Within the Candle's Glow (36 page)

“I’m takin’ you home,” he muttered.

Home?

The recognizable surroundings of her childhood home came into view. She stumbled over the threshold as Josh pushed her through the sagging doorway.

The remaining meager light filtered out of a ragged hole in the roof. The interior smelled worse than when she and Jim waited out the rainstorm. The odor of rotting wood, mold, and dampness permeated it. Unrecognizable things crunched beneath her boots. Feces and tiny bones of rodents littered the floor—even grayish-white, gnawed bones of a larger animal.

Under the damaged roof, the curtain around her mama’s bed hung in filthy, unrecognizable shreds. Mice had chewed into the discolored cornhusk mattress and secured nesting spots. The blackened, ash-filled fireplace looked eerie. With a strangled moan, she bolted for the door, but Josh easily blocked her flight with his lanky body and legs.

“Whoa. Sit.” He propelled her to one of the benches.

“Josh,
why?
” She perched on the edge, crossed her arms over her queasy stomach, and dug her fingernails into her sleeves. “You ain’t an evil man.”

“I’m not.”

“Then,
please
, let me go. Velma will worry. You don’t want that, do you?” She tried to appeal to his childish side.

“No.”

“I’m late. It’s almost dark. You know Walter
will
come lookin’.”

He shrugged and laid his long weapon on the dusty mantel. “Don’t matter. No one’ll look here tonight. By daylight we’ll be gone.”

“Gone?” She eyed his gun. Could she grab it?

“Yes, we’re goin’ to Terminus. G’ttin’ hitched tomorrow.”

“Married?” Her voice quavered as her empty stomach heaved.

“I know I ain’t asked you, but I’ll take keer of you. I don’t mind your red, bumpy scars. I’ll marry you—proper like.”

She could almost believe time ricocheted backward to childhood. Her stepfather stood before her—tall, skinny, and mean. His words had often shredded her self-worth.
No man’ll ever wed ya … proper like.

Josh wiped a hand across his wide mouth and squinted at her lips without blinking. “I seen how Samuel treats you, kissin’ on you one moment, then mistreatin’ you the next.”

“
You’ve
spied on us?”

“I stuck close. He ain’t goin’ to make you cry no more.”

She didn’t need it explained to her. Josh was unstable, like a man with two minds—one childish and the other dangerous.

Someone might start wonderin’, when I don’t show up to ride the horse home.

Ella tried to guess how long it’d take Walter to realize something was amiss if she didn’t come home. He’d go to the McKnapp homestead, first. They couldn’t search during the night, even with torches. So, they’d wait until daylight—and it’d be too late.

“Josh, take me to Miles. You like him. He pays you to do work. Samuel won’t bother me there. Hide me in the barn.” She said it with what she trusted was a conspirator’s tone and hoped it would satisfy him. “You can visit me there. We’ll talk ‘bout … the weddin’.”

“That’s your real pa.” He shook his head. “No, I got to git us more gold, and then I’ll take you to Florida. I got friends—Indian friends we’ll live with. See, I care ‘nough ‘bout you to plan all this.” He squatted by the fireplace. His long legs seemed peculiar, all bent up, like a large
praying mantis. The lack of light in the room hollowed in his eyes. “Cain’t have no fire.”

She shivered and rubbed her upper sleeves. “I don’t want to get married. Josh—”

“I’ve been stayin’ here some nights.”

Yes, she could see there were two handmade crates in the room and dirty clothes spilled from them. Filthy dishes lined the table. A rusty frying pan occupied her mama’s flat rock in the fireplace. She had forgotten all about the special rock used for cooking. She bit down on her bottom lip to stop tears. Memories and the sight of Josh’s meager belongings collided in her mind. She pressed her fingers against her forehead.

“What’s wrong?”

“My head hurts. Josh, you need to take me home ‘fore it’s fully dark. Please, guide me home, so I—won’t lose my way.” She tried a soft appeal. “You can help me.”

“No.” He stood. Half of his face remained obscured in the shadows. “I knew the first time I seen you. We’ll be married.”

“I don’t love you.” She placed a hand over her heart. “There’s another person in my heart.”

He towered over her. “Samuel don’t own yer heart. It’s always been mine. Mine ’fore time began. It’s written in our blood.”

She avoided his eyes.
Please, Lord, let someone come searchin’. I need help to get away. Tell me what to say to him—how to act.

Josh fingered her loose hair, pulling at it, and twirling a strand around one dirty finger.

“Don’t. Please.”

He made a humming noise deep in his throat. “It’s soft. I knew it was.”

“I want to go home.” The scent of his sweaty body infiltrated the close quarters.

#

Jim finished the plowing as the sun fell behind the western rim. Bigger-than-life shadows stretched to touch him. He lingered by the gate, brushed dust off his pant legs, and watched Samuel drive in the eight head of cattle—all they owned. Their twenty-five sheep and few lambs milled in the corral, protected for the night. One of Dancer’s male offspring lay near the gate, his head resting on his front paws, and his golden-brown eyes watchful.

“Numbers dwindling,” Jim said, even though he wasn’t unhappy to see the count go down on the sheep.

They had sold fifteen. Something had killed and dragged away six in the past two months. With a nudge of guilt, he turned to watch his brother shoo the last cow into the second fenced area near the barn. Jim knew his mother wanted to keep the sheep.

Samuel latched the gate with his left hand and kept his face averted.

“I ache all over.” Jim rubbed his dirty neck. “I think I found every rock in the side field. I don’t have strength to tote water for a bath.”

His brother barely acknowledged him, only grunted in reply.

“What’s troubling you?”

“No troubles I know of.”

“I didn’t see you and Ella come back from the stream.”

“Didn’t come back that way.”

“How was the stream? Blocked up or running full?” He wrinkled his nose at the scent of the sheep pen.

“Not too bad.” Samuel headed for the house.

Jim pressed on with his questions. He was curious and quickened his steps. “Are you going to ask Ella to marry you?”

“No.”

“That’s not what I heard Peggy whisper to Mother, yesterday at breakfast.”

“Peggy needs to keep quiet.” Samuel stalked ahead. His handless arm swung free of the pocket.

Jim stared at it. He tried to imagine what it would be like to awaken and find out your hand had been sliced from your body. Compassion swelled in his heart, and he sprinted to catch up and touch his brother’s shoulder.

“Samuel, I won’t stand in the way. You’ve no competition from me. It was fun teasing about it, but I gave up the idea some time ago that Ella would consider me.”

“Not my concern.” He shrugged off Jim’s hand.

“You’re her age. I see her coming to visit you, regular like. The first time she found you sitting on the porch,
outside
, with Anna and Phillip, she was thrilled your arm was healing. She’ll make a wonderful wife.”

His brother stopped and turned. His green eyes hardened.

“I don’t
want
Ella Dessa as my wife. I
will not
saddle any woman with this.” He raised his arm. The sleeve slipped away, exposing red and purple scars, but no fingers or well-shaped hand. The gloominess of the
long evening shadows deepened the new skin growth to muted shades of mauve.

“Sam, it wouldn’t matter to Ella.” Jim wanted to look away but couldn’t. He fought nausea. In his mind, he could clearly see his brother’s long, tapered fingers attached to a hand similar to their papa’s. “You need to … ask her.”

Samuel’s face, which had grown thinner since the accident, failed to reflect pleasure at Jim’s words.

“Jim, she doesn’t love me in that way. I
also
overheard Peggy talking to Mother—whispering that she thought by marrying me, Ella Dessa could restore me to my
former
self.”

“What?” Jim blinked in disbelief. “Listen to me, Ella would only marry a man she loves.”

“No.
You
listen.”

“What?
Me
listen to you?” He caught himself as Samuel’s jaw clenched. “I’m sorry. What do you want to say?”

“Jim, she cares for me, but she’s not
in love
with me. She’s willing to give herself and sacrifice her life to save me from the deep hollow she believes I’ve fallen in.” Samuel worked the fingers on his left hand, opening and shutting them. “Today I told her to leave me alone.”

“
What?
” Jim shouted again. “You
said
it to her face? That had to hurt.”

“Now, you can go
comfort
her.”

“Samuel McKnapp, you’ve no feelings.”

“Maybe I don’t.”

What was left of the day’s light barely lit the plowed field behind them. Jim fought the urge to punch his brother’s handsome face.

“Sam, she cares deeply about you—
call
it love, if you want. That’s what it is. She’d marry you, bear your children, and never desire another man. You know each other’s good points and bad. She
does
love you.”

“What do you know of love?” Samuel pulled his sleeve down and headed for the house, but turned back to glare at Jim. “I made her cry. I reminded her of how ugly
her
scars are.”

“Why, you ought to be bullwhipped.” Jim raised his fist, advanced a step, and fought the anger shaking him.

“If you’re big enough—get one of Duncan’s whips. Our wayward brother left plenty in the barn.” Samuel sneered at him and continued, “Go on. It’ll do you good. Take a whip to me. You hate me, much like you hate Duncan.”

“How can you say that?” He started to say more, but a movement near the steps of the dogtrot caught his attention.
Walter’s horse?
The big bay’s tail swished sideways. “I thought you said Ella left. Why’s the horse still here?”

“I thought—”

“
What
was that?” Somewhere behind them, back in the woods near the stream, a dog’s plaintive, drawn-out howl made Jim turn on his heels. “Sam, is that her dog?”

Samuel’s face lost all color. “That’s Deer.”

Both of them stood riveted in silence. The pitiful noise came again.

“Get my gun,” Jim barked. “Bring it!” He jogged back the way they had come.

The whine of pain got louder. He entered the woods and strained to see in the gloomy light. Samuel came running up behind him, gun cradled in his bent elbow. “Find him?”

“No.”

The sound emanated from a shadow not ten feet in front of them. Jim knelt beside Deer. The dog was on his stomach, exhausted, but still determined to creep forward on three good legs. His right hind leg was crushed. It hung useless and bloody.

“Ahh, my Lord,” Jim breathed in petition. “How’d this happen?” He tore off his shirt and tucked it under the whimpering dog. “Ella wouldn’t leave her dog! Samuel, you said she left!”

“Jim, she ran into the woods earlier. I thought—I just thought she had come back out and rode home.” He stared at the darkening trail, his face pinched and white.

“Why wouldn’t you check?” Jim’s mind reeled in instant rage. “You should’ve gone after her.” He pointed at the limp dog. “Help me. Slide your left hand under his body while I lift.” He gave his brother a look of contempt as he grabbed the material at the dog’s head and tail. He formed a swinging cradle and stood.

They transported the injured animal to their bedroom.

“Place him on the floor.” Samuel’s face was the color of chalk as he spoke.

Jim lowered the silent dog to the floor and stood. “He’s in bad shape.”

“Go.” Samuel pressed the gun into Jim’s hands. An unspoken look of trepidation passed between them. “I’ll take Walter’s horse and ride to the cove to see if she walked home. I’ll take Papa’s old gun and fire three shots if I find her.”

“How?” Jim wiped the dog’s blood off his chest. His hands shook. “Tell me how you can ride with one hand and hold a gun.” He snatched a clean shirt off a peg, laid the gun on the bed, and shrugged his head and arms into the shirt.

“I can hold the reins with the bend of my elbow. A gun with the left.”

Jim nodded and admitted a tiny surge of pride at his brother’s answer. “That’s the way to think.”

“Jim, you’re her
only
hope. It’s all my fault.”

“Stop it,” he warned. “I’ll find her for you—if she’s not at home. You can then ask her forgiveness, tell her you love her, and end this craziness. You’ve
got to
marry her.”

Jim knew they were both afraid some calamity had overtaken Ella. She’d never leave an injured dog, and the dog hadn’t willingly left her side. Jim clasped his younger brother’s shoulders in a brief hug. The desperate look in Samuel’s eyes told him where his brother’s heart lay … totally at Ella’s feet.