Within the Candle's Glow (31 page)

“I’m sorry you need him to love you, ‘cause Samuel would die for you.”

Ella wiped away tears. “I know.”

“You haven’t had the bad dream lately.”

“No, perhaps it’s ‘cause I’m acceptin’ my scars?”

Carrie patted her shoulder. “Go to sleep.”

“Sweet dreams, Carrie. I love you like a sister.”

Carrie’s feathery reply brushed her ear. “We’re sisters forever. I’m so glad you came to live with us when your mama died. I’d be lost without our talks.”

T
uesday February 9, 1841

Samuel wrestled with the stiff leather pack on Sada’s back. Sleet blew sideways and pricked like needles on his chapped face. Anxiety played with his mind, but he shrugged it off. With a final tug on the leather band cinched around the pack, he left the animal secured to the platform railing, stomped up the steps, and into the store.

Ella Dessa raised troubled blue eyes from Walter’s ledger. Her brow wrinkled with worry as she wrapped a woolen shawl about her shoulders. Across from the counter, a fire roared in the stone fireplace, but the building remained cold. Deer had curled up close to the hearth.

“I got it strapped.”

She closed the ledger. “You sure Sada can tote it all?”

“Yes.”

“She’s an old girl.”

“She’ll do fine.” He spoke the words with confidence, but he wasn’t happy about having to use Sada, instead of a horse.

“I’m worried.” Her blue eyes darkened.

“There’s only one steep section to pass through. Remember? It’s not snowing yet.”

“It’s icy. Bitter cold.”

“I know.” He removed his hat and rubbed his chapped face. “Jim had to have both horses. He’s dragging the last load of timber to the side field. We might need more wood, if things set in for more than a few days. He and I made the stupid mistake of chopping it to lengths up on the ridge, instead of first carting it down. Papa would’ve never let us slide by with that.” He shrugged his shoulders. “We got lazy.”

“Couldn’t you use Jim’s big black horse today?”

“He’s not used to packing a strapped load. He’d act up.”

“Your papa wouldn’t want you usin’ old Sada. Leave the load. Come back when it clears.”

“Stop houndin’ me about this,” he muttered.

“I’m just worried.” She rounded the end of the counter and playfully grabbed the ends of his woolen scarf. She tugged it around his neck and knotted it. The back of her hand brushed his jaw.

“Thanks.” He wished he could linger by the fire, hold her warm hand, and talk.

She patted the scarf. “Button your coat ‘round the scarf and stay warm. Want me to scoot small rocks from the fire for your pockets?”

“Might feel good.” He studied her pale face, instantly aware of how close they stood. He could see the varying shades of blue—deep in her eyes—flecks of a summer sky and a bottomless mountain lake. “Yes, I could use a few hot rocks for warmth.”

“I’ll get ‘em,” she said, but continued to gaze up at him. There was a faint question in her eyes, as if she wanted to ask something.

Samuel smiled. “What? Why are you staring at me?” His pulse raced. His thoughts shot backward to the past summer, the blueberry patch, and how he had dared to kiss her lips. They had yielded and softened under his. “Ella Dessa?”

His right hand reached for her shoulder. She sidestepped and went to the fireplace.

“I had rocks nudged under the coals … thinkin’ we’d all walk to school this mornin’. Konrad sent a rider announcin’ classes canceled.”

“I hoped he’d close the school, but I had to come
anyways
. I planned to ride old Sada to the school and
then
come here. No school makes my day shorter.”

He watched Ella Dessa tuck her full skirt between her knees to protect it from the fire. She bent and dug in the coals with a charred stick of oak. Her lengthy blond hair curled loose about her shoulders, but a light green ribbon held it away from her face. He had gotten used
to seeing her hair twisted into a coil. With her hair down, she seemed younger than seventeen. Her curved figure belied that perception.

Childhood had slipped away from them.

She scooted two smoking rocks out on the stone hearth and laid aside the charred stick. “Let ‘em cool a mite, or you’ll have holes in your pockets
and
burnt hands. You wouldn’t enjoy that.”

“Might make me walk faster. I’ve got to beat the storm blowing up.”

“I hope there ain’t—
aren’t
icy spots ‘long the trail.”

“Not likely. Wasn’t when I came down.” He turned to look out the front window. “Ahh—here comes Josh.”

“
Hmm
, I wish he’d leave town.” Quickly, she stepped behind the counter and straightened tin containers of taffy.

Samuel bent over to touch the rocks and jerked his hand away. “Still too warm.” He heard Josh come in and shut the door. The little bell announced his presence.

As Josh removed his damp hat and brushed melting sleet from his coat, his dark eyes met Samuel’s direct glare. He palmed his battered hat, shook the dampness off it, and stomped to the counter.

“Ella Des … sa. I need gloves.” He laid a filthy pair on the counter. His wide shoulders slumped inside his threadbare coat.

She lifted a wooden crate from under the counter and placed it within his reach. “Pick your size.” Her thick eyelashes hid downcast eyes.

The unpleasant scent of a damp horse blanket clung to the man, and Samuel imagined him rolled in one, sleeping in someone’s barn. He pretended to examine a metal root cutter by weighing it in his hands and testing the edge with the flat of his thumb, but he noted Ella Dessa’s right hand tap the counter.

“These’ll do.” Josh chose a soft leather pair. “My credit good?”

“Yes.” She pulled the crate off the counter and put it away.

Josh hesitated. He acted as if he wanted to say more, but not with Samuel present. “I’ll be goin’ then.”

“Good day, Josh.”

The tiny brass bell jingled on the door.

Samuel waited until the front door closed before he spoke. “You don’t like him.”

She shook her head. “But I know it’s not nice to say.” The color of her troubled eyes reminded him of a blue-gray gnatcatcher. But the somber look she gave him had nothing to do with the energetic summer bird.
“He makes me ill at ease. He pays Walter in gold, with tiny flecks and bits. I know others buy with gold, but with him, I’m bothered.”

“Like the perfect pebble he used to buy your basket?” He leaned against the counter.

“Yes.” She rolled her eyes, denoting her exasperation.

“Sure helped fund the new school. I bet we have the best books in these parts.” He regarded the varying expressions on her face and tried to memorize them—so he could see them in his dreams.

“One of the miners returnin’ from Auraria said thievery’s commonplace ‘long the more lonely stretches of trail. Lyle Foster returned yesterday from herdin’ the last of his hogs to Dahlonega and the slaughter pens. He came in here to talk to Walter. I overheard what he said.”

“And?”

“He says the trip is
worrisome.
It’s not the slaves he frets about. It’s the gold-hungry thieves and robbers.”

“Did you say slaves?”

“Yes, the rich men bring or send their own slaves to mine the gold. Lyle says more and more of them are runners—escapin’ to the North. They take chances on freedom, ‘stead of workin’ the mines. It’s easy to hide here in the woods.”

“Yeah, I think I heard that, but I’ve never spied one—a slave, that is. Now, Indians, I remember them stopping in to talk with Papa. Was years ago. We even traded produce at harvest time, when we first moved up here. Now they’re gone—taken away.”

“I don’t believe they got my mama’s friends.” She dropped her voice, so only he could hear, even though no one was around. “Blue Feather, his squaw, and family joined those hidin’ on the mountain. I pray they’re still up there.”

“There’s plenty of places to hide.”

“Yes.” A cheerless smile lifted the corners of her lips. “When I was ‘bout six, Blue Feather gave me a gift. He carved a doll from a tree branch. Paw found me playin’ with it. He broke it into two pieces, tossed it in the fire. Mama held me in her rocker while I cried. We watched it burn.” She touched her cheek with slender fingertips. “But I felt Mama’s tears on my face.”

Samuel reached across the counter and pressed her hand between his. “I’m sorry. I know how to carve. Tell me what it looked like.”

“Less than half a foot tall? One piece. Slender, with arms carved as
part of the body. He carved hair flowing down its back. A simple face, only eyes, and the shape of a nose. It was gone so quick after I got it—it’s hard to recall.” Her warm, clinging fingers returned the pressure of his larger hand.

“I’ll carve one from that description. I promise to do it with my
own
two hands.” His right thumb stroked the top of her hands, while his arms longed to draw her close.

“Samuel, you’re so nice.”

“That’s because I care about you.”

Her fingers wiggled to slide free of his grasp. “I care for you. We’re friends.” Her cheeks flushed with color, but a smile trembled on her lips.

“We’ve been
friends
a long time. I want to let you know what’s in my heart. It’s time I say it.” He reached for the wayward hand and drew it back into his clasp. “Ella Dessa, from the first time I saw you I knew—”

“It’s cold out there!”

They both jumped. Agatha bustled in the back door. Samuel let go of Ella Dessa’s hand and groaned.

“It’s snowing now.” The elderly woman brushed flakes off her shoulders. “Samuel, tell your mother I need her to check my lengths of lace. I’m doin’ quite well on them, but I want her to inspect the work.” Agatha’s large figure overpowered the store. The scent of soap and lavender wafted with her movements.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll be sure to let her know.”

“Just ask her to stop in at the house the next time she goes to Grace’s.” She tossed her woolen cape over a chair near the fireplace and went around the counter. “How’s Konrad?”

Ella Dessa stepped out of her way and sent Samuel an impish grin.

“He’s teaching, not complaining of his leg, but limps. I do the morning classes with the little ones.”

“Why, so I heard. Now, where?” Agatha’s voice grew muffled as she bent over and rummaged through some narrow shelves. Her wide backside was all that showed until she turned. “You always wanted to teach. Ella, where does Walter keep his barn lanterns?”

Ella Dessa pointed to a wall shelf above their heads. “Up there, near the ceilin’.”

“Oh, my.” The woman cocked her head. “I’ll need a ladder. Velma said the barn was too dark last night with all the clouds. But,
my
… wasn’t it a bright moon a few nights ago? It lit the whole holler. Ella, didn’t I say it meant a turn in the weather?” Her dark eyebrows lifted in
two perfect arches.

“Yes’um. I’ll find you a lantern. Give me a few moments.” Her hand squeezed Samuel’s arm. “You be careful goin’ home. It’ll be worse up there.”

He peered through the warped glass in the front window. “I know. I best head up the trail. Sada isn’t young anymore.”

“None of us are.” Agatha plopped herself in a rocker near the crackling fire. “I’ll wait on you two. Say your goodbyes.” She winked and gave them a playful grin, showing one missing tooth.

Ella Dessa went to the fireplace. “Here, don’t forget your hand warmers.” She dropped small rocks in each of his coat pockets. “There.” They walked to the back window. “Poor Sada, she looks miser’ble. Are you sure ‘bout her makin’ it up the trail? Will it be slick?”

“Muddy but not icy.” He wanted to talk to her some more, but Agatha’s presence curtailed his intentions. His fingers longed to touch the softness of her cheek.

“Hurry; get Sada up that mountain trail ‘fore the snow gets worse.”

“Ella Dessa?” He dropped his voice so words wouldn’t carry across the room. “I want to tell you—” Hesitating, he raised his right hand, brushed his fingers along her brow, and down through the length of her hair. He crushed the curling ends, reveling in the softness.