Within the Candle's Glow (9 page)

“
J
osh?” Naomi jiggled his thin shoulder. “Ella Dessa’s here.”

Ella bent close. “Josh?”

His mahogany eyes fluttered open, searched Ella’s face, and came to rest on her lips. “Ella Des … sa,” he whispered. “Must speak with you …
alone
.”

“Ella Dessa, you shouldn’t.” Disquiet showed in Naomi’s eyes.

“For a moment?”

“It’s not
proper
.” The preacher’s wife fiddled with the upsweep coil of her hair and then folded her arms under her generous bosom. “You being unwed and all, it’s not right I leave you with him.”

“Please?”

“Then keep the door open. My husband and I’ll be near the fireplace, should you need us.” The woman shuffled through the doorway with an uncertain glance over her shoulder. The lines around her mouth pulled downward, marring her good looks.

Josh whispered, “I brung somethin’ for your ma.” He made a vague movement with his hand. “My pack—get it.”

“My ma?” She started to protest, but it dawned on her—Josh thought Velma was her mother. “Josh, she’s not my mama. Years ago, the dead miner you found wasn’t my pa. I only live with Velma.”

A perplexed look shadowed his thin face. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does in some ways.” She went around the narrow bed, lifted his stained saddlebag from a straight-backed chair, and brought it to him.

“Open it. Pull out the leather pouch.” He ran his tongue over cracked lips. “Undo it.”

She tugged at the drawstring and tilted the gathered opening to the light from a single square window. In her palm, the thin leather bag felt lumpy but not heavy. She peered inside, drawing an uneven breath.

“Josh, what’s this?”

“What’s it
look
like?” A gleam of a smile lit his eyes but not his colorless lips.

“Gold. This is
gold
.” Confused, she shook her head. “Why? What’s this have to do with Velma Clanders?”

“It’s hers.” He fingered the bruise and old cut on his cheekbone. “I brung it to her.”

“
Hers?
” She choked on the short word.

“Yeah.” He took an uneven breath and blew it out over his thin lips. “All of it.” He closed his eyes and his face twisted. He gritted his teeth. “Gold ain’t as plen … tiful.”

“You in pain?”

“Yes, jest pains in my gut. Guess I’ve been emptied like a hibernatin’ bear. Got the growls.”

“Why do you say it’s Velma’s?”

“It jest is.” With eyes closed, he clutched the blanket’s top edge. His nail-bitten fingers were dirty. “When we came by her man’s legs an’ boots danglin’ in the creek, we both dug him out of the collapsed river bank. That’s where he mined for gold traces. There were a knapsack buried with him, under the dirt that smothered him. I saw my partner paw through it—pocket the leather bag. Later, he stashed it in the holler of a lightnin’-struck tree. I seen him. Follered him there.” He swallowed, groaning. “I didn’t dare cross him or tell no one. He’s dead, now.”

“Who’s
dead
?”

“Lance. The man with me the day we come here—years ago.” Josh opened his pain-narrowed eyes. One of his hands rubbed the heavy blanket covering his stomach. “He got hisself kilt by another miner, one who didn’t take to his bullyin’. He weren’t nothin’ but a stupe. I fetched this bag once I knew no one cared ‘bout followin’ me. I came down sick, hit hard times, an’ then watched sixteen of my Cherokee friends torn from their rightful land. They were hauled away … to the west. I heard
parts of their kin struck out for southern territory Spaniards called
Florida
.” He ran his fingers through his black hair and tugged. Anguish bunched his face and eyes. “They was all I had for friends.”

Ella drew in a breath. His poignant words touched her. She knew the pain surrounding the roundup of the Cherokees the winter before. Her thoughts often dwelt on Mama’s Indian friends—dear people who gave up their farms and homes and hid in wilder, higher parts of the mountains. She often wondered if they were still up there.

“I have no one to give gold to.” Josh rubbed a hand over his forehead. “I hate even God.”

“Don’t speak like that.” She was horrified to hear him voice such blasphemy. “
Shh
, you
mustn’t!
”

“Why not? Not Him—not nobody ever cared ‘bout me. My pa kilt my ma when I was near ‘bout ten. Nobody cared ’cause she were called a
half-breed
. Trapper’s squaw.” Josh swallowed. “I ran. Ain’t no one followed an’ no one cared.” His eyes cut to the bag. “That there gold is Velma’s. I ain’t spendin’ it. Ella Des … sa, you give it to her. I saw right off—years ago. She cares ‘bout her young’uns.” He paused, closing his eyes. His breath came in gasps.

Worried, she started to call for the preacher and his wife, but Josh’s eyelids fluttered.

“I came near to dyin’ while workin’ at the Pigeon Roost mine two summers ago. A cave-in broke my leg.” His right hand patted his blanket-covered thigh. “Couldn’t work—couldn’t hunt—couldn’t eat.”

“I’m sorry. You should’ve used the gold.”

“No.” He glared at her, his eyes turning to glittery black ice. “I’m
honest.
Don’t care ‘bout no God, but I’m honest. With me it’s all or nothin’.”

She dangled the bag from her fingertips. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. “You don’t know what this’ll mean to Velma an’ the children.”

“You’re one of her young’uns.”

“Guess she thinks so.”

“Take it to her.”

“I will.” She stood, studying his pasty-white face. “Josh. I cain’t believe you did this, but thanks.” A tear slipped down her cheek. She brushed it aside. “Rest and eat all they’ll offer.”

He caught her tear-dampened hand. “It’s
yer face
that kept me honest—nothin’ else.”

“Don’t say that.” Easing her fingers from his persistent grip, she shook her head. “No, in the past you knew God. He nudged you to be honest.”

His narrowed eyes traveled over her neck. “I don’t know God. Those scars are your only flaw. What happened?”

With a shocked gasp, she covered the exposed area with her hand. She had forgotten about the lost button in the church. “I—I’d rather not talk ‘bout it. I must go. I’ll give the gold to Velma. Thank you, ag’in.”

She didn’t stop to tell Naomi goodbye, fearful she might burst into tears. Josh’s words kept ringing in her ears as she fled down the steps.

Those scars are your only flaw.

“Just ignore his hurtful words. Find Velma,” she whispered. “Got to tell her the news.” She ran toward the church. Mr. Beckler’s wagon was gone. Silence covered the churchyard and field. Filled with disbelief that they had left her, she started for home.

A tall figure stood under a tree, holding the reins to a black horse.

“Jim?” She tried hiding how delighted she was to see him, but at the same time, she slapped her right hand over her scars and stood staring at him. Her left hand clutched the bag of gold at her side. “You haven’t left?”

“I waited.” He slipped his hat from his head, circling it in his hands. “I promised Velma I’d see you home. Samuel wanted to stay, but I sent him with my parents. Papa wasn’t doing well. You’ve been crying?” His eyes darkened to the gray shade of a summer thundercloud.

“No. Just tired.”

“Your blouse is torn?
A button missing
.” He whirled toward the preacher’s house. “That man—what happened in there?”

“I did this earlier. I lost the button.” Miserable, with mixed thoughts swirling through her head, she muttered, “He didn’t cause a problem.”

“But you’re upset.”

“I just want to go home.”

His facial expression indicated he didn’t believe her. “Do you want to ride my horse? I can walk.”

“I’d rather walk.” With one more tug on her open collar, she angled for the wagon trail, which crossed the clearing.

“Twenty-one families now live here in the cove. We should have picnics more often.” He fell in step with her, hat in hand. His horse followed without Jim holding the reins.

“Picnics are fun.” Her fingers squeezed the bag of gold. “Of course,
this picnic didn’t go as planned.”

“Life has a way of tossing us surprises.”

She gazed up at him and marveled at his thick eyelashes. “Yes. It does.” They enhanced his eyes, making them sensual and captivating. She felt her cheeks warm at her unusual thoughts.

“Did Mother tell you that my little brother, Phillip, is still not talking as well as he should? It’s worse.”

“No, she didn’t mention it.”

“You know he never talked much when he was younger. We thought it’d change.”

“He’s so sweet. No one notices.”

Jim slapped the hat against his right thigh. Dust twirled away, joining the gentle breeze blowing through the cove. He sighed, his breath forced between parted lips.

“He’s not dumb.”

“We all know that.” She thought how he sometimes reminded her of a red wolf—tense and wired to leap into action. “I wish I had seen him today. I’m sure he’s gettin’ tall.” She breathed in the mingled scent of sweat, sun-warmed skin, and the wood smoke clinging to his clothes.

“That he is.” He lifted his head and grinned. “Even with his problem, or because of it, Phillip wraps everyone around his finger.”

“Yes, he does.” She turned to stare at the wooded mountain slopes lining the narrow cove. She was fully aware of Jim watching her. “Why are you starin’ at me?”

“The sunlight makes your hair glisten.”

“It does?” She tried not to show the pleasure she felt.

“Yes. I like it.” He twirled his hat and plopped it back on his head. His horse nuzzled his arm. “I suppose Samuel tells you the same thing.” He snatched a long stem of wiry grass and twisted it around one finger.

“Samuel?” She faced him. “No, cain’t recall he’s ever said that.”

He smiled. “We must walk faster. I’ve got to get you home.”

“Yes.” Disappointment washed over her. She had liked the strange turn in the conversation.

“Can’t help but be curious as to what this
Josh
has to do with you, even though Velma explained where you met him.”

She avoided his stare and laced her fingers around the bag of gold. “He came back here to the cove—to give me somethin’.” She saw no reason to keep it a secret and lifted the swinging bag.

“To give
you
? Appeared out of nowhere—almost dead—just to give
you something?” He pulled at the neck of his shirt as if it irritated him. “I don’t like the idea. Him—bein’ a stranger and all.” He ran one hand over his face. His fingers rasped against the shadow of a dark beard. “Don’t keep me in suspense. What’d he give you?”

She laughed. “It’s not for me. It’s for
Velma
.” She stopped walking and loosened the neck of the bag. “Take a peek.”

He leaned in. “Wow. That’s gold
nuggets
and gold dust.” Jim’s horse tried to nibble at the bag. He shoved the animal away. “Whoa. That’s not food.”

“Josh tells me it’s gold Velma’s dead husband mined out of the ground. He wants me to take it to her.”

“After all these years? That’s hard to believe …” He shook his head and chuckled. “I want to see her face when you give it to her. Can I?”

“Yes.” She tightened the closure on the bag and rolled it up. Clenching it in her fist, she smiled. “I’m fearful to walk with this much in my hand.”

“You’ve got me at your side.”

He playfully offered his elbow. She wasted no time in slipping her hand through it.

“Then my well-bein’ is secure.”

“I’ll be your protection as long as you need me.” His callus-roughened fingers patted her hand—nestled in the bend of his left elbow.

With head bowed to hide the warmth on her cheeks, she smiled.
He fails to realize how long I might want protection.

Jim’s fingertips tightened. “Knowing you were in there with a stranger made me suffer more anger and worry than I’ve experienced in a long time.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Why? He’s sicker than a snake-bit dog. Granny wanted me with her.”

He stopped in the path. “I saw how he feels about you.”

“What?” Dumbfounded, she shook her head. “
Feels
‘bout me? He an’ I spoke one time—years ago.”

Sober eyes, the color of a brewing storm, challenged her statement. “You didn’t notice? He’s in love with you.”

“In
love
with me?” She withdrew her hand from his arm. “You’re touched from the heat.”

Besides, no one wants a girl with a flawed neck
.

“Why would a sick man ride into our cove to give you a bag of gold?”

“He didn’t give it to
me
—it’s for
Velma
. He thought she was my mama. He’s an honest man!” She fought the frustration at having to defend Josh. It seemed absurd.

“How do you know it’s Velma’s gold—gold her man panned out of a stream? Maybe Josh dug it out of the ground
himself.
It’s a way he can lay a wondrous gift at your feet, hoping you’ll accept it. Perhaps, he’ll coax you to accept
him.
”