“There’s no need. You always have a home. You know that.”
“Yes, I do. And it is a great source of comfort, but I believe I’d like to do something with my life.”
Sally chuckled. “You’re not interested in becoming a cat lady?”
Louisa pushed at her sister. “I might have cats, but I think I’ll aim a little higher.” She knew what she’d like to do, but she wasn’t sure how to make it happen.
Over the next few days she worked hard to get her feelings under control. She smiled to prove she wasn’t upset and to keep her mother from worrying. Yes, she’d be okay. Did she have a choice?
She would move on.
For three days she planned and prayed, then she went to talk to Madge. “I want to become a teacher.”
“Great. Glad to hear it.”
“You don’t think I need to stay home and take care of Mother?”
Madge sighed, as if Louisa’s question signified faulty reasoning. “Mother will be okay. We’ll see to it. Sally can get a job if necessary. Haven’t we always managed?”
“Yes. And of course, once I start work I’ll be able to help even more.” Though there were teachers who didn’t get their promised wages. The funds simply weren’t available. However, that was a problem she’d deal with when she confronted it. “I don’t have the money.” She’d received her earnings for tutoring Ellie and given the funds to Mother. It had paid off the doctor’s bill and eased Louisa’s mind on that matter. “I could borrow the amount, but I only know of one person who could afford to lend it to me.”
“Emmet?”
Louisa recoiled in horror. “I wouldn’t ask him even if he had it.” She hoped she could avoid him until she made her escape. “I mean Uncle Peter.”
“But Mother—”
“I know. Will you help me ask her if I can write him?”
“You could write without her permission.” Madge’s tone indicated she didn’t think it was a good idea.
“No. I don’t want to upset her. Besides, I really want her blessing.”
So Madge came over for afternoon tea. Sally had also promised to support Louisa’s cause.
Louisa waited until the ordinary things had been discussed—the weather, the gardens, who had moved away, the houses the bank had foreclosed on, who was having a baby. She wondered if Mother would ever run out of topics.
Finally, Mother glanced around the table. “So what brings the three of you together in the middle of the week?”
The girls tried to look offended.
“Do we need an excuse to get together?” Madge demanded. “I’m here so often, I’m surprised you don’t ask how Judd manages on his own?”
It wasn’t quite true, but Madge did pop over often.
Mother fluttered her hands. “All of you have a let’s-ask-Mother look. What is it you want to ask me?”
Sally and Madge turned toward Louisa, effectively informing Mother who wanted to ask something.
She swallowed hard, silently said a quick prayer and smiled, hoping to disguise the anxiety that suddenly threaded through her insides. Not until now did she realize how badly she wanted this. “Mother, I discovered how much I enjoy teaching, and Adele says I have natural talent for the task. I want your approval to go to Normal school. My earnings will help out once I get a job.”
Mother studied her fingers a moment before replying. “I have no doubt you would make a fine teacher. My concern lies in the unsavory conditions some teachers must endure. I’ve heard stories of rural teachers practically starving to death, having to share tight quarters—” She fluttered her hands again. “I don’t think you are up to that kind of hardship.”
Louisa figured she could put up with almost anything she made up her mind to. She was learning that she could live and thrive despite a broken heart. How could physical challenges be any more difficult? “I would make sure I take a position that offers decent accommodations.”
Mother nodded. “I suppose I must content myself with that. Very well, you have my blessing.”
“Thank you.”
A heavy, waiting silence descended over the table.
“There’s something more?” Mother asked.
Louisa nodded. “I want to ask Uncle Peter if I may borrow the money from him to attend Normal school.” She saw the beginning of a refusal on Mother’s face and rushed on. “I know of no one else I could ask for money. And I intend to pay it back. Mother, please say it’s okay. You must understand that I can’t stay here and watch everyone else marry and have children while I sit around doing nothing but growing old. I need to do something.”
Mother considered Louisa for a moment, gave the other girls a studied look. “It seems you are both in support of her idea.”
Sally and Madge nodded.
“I confess my only objection to Peter is he kept himself distanced from the family. I know your father was hurt by it, although he insisted Peter had his reasons. I suppose I have been somewhat unforgiving toward him. I just never realized it. You go ahead and write him. Perhaps I’ll include a little note of apology as well.”
Relief fell from Louisa’s shoulders. “Thank you, Mother.”
She wrote the letter that very afternoon. Took it to town and mailed it, carefully avoiding the street where the Hamiltons lived. Not that it stopped her from thinking of the occupants. How was Ellie managing schoolwork? When would she see the doctor again? Would they leave as soon as Ellie didn’t need crutches?
She stumbled. Blamed the rough road. Knew it was the weakness of her limbs at knowing Emmet would soon leave and she would never see him again.
All the more reason to move on with her life.
She delivered the letter to the postal wicket and released it with a degree of relish.
The first step in her future.
A future without Emmet and Ellie.
Chapter Fourteen
Emmet took the note Ellie brought home from Miss Ross. “Are you in trouble?”
Ellie shrugged, her gaze direct and challenging. She’d been moody for days. Since Louisa had said she wouldn’t marry Emmet, but he refused to acknowledge it had begun then. Even as his own unsettled misery had begun at the same time.
He could live without her. Without marriage. Even if he had to remind himself how okay he was a thousand times a day.
He’d gone for walks. Heard the birds in the trees singing as if everything in the world was right. Sing anyway. Louisa’s words mocked him. What did birds know about loss and pain and failure? They just laid eggs and were oblivious to the rest of the world. He wished he could find the same freedom.
The next afternoon, in response to Adele’s request to meet her, he went to the classroom. Last time he’d been here he’d been with Louisa. He remembered noticing her generous smile, her chocolate-rich eyes, her—
That was then. This was now. No point in looking backward. It would only make him stumble.
Adele waited for him in the classroom and indicated he should sit in the front desk. He already knew he needed a shoehorn to pry himself in and out. Louisa, on the other hand, had slipped in with the ease of a child. She was slender as a willow branch. Moved as gracefully as one waving in the wind.
Enough. He had to stop seeing her in every corner of his house, remembering her in every corner of his life.
“You wanted to talk about Ellie?” He realized he sounded cross. He’d have to watch that. It wasn’t Adele’s fault he kept thinking of Louisa and resenting he couldn’t erase her from his mind.
“Ellie has regressed. I’m wondering if there is something wrong to cause this.”
“Regressed? How?”
“A number of ways. For instance, she says she can’t read.”
“She can read. I know it.” Louisa’s drawings and cards had made it easy for Ellie to learn. Too bad she hadn’t made it easy for Emmet to forget.
“She says she can’t remember. I’m afraid there’s more. She is uncooperative and says things like her father generally l
ets her do as she pleases. Reminds us all that she doesn’t have a mother, so she should be excused. I’m very sorry she is motherless, but I’m afraid I can’t excuse bad behavior because of that.”
“Of course not.” But he had no idea what to do. He wasn’t going to marry just to give Ellie a mother. Besides, he seriously doubted it would solve the problem.
“I think you need to talk to her. See if you can find out what’s going on. Perhaps review her skills at home.”
“I’ll do that. For sure.” He left a few minutes later, feeling as if he failed even at being a father. What did God expect from him? How could he find a degree of success? He didn’t know.
The only thing that made sense was to return to the ranch as soon as Ellie was ready to go.
That night he pulled out the reading cards. “Let’s play a game.”
“It’s Louisa’s game.”
“She gave it to you. It’s yours.”
“I don’t want to read.”
“Miss Ross says you need to practice at home.” He shuffled the cards and passed them out. Ellie half-heartedly played. In the end he had the vast majority of matched cards.
“Miss Ross is right. You’re being uncooperative. What’s wrong?”
She shrugged. “I miss Louisa. Not that you care.”
He scooped her up, sat with her on his lap and rocked back and forth, finding a modicum of comfort both in the warmth of her little body in his arms and the rhythmic motion. “Button, I care very much that you’re hurting. But what can I do?”
“Ask her again.”
“It’s not that easy.” He couldn’t ask her. It made him feel as if he’d swallowed battery acid to think of her pain. And he’d never be able to make things better for her. He’d never be able to take care of her as he should.
The words struck a chord so deep in his thoughts that it startled him. It was as if he’d heard the words before. Of course he knew where they came from. When Jane died, he’d beat himself up mentally that he hadn’t been able to protect her. But even then, they had a familiar ring. As if he’d heard them or said them before. But when? It didn’t make sense, and he pushed the silly idea away.
Somehow they struggled through the next few days, Ellie barely making an effort to read or cooperate at school. He could hardly wait for the day he took Ellie to visit the doctor again. After that, Lord willing and the creek don’t rise, they would head home. He’d originally planned to stay until Ellie finished the school year, but now it seemed a futile reason.
Finally the day to visit the doctor arrived. They drove to the office. Neither of them spoke. Emmet had no idea if Ellie worried about whether or not she would lose the crutches. Lately it had been hard to figure out anything when it came to Ellie.
Lord, help her be okay.
He marveled often that he turned to prayer even in his disappointment. Of course Ellie wasn’t part of his disappointment. He could and would continue to pray for her well-being.
They walked into the office, and Doc waved them into the examining room. The nurse led Ellie to the X-ray room, and Emmet sat and drummed his fingertips together and tried not to remember the last visit to this room. Louisa had sat right beside him, waiting while the X-rays were taken. She’d smiled and laughed. He couldn’t remember what he said. But he’d never forget the way he felt. As if music filled him. How could she be so cheerful, so gentle, so serene while all the time holding such a painful secret?
How could she say sing anyway? He wasn’t sure he’d ever sing again. Certainly, he’d never feel music in his soul again.
Why was he feeling sorry for himself? He had a precious little girl and a ranch. Once he got back on familiar ground, both he and Ellie would feel better. Except—he could no longer deny the nagging question—how could he watch Ellie, keep her safe and at the same time run the ranch?
The doctor led Ellie from the other room and held up the X-ray.
“Good news all ’round. This leg has healed nicely.” He nodded satisfaction. “Nicely indeed. Young lady, you can throw away your crutches.”
Ellie handed them off to the nurse hovering at her side and marched around the room, as if to prove to everyone she needed them no more.
“She’s okay?” Emmet wasn’t ready to believe it.
“Should be as good as new, though it will likely take a few weeks for her to get her strength back.” He turned to Ellie. “No more climbing trees. Okay?”
Ellie nodded. “Only little ones.”
Doc laughed. “You got yourself a little tomboy.”
“She needs to be. Ranch life requires she know how to ride and sometimes fend for herself.”
The doctor gave him a few more instructions before they left.
“Thanks, Doc.” On the way out, Emmet dropped the money for the visit on the desk. They returned to the truck. “Do you want to get a candy or ice cream?”
“I guess.”
Hardly the enthusiasm one might expect, and no comparison to their last visit.
Ellie would get over her disappointment as soon as they returned to the ranch, but Emmet knew the rest of his life would be but a pale shadow of the few weeks he’d enjoyed Louisa’s company.
They stopped at the store. Joanie saw her without crutches and cheered. “All better. I expect you’re pretty happy about that.”
“I guess.”
Joanie blinked. “Wow, kid. Try to contain your enthusiasm.”
Ellie shrugged. “What’s so special about getting better?”
“Sure beats lying about in a body cast.”
Ellie sighed. “It wasn’t so bad.”
Emmet knew what she meant. Being in her cast meant Louisa came every day. They both missed her visits. Not that he would wish Ellie back in a cast for such selfish reasons. “Pick out a candy stick.”
Ellie didn’t take any time making her selection. She took a licorice-flavored stick, stuck it in her mouth and headed back to the truck.
“She’s just—” Emmet shrugged. He couldn’t begin to explain Ellie’s behavior. He dropped two pennies on the counter and left the store. They drove home without speaking. The only sound was Ellie slurping the candy.
Auntie May looked up as they entered the house. “Well, well. No more crutches?”
“Nope.” Ellie crossed to her room and flopped on the bed.
“Shouldn’t she be happier about this?” Auntie May asked. “Something wrong?”
“She’s homesick. I’ll take care of it.” Emmet strode into the bedroom and closed the door. He sat on the edge of the bed. “Ellie, I know what will make you feel better.”
“Humph.”
“We’re going home.”
She didn’t move. Didn’t respond. Had she heard?
“We’re going back to the ranch. You can ride your pony again—”
“I don’t want to go home.”
“Of course you do. Things will be better once we get back there.”
“No they won’t.” Her voice rose to a screech. “Things will never be better, and it’s all your fault. It’s your fault Louisa doesn’t come to see us anymore. Everything is your fault.” She flipped to her stomach and buried her face in the pillow.
“Ellie?” He touched her back.
She shrugged from his hand. “Go away. Leave me alone. It’s your fault and I’ll never forgive you.”
He stared at her a moment as the words raged through his mind. It’s your fault. It’s your fault.
Ah. The words hurt, they tore at his thoughts, they blasted at doors, they pounded at a memory.
Why couldn’t he keep his loved ones safe? Why did he always fail?
Just like Mama.
He dropped his hands to his sides and stared into nothing. Where did that thought come from? How could this be like his mother’s death? And how could it be his fault? He was only nine years old at the time of the accident. He remembered so little about it. Shock had dulled his memories.
Auntie May had always assured him it wasn’t his
fault.
Why would she say that unless there was reason he might believe he was to blame?
He fled the room, passed Auntie May without looking at her. He barely realized she watched him, her expression wreathed in sympathy. He flung out the door and strode away, down the back lane, out of town, across the prairie, as if he could run from his failure, his haunting accusations.
At the top of a rise, four miles from town, he ran out of steam and sank to the ground, panting. Had he done something that caused his parents’ deaths? His mother’s death?
Why hadn’t he dropped Ellie and rushed to rescue Jane?
Was he doomed to be responsible for the death of loved ones all his life?
He sat staring across the undulating prairie, time and place forgotten. If only his thoughts would stop twisting and knotting. If only they made sense. Instead, words of blame and failure and fear tangled into a painful ball. It’s your fault. I can never keep anyone safe. I’ve failed. I’ll fail again in the future. He shuddered as the words reverberated through his brain. Why did he hear an echo of a voice not his own? Why did he feel sick inside?
Nearby a bird sang. Endlessly. As if mocking Emmet. Or trying to drive a message home. But what message?
Find the truth.
Right. He’d love to. But who could provide it?
Auntie May must know what happened and could perhaps explain why Emmet had such a sense of dread as he thought of his parents. He must talk to her.
Until he did he was stuck in this black vacuum, always feeling as if he couldn’t keep his loved ones safe. It was what made him turn from Louisa—knowing he couldn’t protect her from her pain.
He returned home. Ellie was up but wouldn’t talk to him, though she had plenty of dark glowers to share.
This was not a conversation he wanted Ellie to hear, fearing what he learned might confirm her feelings that he was to blame, so he waited until he was certain she was asleep. “Auntie May, can I ask you some questions?”
“Of course, my boy. Whatever you want.”
“Let’s go outside.”
She followed him out the door and sat on the bench. Right where Louisa had sat to tell him her terrible plight. He steeled himself to forget that moment.
Linda Ford - [Three Brides, Three Cowboys 02] Page 17