought their steaks and eggs and potatoes and biscuits and milk to the barn for them to eat. Everything was cold.

Especially Daniel’s heart.

S
he didn’t know what she’d said or done to make him mad, but Grace’s stomach twisted when she looked at Daniel’s angry eyes. She let it bother her for about an hour, about the length of time it took for them to sit down in the waning light to eat their cold supper of steak, eggs, potatoes, biscuits, and milk. The meal was a vast improvement over the wretched meal she’d cooked at noon. Then she remembered what she’d learned today.

“Great is thy faithfulness.”
God had been faithful to her. She could only be faithful in return. For Grace, being faithful meant being brave, having the courage to trust God with her life.

Her bravery didn’t extend to grabbing Daniel by the ear and twisting until he told her what was the matter. But it did mean taking charge of the boys. “All right, this corner of the barn is farthest from the wind. Let’s pitch some straw onto the floor. No reason the animals should have it better than we do.”

The boys, subdued by their father’s sudden bad temper and their own hard work, obeyed instantly. Daniel helped, too. They built a comfortable little bed for themselves and worked up a nice glowing warmth in their muscles.

Grace lay down, not willing to put on her nightgown and wear it in front of the boys. She had no way to wash anything out, either. She wondered how long she had to live in the same clothes night and day. Pulling John into her arms on one side and with Ike up against her on the other, she tried to relax.

She didn’t look at Daniel, who had slept at her side until now. She had no desire to cuddle up to the cranky old bear. As they all cuddled together, they barely noticed the cold weather. The sun having long since set, they were all heavy lidded from the long day’s tension and labor.

Lying awake, Grace heard the breathing of her sons all around her and the heavier breathing of her husband, about two children away. She gave a mental shrug. She didn’t know what to make of the heat in his eyes, and she didn’t know how to speak of it. The ways between men and women were a mystery to her.

The only man she’d really known was Parrish, and Daniel was certainly a step up from him. She’d done poorly being on her own as a teacher. She thought of going to bed cold and hungry every night. At least she’d been earning money for Hannah.

How would Hannah manage without her? She’d received one letter since Grace had sent the first money. Hannah had insisted she stop giving away every dime she made. She said they had found a safe place to stay and that generous people gave them food. All the children were in school and doing well. Grace hoped that meant Hannah could manage without eighteen extra dollars a month. Since she could do nothing about it, Grace committed Hannah and the little girls to God and forced herself to quit fretting.

All in all, moody husband or not, she decided she’d made an improvement in her lot in life.

She prayed before she went to bed, but her prayers were different than they’d been since she’d run away from Parrish. She returned to the prayers of her childhood.

Give me courage, Lord. Help me be brave. Give me wisdom. Give me strength
. She thought that about covered what she needed to survive. She added,
Help me love these boys as my own children
.

As she said it, she smiled into the night. Sleep pulled her into the cold darkness. She didn’t need to ask for that again. God had already given her an abundance of love for the little monsters.
Thank You, God
.

They awoke the next morning to the sound of dripping. Grace burrowed her way out of the straw in the murky morning light and realized that it was almost too warm buried in blankets and children.

She gave John’s shoulder a playful shove. “Get up, sleepyhead. We’ve got a lot to do today.”

John mumbled and rolled away from her. Then he sneezed and shoved a stick of straw out of his nose and sat up with a big grin on his face. “Mornin’, Ma. Why’s it a big day?”

“It’s a big day because, starting today, your pa’s going to build us a house.” She announced it loudly, and by the time she was done, all her boys—all six of them, considering Daniel was acting like a child—were sitting up rubbing their eyes, and most of them—five to be exact—were grinning.

Scowling, Daniel shoved the straw away from his legs. The boys began climbing out of their makeshift bed, scattering straw far and wide, yelling and pushing at each other for no reason Grace could imagine.

Mark tripped over her stomach and raced, shrieking, out of the barn.

Grace looked at Daniel, who calmly stood up out of the cattle forage. “Why did he yell like that? He sounded like a wolf was chasing him out of the barn.”

Daniel shrugged.

“He’s getting first turn at the outhouse,” Ike grumbled. Stumbling over feet that had started growing ahead of his body, he ran out of the barn, too, hollering loudly. The rest of the boys were on his heels.

Grace shook her head and stood up. She whacked at the straw clinging to her then looked Daniel in the eye. He didn’t seem to have eaten vinegar for breakfast; his face wasn’t all twisted up and sour. Cautious, so as not to set off his temper again, she asked, “How do you build a house, Daniel?”

Daniel cocked his head to the side with a little one-shouldered shrug. “Hard work, long hours, lots of slivers in your fingers.”

Grace narrowed her eyes at him. “That could describe half the jobs on the earth.”

“Why don’t you let me show you? Talkin’s a waste of time.” Daniel walked to the wide-open barn door and shouted until her ears rang, “First chores, boys, then breakfast. Then we cut down a passel of trees; then we build a house.”

His announcement was met with more yelling.

Grace thought it sounded as though the boys were unhappy, but maybe the high-pitched racket was joy. She couldn’t tell much difference in the sounds they made. Maybe she’d pick it up in time.

He looked back over his shoulder. “I’m gonna get the fire going in the cave and throw in the taters. Then I’ll milk the cow. I don’t want you going in there. I’m afraid of all that snow clinging to the hill overhead. You and the boys stay well away.”

“I should be the one to go in,” Grace said, striding toward him. “If another avalanche comes down, you need to be outside digging.”

Daniel shook his head. “I’ll go in prepared to dig from the inside. I’ll be in and out quick. What I don’t want is any of you stopping near the door. I can come out quick and get myself clear of the base of that hill, so I’ll be safe. But no one is to hang around near the entrance in the meantime.”