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Samuel circled the wagon up to the barn and dropped the reins.
Through the wide open doors, the sound of harsh sobbing plunged a pain deep in his chest. The children scrambled from the back of the wagon and entered the shadowy barn before he could stop them.
“Peggy, take them out of here!” He stepped into the cool interior and stopped short. Duncan hung over the top board of an empty stall, gripping it with his white-knuckled fingers, and sobbing in broken cries.
Stunned, Samuel didn’t know how to decipher what he saw. He had never seen Duncan cry as a child. He pushed Peggy and Phillip toward the barn door. He motioned to the white-faced girls, Anna and Josie.
“Go outside,” he murmured. He approached his red-haired brother. “Duncan?”
His brother choked back a sob. His beard was soaked with tears. “Papa.” He wiped a hand over his pale face and groaned. “He’s gone.”
“No!” Samuel turned and ran. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Peggy throw her arms around Josie and Phillip, but Anna stood ramrod straight.
His mother met him at the bedroom door. Her arms clasped his shaking body to her chest. “Son, it’s over. He’s at peace.” Her voice sounded unusually calm.
The floor tilted under him. He pulled away from her and stumbled to the bed. Jim was there, his face pressed into their papa’s open right hand.
“Papa?”
Jim muttered, “Brother, he’s gone.”
“No.” Samuel laid his hand on Papa’s chest. “I didn’t get to say goodbye.” Through a veil of tears, he saw the peaceful face. Gone were the deep lines of pain that had creased it.
“Samuel. Come here.”
He felt Jim’s arm come to rest along his quivering shoulders. He turned and clung to him. Though pain slashed his heart apart, he felt Peggy creep in and hug Jim’s waist. Their oldest brother stood strong and embraced them both. Never had Samuel’s world been so empty and destroyed.
Chapter 9
Ella moved past people clustered in Inez’s kitchen and slipped out to the covered dogtrot between the buildings. She paused at the top of the worn steps.
It was almost twilight, and the unusual heat of the day had cooled. The sky glowed with a blush of gold and pink. It feathered out along the visible tops of the rolling mountains. With a gasp of appreciation, she felt drawn to the gorgeous sight.
She made her way to the corral. Three workhorses occupied a rocky pasture and chewed at a pile of freshly cut grass. Behind her were eight or ten wagons, some with mules or horses still in their harnesses. Their outlines faded with the dusky light dipping between the mountains.
Attending Ephraim’s wake had brought back raw memories of her mama’s death.
She leaned against the top rail of a fence. Lord, why must death be a part of life?
“Are you all right?” A familiar voice spoke from the shadows.
“Duncan?”
Jim’s brother stepped away from the door of the dark barn. His eyes were still the cool green she remembered from childhood. A full red beard concealed much of his lower face, and he was hatless. His wild fiery hair hung long about his ears.
“I startled you.”
“No.” She tried to smile.
“That’s good to hear.” He smoothed the wooly texture of his hair.
“You weren’t inside.” She hadn’t seen him in years. He no longer resembled a slight-built teenage boy. Hefty muscles showed where his homespun shirt tightened on his upper body and arms.
Duncan rested his elbows on the top rail and stared at the shadowed horses milling around the feed. “I can’t bear the sad voices and repeated condolences. I’m sick of staring at Papa’s body and eating food at the same time. I felt I’d gag.”
“I hated that part of Mama’s wake.” Ella found it strange she’d actually grasp an instant connection to his private feelings.
He cleared his throat. “Years ago, I never said I was sorry for your suffering—at the time of your mother’s death.” He spoke without looking at her.
“No. You didn’t.” She raised her eyebrows and waited.
“Well, I’m sayin’ it now.” He laced his fingers together on top of the rail fence. “I’m clearing my conscience, asking for forgiveness. I was heartless.”
Her fingers tightened on the rough railing. “I still miss her.”
Beyond the fence, somewhere in the dusky edges of the field, a whip-poor-will sent out its signature call—its name. She knew the mottled-brown and elusive nighthawk would call during the first part of the evening and then go silent for the night. Ella loved its special call at dusk. But it would soon fly away and disappear for the winter.
On the porch, someone coughed. An arm hung a lantern, and the shadowed person went back inside.
Duncan bowed his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Papa thought of you as part of our family.”
“I’ll miss him.”
He took a deep breath. “I will, too. But Jim doesn’t believe it.” The shadows of the coming night darkened his features.
“Hmm, ‘cause you’re gone from the homestead so much?” She saw his eyes skitter away. The lantern’s beam highlighted their muted green color.
“Yup.” He swatted at an invisible mosquito. “There seems to be no one who understands me. I’m alone. I muddle through life, and yes, I’m gone for a year or more at a time. But don’t ever think I forget my family. I loved Papa. I’m glad I got back in time to talk to him before … before this. He was good. He stood by his strict beliefs.”
“He loved God.”
“Hmm. I chafed under his strictness, but it doesn’t mean I don’t believe in God. God created the uncharted wildernesses I travel through and places I get lost in—for months at a time. I feel close to God when I walk alone on a trail made by Indians or wild animals.” He paused. “Is that crazy?”
“Crazy?” She blinked and turned. His figure was a mere shadow in the fading light, but she could sense his proximity. “I su’pose I understand. If I were a man, I’d run away and see the world.”
“That true? Did Jim or Samuel tell you I went west—where mountains dwarf these?”
“No. I heard you were in the south, helpin’ with surveys.”
“Only one winter and spring with a surveying team. When the mosquitoes got bad, I scurried back to Georgia. I worked at a mine in Lumpkin County. I hated it and despised the greedy breed fighting for a piece of momentary wealth. The camp followers are skilled in fleecing the ragtag bunch of what gold is dug out of the mountains or panned in the creeks.”
“Well, I heard your name spoken durin’ talks of Florida.”
“Hmm, the Florida territory does fascinate me. It’s a challenge to those who explore it or settle near the swamps, piney woods, and flats. The warm waters and coastal areas surroundin’ it—Ella Dessa, I can’t begin to describe them. The tepid caress of its waters, the flocks of colorful birds, and extensive wildlife are too wonderful for mere words. A person needs to see it and touch it. I hoped to talk Papa into moving, but the dream’s gone.” He shifted his weight and faced the last reddish-gold hint of the sun, vanishing near the mountain’s peak.
She heard the pure exhilaration in his voice die to deep remorse. “Death doesn’t wait.”
“I know that full well.” He cleared his throat. “Can I call you ‘Ella’?”
“If you wish. Some do. Samuel always calls me ‘Ella Dessa’.”
Darkness enclosed them, with only the lantern’s faint beam reaching where they stood. The promised radiance of the rising moon lit the mountaintop on the other side of the cove, and she could make out filmy clouds drifting near it. Nearby insects began their night trills.
“The moon will be beautiful,” she said and sensed he came closer in the cool shadows. She heard the intake of his breath.
“Ella, I want to say something for your ears only. I need you to understand me as what I am—a changed man.”
“Why me?”
; “It’s something of our shared past. The day of your mother’s wake, I hiked up to your place, without my family knowin’. They were all sick in bed. A girl I was madly in love with was at your place. I was young—not like now. I feel ancient.”
“I know who you’re talkin’ about. You hurt her,” she whispered. “Don’t you know that? How is that love?”
“You fail to understand the way of a man … a boy, when the sight of a girl steals his heart and mind. Breaking her heart wasn’t my intention that day.”
“But you did.” Her eyes adjusted to the lantern’s yellow glow and the new silver light inching its way above the rugged heights.
“She promised to kiss me when we met. When she resisted—said, ‘no,’ it made me crazy. I had thought of kissing her for weeks. It was in my head she would, so I took the kiss she refused to give. I ruined everything with her. I lost her. You saw me force her to kiss me.” He went silent and then muttered, “Why am I standing here talking of this?”
“To ease your mind?”
“No, it’s to erase your dislike of me.”
“Duncan, I’ve no feelin’s either way. God’s the one you must talk to—if it’s guilt you feel. I hold nothin’ ag’inst you. It’s the past. Yes, you were relentless in gettin’ what you wanted—a kiss. It don’t matter today.” She changed the sticky subject by asking, “How long will you stay home this time?”
“Ahh—me, the constant wanderer?” He gave a low chuckle. “It’s the big question on Jim’s mind. Ella, I want to leave now. There’s a full moon rising over that mountain. I can see to travel through the cove. I want to go—”
“Where?”
“Who knows.”
“Don’t do it. Think of your mother. She needs all her children nearby … for a short time, at least.” The moon’s silver light inched its way above the rugged heights.
He faced her. “You’ve grown to be a charming young lady.”
A strange tingly feeling passed over her. She was shocked to realize his words pleased her. With a self-conscious laugh, she said, “Thank you. Everyone changes when a person stays away as long you have. You saw a difference in little Phillip?”
“Yes. He didn’t know me. That hurt, but it’s my fault.”
Someone—the solid figure of a young man—stepped out on the porch.
“Ella Dessa?”
“Yes.”
Samuel came to the steps. “Why are you out in the dark?”
She faced him. “I’m talkin’ with Duncan.”
“Duncan?”
Duncan moved into the lantern’s dull light. “Yes, Sam, I’m here with her.” He hooked his thumbs in his belt and waited.
“How ‘bout helping me start a fire in the cooking pit? Got to have some nice coals. We’re roasting a pig for tomorrow afternoon.” A tight note of agitation laced his voice.
“What pig? We butchering one tonight?”
“No, Sophie’s father slaughtered one and brought it up from his place.”
Duncan’s hand touched Ella’s right shoulder and slowly slid to her elbow. “I’ll walk you to the steps. Thanks for listening.”
“It was nice talkin’ to you.”
They moved to the porch. Samuel waited with arms crossed. At his feet was an iron pot with glowing coals nestled within its blackened sides. Ella lifted her skirt free of the steps and climbed them.
“Samuel, come on. I’ll stack the wood.” Duncan headed for the fire pit, where their mother did outdoor cooking during the summer.
“Ella Dessa?”
She paused and looked over her shoulder at Samuel. “Yes?” The rising moon lit his face. His eyes appeared light gray—not bluish green—in the silvery illumination.
“Will you sit with me later, when Leigh says a few words?”
“Yes, of course.”
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“Here’s the coals,” Samuel muttered. He grabbed the cloth-wrapped handle of the iron pot and made his way to the dark fire pit. His brother’s shadow crouched before a wide stack of cut wood. “Got lighter knot?”
“Yes. I placed it.” Duncan’s bearded face showed in the lantern’s light. He crammed a wad of dried grass and moss under slivers of pine. “Give me the coals.” With one quick movement, he dumped them against the grass, and bent forward to blow on them. He wedged more tinder and grass close to the coals and flames shot up, accompanied by a twirl of smoke. There was a muffled poof, and orange blades of fire caught on twigs nestled within the mixture.
Duncan sat back on his heels and gazed up at him. “Whatcha think?”
“You haven’t lost your touch,” he reluctantly admitted.
“Can’t afford to—I’d die out in the wilds. Fire gives warmth. Keeps wild animals at bay.” He laid a skinny pine limb over the crackling flames.
“What were you talking to her about?”
Duncan rose to his feet. “Hmm, do I hear some jealousy in your voice, little brother?”
“Shocked me to find her out here with you.”
“Ahh, Sam. You’re thinking of my flawed past? Only an idiot repeats his mistakes.”
Samuel’s instincts told him something was afoot—his redheaded brother had decided to kindle a fire, but it wasn’t the fire blazing in front of them. Jealousy made him say, “You need to stay away from her.”
“Oh?” Duncan leaned a little closer. “Sam, I never heard there was a match made ‘tween you and Ella. Is there?”
Samuel gritted his teeth. “We’re more than friends.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“Well, little brother, I don’t intend to take what you long for. I saw your eyes watching her earlier today. I think you’ve loved her since we first saw that dirty-faced child on the mountain.” He laid a hand on Samuel’s shoulder. “Yes, she has turned into a stunning young woman. Tempting. Just keep this in mind, the man she falls in love with—is the only man she should marry.” He stepped away. “See you inside.”
Samuel’s gut twisted, and smoke blew in his eyes. He had the impression there was a twanging rope vibrating inside his body. He wanted to run after Duncan, tackle him, and prevent him from going up the steps into the large room where their papa’s body was on display. He knew Ella Dessa would be in the same room.
Why’d he come home? Why? He didn’t care nothing about Papa.
Samuel kicked dirt at the fire. Somewhere in the dark, he heard the high-pitched squeal of a rabbit. His heart skipped a beat at the agonized sound. A predator had seized its supper and ended a life. Tears coursed his cheeks as his thoughts jumped back to his papa. The yoke of their family was gone—the wide piece of wood, shaped for durance. Their male parent had kept them together as a team. Now Papa had passed into eternity. Life wouldn’t be the same.
Deep, awful sobs rose in his chest, but the sound of running feet and the rustle of a skirt made him turn. Familiar arms wrapped around his neck and hugged him.
“Oh, Samuel, my friend, I knew you were hurtin’. I had to come back.” Ella Dessa laid her warm cheek against his.
Chapter 10
Friday September 4, 1840
Through the rippling leaves of a maple, Ella caught a brief glimpse of the old mule’s roan-colored hide. She stood in the trail and whistled to Deer. The morning sun had enough strength to reveal the hazy mountaintops. The air still contained a sharp chill, so she tugged her shawl tight across her chest.
Samuel appeared, leading the pack mule by a rope. The animal was loaded with bundles and bulky sacks. The stock of an old gun showed, poking from the packages.
“Did you buy all Walter’s goods?”
“What you doing up here?” His cheerless face lit up at the sight of her. “Walter said you took the day off ‘cause school starts Monday. Something about helping Velma sew shirts for the boys.”
“She let me go. I’ve been waitin’. You’re as slow as syrup on a cold spring morn’.” She grinned at him. “I wanted to go see Peggy. I’m so excited about her studyin’ at school
, ’stead of home. Agatha said you left the store with supplies, so I thought I’d head you off.”
“I might have to stay out of school ‘til the crops are in.”
“Ah, Master Konrad said as much. Some of the other boys’ll be in the fields, also.”
Deer ran a circle around the mule and trotted on up the trail. His nose never left the ground as he gathered the scents left by creatures of the forest.
Ella fell into step with Samuel. “How’s your mother?”
“Ahh, she’s bearing up.” He shrugged and stared at the rocky path under their feet.
“And the others?”
“Josie has crying spells—near ‘bout evening meal. I dream of Papa ’most every night. Peggy’s more irritating. Anna glares at everyone.”
“I saw Grace. She says the babies make sure she don’t dwell on things.”
“Hmm, I keep busy, even if it’s just sawing logs.”
“And Jim?”
“He acts like he’s angry at the world … or me.”
“Oh?” she murmured. “What’ve you done?”
“Not enough.”
“Could it be Jim feels he’s carryin’ the family’s burdens? He reins in his emotions.”
“What?” He looked puzzled.
“Jim has to be angry at somethin’. He cain’t bring your papa back. He’s hurt inside but doesn’t tell you. He’s not lettin’ God be God. He’s tryin’ his best to be a rock for your family.”
“Wow.” He stared at her. “How can you make me understand?”
“I sometimes think I read people—like a book.”
“Hmm, what about Duncan?”
“He’s like a feather in the wind—here an’ high today—floatin’ free tomorrow. He runs from closeness.”
He nodded. “He makes Jim crazy.”
“Always has.”
“You got the web untangled.” He chuckled. “I’m surprised Duncan stayed with us this long. Last night he talked of the Florida Territory and the huge knobby creatures—alligators. He says their tail’s good eatin’. Anna jumped up and ran out of the room when he commenced to relate how he sliced the tail off one.”
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