Within the Candle's Glow

by Karen Campbell Prough

  “So, when’s the wedding date?”

  “September nineteenth. His sixty-first birthday.”

  “He sure loves her.” Samuel paused to sample another handful of berries. “Hmm. I can’t pick and eat, too.”

  Ella saw his eyes travel over the nearby rocks.

  “What you lookin’ for?”

  “Where’d Fuzzy Mutt go?”

  She pointed. “He’s beside that boulder. See him? He’ll spend his time nappin’.”

  “Got to keep an eye on him. We could lose him. He is too little to survive a night here. There’s rattlers in the rocks, plus some mountain lion could snag him for supper.”

  “Ugh.” She shuddered. Images from the past flashed into her mind—tan fur, pointed fangs, and amber eyes. “Don’t talk like that.” She returned to picking berries from a chest-high bush. “I still get awful nightmares of that creature knockin’ me down.” She stared at a blueberry on the bush and bit down on her bottom lip. With determination, she forced herself to stay focused and not start searching for an imagined creature lurking above them on the irregular gray rocks.

  “Can you remember all of it?”

  “Yes, I was ten. Pa and I were by the creek. He made me help clear away a deadfall so he could pan for gold. Then he went into the woods—for a short time. I went out on a rock near the rushin’ water. The painter—panther came from a rocky outcroppin’ above me. I saw him jump. It was like everythin’ moved slow. I couldn’t run.”

  “Must’ve been awful.” He stood staring at her, hands idle at his sides. “I never had the courage to ask you what happened. But I heard it from others.”

  She lifted her chin and forced a smile. “I can talk ‘bout it now.”

  “I always thought it was incredible you lived. God was there.”

  “Yes.” She shuddered. “I felt its body slammin’ into me. I landed half in the creek. My head hit a rock. Cold water splashed over my face. I tasted bloody water washin’ in my mouth. From underwater, I heard the gun. But I still don’t remember no pain. Not right then, anyway. The pain came—when Pa lifted me from the creek. I was gaspin’ for air.”

  “Was the cat dead?”

  “Floatin’ on its side. One open eye ’bove water. Its body bobbed,” she motioned a circle with her finger, “turned in a lazy, bloodstained pool ’tween two rocks and drifted away. Pa let it go without claimin’ its hide.”

  “I don’t blame him.”

  “He said it were too scrawny and young, that I were lucky it hadn’t been a big one.” Waves of apprehension caused her to lift her head and stare upward. The craggy rocks on the slope jutted forth—balanced against the forces of nature—a perfect perch for a camouflaged tan beast. “The claws scarred me for life. Granny said infection did the worst to me.”

  “I’ve never minded the scars.”

  Surprised, Ella hesitated and fingered her bumpy neck. “Never?”

  “Never.” His honest eyes reflected the green foliage and a subtle hint of the blue sky.

  “I figgerd most people still stare at ‘em.” Josh did, she thought.

  “No.” He playfully tossed a berry in her direction.

  Ella pretended she didn’t see it hit her skirt. She wanted to ask him if he thought Jim ever noticed her scars, but she realized it’d cause a wet blanket to descend on their berry gathering. When she talked too much about Jim, Samuel got grouchy.

  “I heard your brother, Duncan, came home.” She changed the subject, curious about Samuel’s roving, red-haired brother.

  “Yep. Showed up on the bottomland while we were working a fence. He hasn’t changed none, but we were happy to see him. He and Papa had their first argument this morning. Papa wanted him to promise to stay through the winter. He went out—slammed the door. He even swore.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “You ought to see him. He’s got a red beard and heavy mustache. He looks older to me—thinner and harsher. He turns twenty this month.”

  “I wouldn’t know what to say to him. Years ago, I don’t think he ever liked me.”

  “He does like you. Duncan’s a loner.”

  They picked without talking. The light breeze, rustling through the tree branches, had a soothing sound. The sunlight warmed the slope. The twitter of gnatcatchers accompanied the birds’ swift movements among the leafy bushes.

  Ella glanced at the little dog. The puppy slept, his short legs paddling back and forth as if he were running. It was likely a doggy dream, taking him on a rabbit trail.

  With a full heart, she stepped closer to Samuel. “Thanks for givin’ the puppy to me. He’s grown so much since I saw him at your place. His stubby legs are longer.”

  “I wanted to give him to you earlier, but Papa kept saying it’d be a burden to Velma. Now, she’s getting married. And she’s got gold.” He grinned. “You have to choose a name. I think ‘Fuzzy Mutt’ is good.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re bein’ silly. I thought of ‘Deer.’”

  “‘Deer’? Now who’s silly?”

  “He’s the color of a deer.” She stuffed more berries in her mouth and wrinkled her nose at him. “And he’s kinda endearin’.”

  “Oh, no.” Samuel slapped a berry-stained hand to his forehead. “I can hear you calling him. Here, Deer. Come here, Deer!”

  Laughing, she tossed a handful of berries at him. “Don’t make fun of my puppy’s name.”

  “Hey!” He reached into his basket and lobbed a fistful of juicy berries. They pelted her face and hair. “Gotcha.”

  “That wasn’t fair. You used more than me.” Snatching a whole handful out of her basket, she drew back her arm, and slung them. “Oops!” Bluish-purple juice speckled Samuel’s face. Berries stuck in his hair above his left ear.

  “Ugh.” He dug through his hair, pulled the berries out, and held up his purple- and red-tinted fingers. “See these?”

  Shaking with laughter, she nodded. “You ought to wash more often.”

  “I do wash.” He stepped over his basket and sauntered toward her. A glint of revenge sparked in his fun-loving eyes. “Let me see your berries.”

  “What? My berries?” Puzzled and wary, she lifted her basket for his inspection—keeping the basket between them.

  He shoved his hand into the woven grapevine basket and came up with a handful. “These are nice.”

  Backing away, she waved a hand. “Samuel, don’t do somethin’ you’ll regret. After all, we’re best friends.”

  Samuel dove and grabbed her arm. With his other hand, he smeared the squishy berries all over her face. Juice dripped to her white blouse. Sputtering, she fought free and ran, but her boot caught on a branch sticking out in the way. She tumbled sideways and ended up sitting on her bottom under waist-high bushes. Her basket landed beside her.

  “You’re a rat,” she groaned, wiped at her face, and righted her basket. “Look, you dumped my berries.” She pulled at her skirt, in order to arrange the material over her lower legs. “Ugh,” She pushed at the limbs in her face. “My skirt’s so tangled I cain’t stand.”

  “Are you hurt? Let me help you.” Samuel shoved into the bushes and offered his dirty hand. An amused grin lit his handsome face. “You sure are a mess. Want to continue this war?”

  “War?” She licked her lips, tasting the sweet juice on them. “No. Wipe the smile off your face.”

  He compressed his lips into a straight line and presented his hand one more time. “Truce. Let me help you.”

  She grasped his hand, jerked on it, and stood. But she immediately bent to snatch berries from her basket.

  “Ah, no.” He blocked her movement with his right knee and leg. A hint of a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Ella Dessa, you have revenge written all over your face.”

  She tipped her chin up and glared at him. “My berries got spilled.”

  He studied her dirty face and chuckled. “If you could see your face …” With his finger, he traced a stain across her cheek and nose.


  Her lips parted, but Ella couldn’t move. The startling caress of his finger made her tremble.

  “You have blue streaks here … here … and here. Pink, purple, and blue all mixed. Even on your mouth.” His eyes lingered over her lips, but his hand moved to her neck.

  “Sam.” Her heart hammered against her ribs, and her breath quickened. She observed changes on his berry-stained face as he traced the scars on her neck. She tried stepping away from him. “Don’t.”

  “No.” He shushed her with one blue finger against her lips. Bending, he pressed his lips to the scars showing on her neck.

  She gasped in reaction to the intense feelings engulfing her. “Samuel, stop.” She pushed at his wide chest, conscious of their closeness, fully aware of how tall he had become that summer.

  His arms encircled her back. “Ella Dessa.” He murmured her name with a note of awe and pulled her closer. His young lips met hers.

  The trees spun around her. She clung to his shirt and twisted her fingers in the fabric to keep from falling. She hadn’t been prepared for the sensations erupting at the tender touch of his mouth. Ella tried to cry out, but her breath came as a moan. Her arms willingly encircled his neck. She returned the sweetness of his kiss.

  Then he lifted his lips from hers.

  Letting go, Samuel stepped back, astonishment registering in his eyes. “I … I didn’t mean for that to happen.” He walked away, seized his basket from under the bushes, and ran a berry-stained hand through his hair. “Don’t know what got into me.”

  She pressed her hands against her cheeks. “I lost my basket,” she whispered.

  He came toward her.

  “No, stay away.” She kept her head down and searched for the basket amongst the broken branches. Her heart rate slowed as her hand made contact with the handle. She snatched it from the ground.

  “Ella Dessa?”

  Biting down on her bottom lip, she hurried some distance from Samuel before she dared speak. She couldn’t keep silent, and it wasn’t her nature to ignore the obvious. Their world had tipped sideways.

  “We best pick berries,” she said.

  “Yeah,” he muttered. “A perfect idea.”

  From the corner of her eye, she noticed his hands shook as he reached for the fruit. It amazed her to realize the kiss also affected him. She struggled with the truth—the truth that she longed to slip back into his arms and let him kiss her, one more time. But she made herself turn away.

  Deer got up and trotted to her, crawled under the bushes, and chewed at twigs near her feet. He mouthed fallen berries and shook his head.

  Her mind went over and over the kiss, revisiting the wild reaction that had enveloped her. Never in her life had such a powerful awareness infused every fiber of her body. She blushed once more at the remembrance of Samuel’s gentle lips on her neck. She wanted to say more to him, but she didn’t trust herself to approach him. He might see what mixture of thoughts tumbled through her mind—the acute longing to feel his touch and to kiss him one more time.

  How can anythin’ ever be the same? Shouldn’t I be angry? She rubbed at tears on her cheek. The skin on her neck still tingled where his lips had lain. Why’d he do that? He kissed my neck—my scars. They didn’t bother him. Pushing through the bushes, she worked her way further from him, until her basket overflowed.

  Deer kept pace with her. His pink tongue hung from his mouth as he panted and stared up at her. Blinking his brown-and-gold eyes, he sat and voiced his feelings in tiny whimpers. Ella figured he needed a drink, and the stream was below them. They had passed it while hiking. She could hear the faint sound of it tumbling over rocks and gurgling around boulders.

  Even though she hadn’t decided how to act around Samuel, she tentatively ventured toward him.

  “Deer needs a drink.”

  He avoided her eyes and nodded. “My basket’s full.”

  “Mine, too. See?” She held it high and hoped he’d look her way.

  Deer acted as if he thought it was a container of water. He stood on his hind legs, with his eyes on the basket, and pawed at her dirty skirt.

  “Ella Dessa, I—”

  A muted woofing sound drew their instantaneous attention. Ella’s stomach knotted in terror. She swung toward the noise, recognizing it, but not quite comprehending the significance. She still dangled the basket out in front of her.

  “Ella, freeze!” Samuel spoke from behind her, and his left hand gripped her waist. He hissed two words through clenched teeth. “Don’t—move.”

  She reached back, and her fingers closed upon the hand tightening on her waistline.

  A medium-size black bear rested on its sturdy haunches no more than sixty feet away. It sniffed the air, lifted its nose, and turned its head from side to side.

  Deer whined.

  The bear froze in position, its small eyes trained on them.

  “Oh, God, save us,” Samuel prayed through stiff lips. He drew her against him, so she felt his chest move with each rapid intake of breath. “Shut up, Fuzzy Mutt!”

  Ella clenched her teeth to stop any noise she might accidently make. Her right arm ached from holding the basket in one position. Under the greenery, Deer gave a short yip.

  The bear made a grunting woof noise and dropped to all fours. Its head swung back and forth. The movement rustled the undergrowth and added urgency to the situation.

  Samuel squatted on his boot heels, jerked Ella down with him, and abandoned his basket to the forest floor.

  She collapsed on the rough ground and fell back against his knees.

  “Shh! Quiet.” His fingers covered her mouth, stifling any noise.

  She nodded, searching his face for an answer to their plight.

  Samuel removed his hand from her lips. He snatched up Deer, raised his stained muslin shirt, and stuffed the protesting animal under it—against his bare white chest and flat stomach.

  “I’m—shakin’.” She couldn’t control the quaking of her limbs. Her hand felt sweaty where it gripped the handle of her basket. “What’s it doin’?”

  He jammed a finger against his pale lips. “Shh.”

  She nodded, eyes glued to his messy face. She waited for him to tell her what to do, but her body yearned to leap and run.

  There was a racket and a crashing movement in the underbrush to the right.

  “He’s moving!” With his free hand, Samuel seized her right arm and pulled her closer to his side and knees.

  She willingly sought refuge against him. “We gotta run!”

  Samuel’s other hand supported the squirmy puppy, hidden in his shirt. He brushed her hair away from her ear and leaned in.

  “When we stand up, walk backwards real slow to that huge boulder—near the trail.” His lips and breath tickled her ear. He spoke through clenched teeth. “Don’t run, don’t talk, face it, and don’t stop for me. When you reach the down side of the boulder—turn and run.”

  “But—” she whimpered.

  His fingers squeezed her arm. “Listen!” He pressed his warm lips against her ear. “It’s an immature bear. I’m counting on it being somewhat fearful of us and praying it’s only hungry for berries, not humans or dogs. It’s not attacking right now. But it might.”

  She inhaled and stared at him. It’ll chase me, she mouthed.

  He cupped her chin. “Look at me. Ella Dessa, it might pretend to rush you. If it does, raise your arms, stomp your feet, and yell or scream. Make it fearful of you. Understand?”

  “But you—what if—” She clamped her fingers on his forearm.

  “No ifs.” His rapid hot breaths fanned against her face. “I got the mutt. Just don’t look back. I’ll follow.” He poked her side. “Stand together—count of three.”

  With one motion, they rose from the undergrowth. Her fingers snatched at Samuel’s shirt. She could feel his ribs expand with each breath. The shoulders of the bear showed over the leafy greenery as it munched and tore at the berries covering the bushes—all the while ignori
ng them. Samuel shoved and waved her behind him. His ashen lips formed the word—go.

  A stab of instant anger at the bear’s intrusion challenged her fears of an awful mauling and the agony of death. Not willing to leave the picked berries behind for the bear, she bent and gripped both baskets.

  Samuel’s left hand punched her right shoulder. His face went pale, because of her actions. She obediently stepped backward, twisting around to see if the way was clear. The shrubbery rattled and cracked.

  The bear stood on its hind legs, a massive image of muscle and rippling fur.

  An unbidden moan escaped her lips and dry throat. She wanted to scream Samuel’s name and run to him. But she clamped her tongue between her teeth and continued to move in a jerky fashion.

  Samuel remained shock still, both of his arms wrapped around his midsection, cradling the dog. Suddenly, Deer whimpered and squirmed against the arms confining him. His protests escalated to muffled yelps. The young bear gave a loud woof, crashed through some of the plants, and faked a charge at Samuel—in a pretend show of aggression. Its shiny black fur undulated along its back.

  Ella moaned in fear.

  Samuel never budged. The bear reared to full height. Its beady eyes focused on the human figure in front of him. Samuel hissed his order.

  “Go!”

  She crept backward, expecting the bear to charge. When her hips touched the boulder, she ducked around its gray side. She spun in a half circle and ran. The baskets bounced against her thighs, pumping blueberries into the air. The rocky trail blurred before her.

  She stumbled. Her feet slid on the descent of the trail, unable to continue the reckless pace. With a sob of defeat, she lunged sideways and crouched in a hollow under a massive rock. She dropped the baskets, crammed her fists against her lips, and let silent sobs jar her whole body.

  Chapter 7

  The sound of a rock rolling near her hiding place caused Ella to cringe, bite into her cheeks, and block a scream. Then Samuel jogged past with Deer clutched under his right arm.

  “Samuel!” She scooted from under the balanced rocks and dragged the two baskets with her.