Within the Candle's Glow (2 page)

“Yes, sir, ‘though it ain’t likely you’d be blamed.” With an exaggerated sigh, she grasped the material of her faded blue skirt and ascended the hewn steps to the loading platform. “I sure don’t see much of you or Samuel.”

“Sam mentioned that yesterday. I heard him bemoan the fact school’s out for a few months.” He hefted one more sack and returned to the wagon.

Ella laughed. “I don’t believe
everyone
agrees with him.” She slipped into the shadows and leaned against the log wall. “Most are thrilled to be free of schoolin’, and I think your brother-in-law appreciates a break from teachin’.” She folded her arms across her waist—content to watch him load the farm wagon.

“Konrad said as much.” He pushed at the last item he stacked. “I
hope this load doesn’t slide when I reach Palmer’s Ridge. I forgot my heavier rope. Falling rocks damaged part of the trail Sam and I cleared. The rough spots make this old wagon sway.”

“Want to borrow some rope?” A loose strand of hair fell alongside her right cheek. She tucked it behind her ear and eyed the firm muscles in Jim’s upper arms. His shirtsleeves failed to conceal their strength. “Mr. Beckler has plenty.” She would’ve been content to watch him all day—even in the dazzling sun.

“Naw. I guess the heavy barrels will act as a brace.” He fiddled with the sacks and rearranged them.

He’s perfect, not like me. I’m scarred for life.

Her right hand touched her neck. Last night’s nightmare still had the ability to cause her legs to shake. The high collar of her blouse left an inch of bumps exposed. Ella wished she hadn’t pinned her hair back in a tight coil. With her hair down, the scars would be hidden.

“You seem a trifle sad today. Got worries?”

“No.” She shook her head and laced her fingers together under her apron. “I was thinkin’ of my mama earlier today. It’s been awhile since I hiked the mountain to tend her grave.” A sensation of loneliness encircled her chest. She pressed her lips together to stop them from quivering. She didn’t want to seem childish.

“Samuel usually takes you up there—back to the old homestead.”

“Yes, he does. Although, ‘cause I live with Velma Clanders, findin’ time to slip away from all her little ones is a problem. They want to go with me.” She shrugged. “I prefer to be alone or with Samuel.”

“I understand.”

She watched him grasp a smaller cotton poke of cornmeal and carry it to the wagon. She wished she had the courage to ask
him
to accompany her to Mama’s grave. Her imagination created a picture of them hiking under a canopy of trees.
Maybe, he’d take her hand.

“Ella Dessa?”

She blinked, saw his perplexed frown, and realized she hadn’t been listening to him.

“Your thoughts drifted away like a windswept vulture.” He chuckled.

“I’m sorry.” Her cheeks grew warm. “What were you sayin’ besides a thing ‘bout vultures?”

“I said Sam might further his studies next year.” He patted the final purchase and wedged it with two sacks of grain. “He’ll have to leave these hills.” A tinge of sadness crept into his deep voice.

“He’ll return.” She had mixed feelings about Samuel’s plans. His friendship meant a lot to her.

“Yeah, but he might outgrow this hilly land. The world out there is spreading, leaving this curved valley behind. We’re secluded and hidden. It’s a holler—a cove, without room to welcome more people. The gold mines bring in trades and additional people south of here, but we’re isolated.” The restless shuffling of the horses caused the wagon to rock. He braced his feet against the movement. “My oldest brother left us.”

She shook her head. “Samuel isn’t like Duncan.”

“I wouldn’t come back.” Jim stared at the low mountain slope behind them, his stance rigid. His long fingers curved into fists at his sides. “But my parents’ homestead will become my sole responsibility, even though Papa’s land purchase from the Indians wasn’t part of
my plans
.”

“What do you wish for?”

He drew in a deep breath.

“Nothing, I reckon. I’ll always be needed here.”

“Because of your papa’s health?”

“Yes.” Jim faced her and tugged on the brim of his hat. It shadowed his eyes. “I sure appreciate this new platform. I don’t have to go down the steps and lift things to the wagon. Where’d Walter get the idea?”

“His sister saw it in Richmond on one of her trips east.” She watched him unroll his shirtsleeves and cover his tan forearms. She inhaled to counteract the strange ache in her throat. “Agatha thought her brother handy enough to build it. She drew sketches to guide him.”

“It’s perfect.”

“Most folks say how they like it.” To her left, the narrow platform ran the length of the store’s rear wall. “How’s your papa’s knee?”

“Bad. He’s weaker. Can hardly hobble.” Jim’s chest moved with a dispirited sigh. “He tries to help. It isn’t good with the pain he’s suffered. Like most old farmers, he’s stubborn.” He used the back of his hand to wipe his forehead.

“Jim, ‘sides your family—it’s all he has.”

“I know. It tortures me inside.” He laid his hand on the sweaty shirt covering his chest. “I sense he thinks I’m taking over, stealing the remainder of his life. It kills me to see him sit on the porch and stare at the woods. I know he’s itching to go hunting or do a little panning for gold.”

“
You’re
not takin’ his life.”

“I feel like I am.” Jim tugged on the reins and looped them over the wagon’s rough box, which doubled as a seat. The two horses ignored him. They stood with heads drooping, tails swishing at persistent flies.

“I’m sorry.” She got the wildest desire to step over the end of the wagon and wrap her arms around him. Instead, she hugged her own waist. “I bet he’s proud of you and Samuel.”

Somewhere in the distance, a quail called for its mate. The sound was melancholy.

“Proud?” He faced the direction of the bobwhite quail’s persistent call. “Don’t know. I hate telling Papa he can’t help. I camped in the farm wagon last night, near our back fence and creek. Snuck off without him.”

A hint of sadness softened his voice.

“Why camp there?”

“I repaired a fence without him trailing after me. It was a beautiful night. The moon’s almost full. Would’ve been nice to share it with someone.”

“I saw it from our porch.”
I would’ve loved bein’ there with you.

“Papa insists on raising stupid sheep, even with the wild animal attacks we struggle against nightly. Our ornery donkey brayed half the evening. Bears love sheep, you know.”

“Lamb on the table ain’t—isn’t bad. Samuel says it’s your favorite.”

He chuckled. “It is. In some ways, the sheep are worth it. I shouldn’t complain. Mother has her wool. The women in the cove buy it or exchange produce with us.”

“We all enjoy the mutton and need the wool.”

“It’s the battle against predators that makes me wish we didn’t raise sheep. I hate slinking around at night with a gun or setting traps. Got a large bear hide draped over the rail fence right now—not that it’ll keep other varmints away. Papa thinks it does.”

“Velma’s oldest boy, Scott, shot a bobcat stealin’ a chicken last night.”

“It happens.” He stepped out of the wagon and rubbed his hands down the thighs of his pants. “Look at my hands. Everything is either dirty or dusty.”

She gazed at his capable hands and imagined hers clasped in them. “
Ahh
, yes, we do need rain.”

“It has to be a soaking rain—a gully washer. We could use one that washes through the ravines and fills the streams. I know the new mill is struggling. I had to come here to buy meal and flour from Walter. No getting anything ground right now. Lyle Foster’s done all the diverting
of water he can at the mill. He’s got a crazy flume built, but holding tank’s dry.”

“He and Rebecca are upset. She came here two days ago—in tears.”

“Can’t blame them. I told Lyle to hold to God’s promises. Rain’ll come. Crops will flourish. By fall he’ll have more customers than he can handle.”

Ella surveyed the hazy sky above their heads.

“Jim, our store supplies are low. Mr. Beckler says it means a trip south to Licklog—I mean Dahlonega—if this drought goes on. A friend of his, named Riley, has a large mercantile where he can make purchases.”

“Hope people can hold out.” He walked toward her—his boots loud on the wide-spaced boards of the platform. He stopped within a few feet of her. “I’m keeping you from work. I must start home.”

“I’m done for the day.”

“You are?”

She nodded and held her breath.

Please, ask if you may see me home.

“
Hmm
, then I could give—”

The rear door flew open, banging the wall. The wooden sign rattled and bounced.

“Jim, I’m so glad I caught a glimpse of you through the window.”

“Sophie?” His attention switched to the captivating image.

“Jim, I
need
your assistance.” Sophie Wald swept her expensive green skirt out of the way of the closing door and hurried toward him. Her dainty hands fluttered in the air, much like pale butterflies. “I must admit I bought more than my mother penned on the list. I can’t possibly carry it home in my arms. Could you give me a ride?” She batted her dark lashes and gave him a pouty-lipped smile. “
Please?
”

“Ah, yes, of course.” He removed his hat and combed his fingers through his sweaty hair.

Ella twisted her hands together behind her back, while she struggled to hide her resentment.

“Wonderful. I’ll tell Mr. Beckler to bring my purchases to your wagon.” Her voice trailed off with a feigned look of surprise. “Ella Dessa—so
nice
to see you.” She patted the dark curls flowing over her right shoulder. “I hope you’ve been told of the picnic? I suppose Samuel will ask you to go with him. In fact, I do believe I heard him talking to my brother about it.”

“I know ‘bout the picnic.” Ella swallowed her pride and faced the attractive girl, who had no scars or blemishes. The claws of a mountain lion hadn’t damaged
her
skin when she was little.

“It’ll be so much fun.” Sophie rested her fingertips on Jim’s right arm and smiled up at him. Her shiny curls bounced as she tipped her head, revealing a smooth white throat. “I’ll be right back.
Please
, don’t leave without me.”

“I guess she needs help.” Jim watched as she stepped inside the store and left the scent of lavender drifting in the breeze. He faced Ella. “I … it’s been nice talking with you.”

She nodded. “I enjoyed it.” It was difficult to control her jealousy.

Without waiting for Jim to respond, she went inside and headed for the storage room. She intended to stay out of sight until he left with Sophie. The last thing she wanted to see was the girl’s triumphant smile.

“Miss Huskey?”

She stifled a groan and faced the elderly store owner. “Yes?”

Sophie stood by the front counter. Her dark eyes studied Ella’s face and neck.

Ella reacted by covering the left side of her neck with her right hand, even though she knew her collar hid most of the unbecoming scars.

“I must have a moment of your time—before you go.” Walter Beckler didn’t look up as he finished wrapping one of Sophie’s purchases in a swath of unbleached muslin. “Can you wait? It’s important I speak with you.” His voice contained a tight, unusual tone. His flat-tipped fingers fumbled with the piece of coarse twine he tied around the package.

“I can wait.” A heavy sense of dread stiffened her shoulders. “I’ll dust shelves in the storage room.” She saw Sophie’s shapely eyebrows lift, and a spark of curiosity appeared in her eyes.

“
M
r. Beckler?”

His hand and the quill jerked across the open ledger. “Oh, Miss Huskey, I forgot you were here.”

“I unpacked the last barrel you brought from Dahlonega.” Ella closed the storage room door and approached him.

Perhaps, he no longer needs me to work for him.

“I lost time tallying the total sales after Miss Wald left.” His flat-tipped fingers smeared ink spots on the tall countertop. With one hand, he adjusted his wire spectacles.