Within the Candle's Glow (29 page)

Peggy’s passionate brown eyes locked with hers. “I
hate
mountain lions and wildcats!” Her tone was brittle.

Josie fell on her knees and buried her face in Ella’s lap. Her curls blanketed her back, while her arms hugged Ella’s waist. “Forgive me.”

“There’s nothin’ to forgive, Josie. I should’ve offered to show you girls years ago. I didn’t want to horrify you. Am I hard to peer at?” She tugged at Josie’s arms and unlocked them from her waist. “Tell me or I shall never have hope that a husband can abide my scars.”

“Ella Dessa, the scars are long, but not as bad as I thought,” the girl mumbled. “I’m ashamed.” She rubbed her blotchy face and sniffled. “I don’t usually do bad things.”

“No, she doesn’t.” Peggy lifted her skirt hem and dried her own face. “She’s the good one.”

“I suppose you’re the
bad one
, right?”

“How’d you know?” Peggy ruefully slapped Ella’s knee. “You know me
too well
.”

“Hmm, it’s those reddish-brown curls that give you away.” Ella smiled.

The door opened, and Jim stomped in. “Why is Mother out on the porch switching Anna? Mother never does that type of …
punishment
.”

Ella saw his eyes lock on her ravaged shoulder, neck, and the expanse of exposed skin above her breast and chemise. Her fingers struggled with the tiny buttons and the revealing gap in her blouse.

His shocked expression showed how he felt. He grabbed a heavy coat off a wall peg and left before she managed to fasten the last button.

Her chest refused to move with the breath she fought to draw in. “Oh! Well … I guess he got the shock of
his
life.” Pressing a hand against her lips, she tried not to cry.

Peggy patted her knee. “I’m sorry.”

“This day’s been …
full
of surprises.” Ella tried to laugh. She stood and clasped the pinecone tight in her right hand. “Jim showed me the fine-lookin’ gravestone he made for my mama. Phillip gave me a special gift.” She patted the neckline of her blouse. “Poor Anna got a switchin’ ‘cause of me. An’ Jim got an eyeful.” A sob escaped her lips. “I think I must go home.”

Peggy and Josie jumped up. “No, don’t go,” they both pleaded. “Don’t cry!”

“I feel so awful Anna got switched. She’ll hate me forever.” With a sudden flash of anger, she swiped at her tear-dampened face and faced the door. “I’m
goin’
home.”

The door opened. Inez led a red-faced Anna into the kitchen. A bitter thrust of wind whirled in around them. “There she is. Do as I said.”

The girl’s pale lips tightened into a straight line, and her jaw jutted forward. “I must apolo—gize for my hurtful words.”

Ella held back unforgiving things she longed to yell. Instead, she reached for the girl’s cool hand. “I think … I understand. Yes, the painter—
mountain lion
were most likely hungry. I seemed like food. Do you think my death would’ve been the right thing to happen?”

Peggy murmured a cry of protest, and Anna’s head bowed.

“No,” the light-haired girl whispered. “I was wrong to speak that way.”

“I know God wanted me to live. That’s why the cat failed. There must be a reason in all of it.” With the back of her hand, Ella dried her face.

“Forgive me.”

“I do.”

With a soft sob, Anna fled for the door.

Ella faced Inez. She felt sick to her stomach, and the weight of adult reasoning settled in her mind. “Inez, I know why you whupped her. I wish I might take it back. Now, I feel to blame for Anna’s anguish. Would it be possible for me to beg forgiveness for not stayin’ for the meal? I must go home.”

“Ahh, honey, this shouldn’t have happened.” Inez wrapped her arms around Ella and pulled her close. “I understand. What you need to realize—is Anna hurts many people with her heartless words. I’ve gone easy on her, since Ephraim died, hoping she’d see the error of her ways. Today was the last straw. It is not your fault or of your doing that she was licked. A switch don’t break the skin or break the spirit of a child, but it breaks the determination to heap wrong on others. Anna must learn people have feelings—just as animals do.”

Ella nodded and reached for her cloak. “I’ll go find Jim. May we visit another time?”

“Yes, yes,” Inez murmured. She touched Ella’s cheek. “Soon.”

Peggy and Josie ran to receive a hug before Ella slipped outside. She went down the wet steps and spied Jim stacking wood near the barn. Reluctantly, she angled his direction. The cold air cut her lungs with every breath.

“Jim?”

He turned. “You’ll freeze out here in the wind.” A troubled expression clouded his cold gray eyes. His gaze flitted away. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I walked in on you. I had no idea—”

Heat rushed to her face. The wind bit into her body. “My fault. I should’ve thought before I—” She shivered and dropped her head.

“I didn’t know it was … so …” He clenched cold-reddened fists at his side. “I’m sick about what you’ve suffered.”

She moved closer to the barn and leaned against it to stop the trembling in her legs. “I hate to be reminded.”
Why did he have to walk in at that moment?

“I understand.”

“Jim? Will you take me home?” She pulled at her cloak and wished for a shawl to wrap around her head.

He nodded and avoided her eyes. “Let me bring up one of the horses. Do you mind riding double?”

“No.” Her thoughts went back to Duncan taking her home. Was she destined to ride up and down with one brother or another for the rest of her life?
No—things have changed. Jim won’t ever want to be near me.
He’s sickened by what he saw.

She waited against the protection of the barn wall and beheld her breath rise in a misty cloud. Jim returned with his black horse and a coat. Without an exchange of words, he mounted and crammed the hat on his head. She stepped up on a wooden crate. Jim reached to help her up behind him. She tugged her skirt over her legs and clasped her arms about his waist.

“Hold tight,” he muttered and nudged the horse’s sides. The black animal trotted forward. “You warm?”

She didn’t bother to answer him. Hot tears stung her icy cheeks. She considered leaning her face against his back and pretending he could someday love her. Reality told her the possibility died. She had observed the disgust on his face.

“It’s sleeting.” Jim yelled the terse words over his shoulder as the wind hit them. “I’m sorry …” The sound of his voice joined the swooshing of wind in the bare trees. The horse jerked and fought the bit. Reluctance showed in its nervous, brown eyes.

The wind blew Ella’s braid sideways, and the end slapped like a miniature whip. Fine, needle-like ice pricked her cheeks, neck, and ears. With a gasp, she buried her face into Jim’s coat and longed for a fire’s warmth.

“I’m taking the path through the woods,” Jim hollered. “There’ll be more protection from the wind and sleet.”

She sensed the horse angled to the right, following the direction Duncan had taken. With her arms clenched to Jim’s coated waist, she huddled and tried to make her mind go blank. She was aware of the horse stepping down into the frigid stream, splashing, and lunging up the opposite site.

Bare tree limbs snapped and cracked above them, lending more speed to the horse’s gait. Ella knew if she lifted her head, the fierce wind would whip her breath away.

She sensed Jim’s muscles tighten as he fought to control the antsy horse. She felt him tug his hat brim lower, protecting his face from the wind and icy particles blown sideways.

“We’re almost there,” he finally yelled. “Sleet’s changing to snow.”

When they reached the cove, he twisted sideways to grip her upper arm. She slid downward and clung to his hand until she got her feet under her.

Once under the building’s roof, she turned. The wind gathered the
fine snow in twirling funnels and blew it onto the dogtrot. She stared at Jim hunched over the neck of his horse.

“Won’t you come in by the fire?”

He held onto his hat. “No, I’m riding by the school … sure Samuel has left for home. I’ll trail him back—” The wind erased his next words.

“What?”

“Need to be sure my brother makes it … safe!” Jim lifted a hand, waved, and bent over the neck of the horse. His silhouette faded into the swirling mess.

“Oh, God,” she prayed. “Please, keep him and Samuel safe.”

F
riday December 25, 1840

Miles placed an arm around Ella and hugged her.

“This is the happiest Christmas of my life. I only wish I could’ve been there for you in years past. From things you’ve said—and from what I have gathered from people like Granny Hanks and Leigh—I know your childhood wasn’t good. I know your mother suffered. Please,” he whispered, “realize if I could’ve changed it … I would’ve.”

Unshed tears made his dark eyes glisten.

“I know you would’ve. Don’t blame yourself.”

“Are you happy now?”

“Oh, yes.” She enjoyed the cozy moment.

“It’s getting cold out!” Grace bustled in from the dogtrot attaching the main house to her kitchen. She carried a platter of crusty brown biscuits. “Ella Dessa, can you place this on the table? Leona’s telling Konrad it’s time to eat. He’s been patting Quinn’s back so he’ll nap until we’re done eating. I need to go back for the butter and meat.” She pointed over her shoulder.

Ella accepted the plate. “I’m so hungry, I’d be satisfied with a biscuit.”

“You leave them alone.” Grace shook her finger as she left the room.

Miles chuckled.

Ella went to the long table and set the plate beside a bowl of corn. “She might slap my hand. A nice cousin she’ll be.” She playfully wrinkled her nose at Miles and smiled. “Tell me somethin’—” She hesitated. “What shall I call you?”

“What would make you comfortable?” He placed one elbow on the mantel shelf and waited.

“Oh.” She shrugged. “I’d like to call you ‘
Father
.’”

He nodded. “Then that’s what I’ll be. I hope I remember to answer to it. You might nudge me each time, until I’m used to the new title.”

She giggled and relished the silly way they sometimes conversed. It helped smooth over the awkwardness in their initial relationship. Miles had a mild disposition, but he was straightforward.

He sighed. “We’ve so much to talk over, but I feel I
know
you. You have your mother’s mannerisms. You’re free-hearted. So, at times, I recognize how you’re going to respond to things.” He pointed at her. “Your blue eyes shine like a calm lake, but they go stormy and darken to a deep aqua when something or
someone
bothers you—like that man, Josh Ragget.”

“You know me well.” She rolled her eyes. “He comes and goes from the cove like a fretful dream.”

A troubled frown creased her father’s forehead. “I can’t put my finger on it, but he’s one man who makes me hope he’ll do the wrong thing. I’d willingly
punch
him.”

“Hankerin’ for a fight?
You
? I think of you as not troubled by anythin’.”

His expression grew somber. “Be cautious around Josh. Promise me?” He touched her shoulder. His fingers tightened. “Let me know if he makes you uncomfortable.”

“I will.” She tugged his hand away from her shoulder and clasped it in both of hers. “Now don’t go gettin’ all worried ‘cause I agree with you ‘bout him. I’ll be more than careful.”

“Careful about what?” Leona asked. She carried Emma in her arms and stopped to kiss her husband’s cheek.

“Everythin’.” Ella reached for the little girl. “This baby’s bigger every time I see her.” She ran her fingers over the dark locks bouncing on Emma’s head. “Look at these curls. I wish my hair coiled up like hers.”

“Sorry, you didn’t get my curls,” Miles muttered. “In fact—what did you inherit from me?” He had a woebegone look.

“Ahh, I got your sense of humor.” She leaned toward him. “An’—without
you, I wouldn’t exist. So … happy now?”

“Yes, I am.” He pulled her into the curve of his left arm and Leona into his right. “I’m a blessed man.” After kissing each of their cheeks, he released them and turned to Grace. “Time to eat?”