“This is fun. Shall we go back and try a second time? I can turn her ‘round right here. I sure loved the hugs.”
“Duncan, look out!” A tree limb threatened to upset them. With eyes scrunched, she willingly hugged him, her face against his shoulder. “No, no!” Unexpectedly, she laughed with him. His unpretentious personality struck her as easy to accept. He wasn’t going to expect perfection from her.
She spoke near his ear. “Duncan, you’re the opposite of Jim. He takes no chances.”
“My dear, you said a mouthful there. He and I have butted heads since I could walk. We pull in different directions—like a mismatched team of elderly mules.”
“I bet you can be as single-minded as a pair of jays announcin’ a snake’s presence.”
“Yes’um, but Jim considers himself the trailbreaker in the family. He tries too hard to keep everythin’ and everyone in line. Now, girl, don’t take me wrong, I love my big brother. But he sure can get my back up—rile me like a wet polecat. He’s happier when I’m gone. He won’t admit it. I hear he stomps around cussin’ me.”
“Jim don’t cuss. Maybe, he misses your fights or envies your freedom.”
“Hmm, could be, sister.” His voice hinted at a smile. “We relax and act like brothers who love each other when we go hikin’.”
“You hain’t done that since I remember.”
“Nope. In the past, it was great. Away from home, things would change. We always fell into a peaceful existence. I led. He followed. Sometimes, we panned for gold in the creeks.” He chuckled. “Wild hikes in the snow were the best. If an unusual deep snow hit, we’d fill up a couple of those packs Papa made out of leather, and we’d disappear off on some trail without Mother’s blessing—only her tears.”
“Weren’t you afraid?”
“Naw, we even stayed with Indians one time when the snow didn’t let up. They had a snug little farm. I was thirteen. That was before they dragged the Indians out of these hills.”
Duncan got quiet.
Ella leaned her chin against his back and relaxed into the swaying gait of the horse. “We had an Indian friend who brung Mama blackberries. I remember the blue feather he wore.”
“Yes, Blue Feather,” Duncan whispered in awe.
“I adored his wife. Her hands smelled like herbs.” She sighed. “You know some of the Indians didn’t leave. They hid.”
“I wouldn’t breathe a word ‘bout what I know.”
She rested her forehead on his back. “Then you know what I know.” Somewhere, in the deep forest above them, Blue Feather and his small family hid and hopefully survived.
“Yes, perhaps. We don’t speak of it—even in these seemingly empty woods.”
They were silent during the last stretch of overgrown trail. The dark-brown horse fought through the brush and stepped out on the eastward trail leading to the store.
“Take the right fork. I need to go home. Velma and Walter are tyin’ the knot tomorrow. I’m finishin’ the hem on her dress tonight.” She sat up straight and dropped her arms from his waist.
He hunched his shoulders and sighed. “It’s been enjoyable talking to you.”
She tried to analyze the sadness in his deep voice. “Yes—more fun than I thought it’d be.”
He chuckled. “My bad reputation will never be wiped clean. It’s like a broken slate. No forgiveness here in the cove and clear down to Auraria, south of here. I owe a gold mine owner some money. That’s why I must run away and see what adventure I can find in the Florida territory of swamps.”
“Hmm. Duncan, you don’t want to live here?”
“No.” He brought the horse to a stop by Velma’s cabin. “You hain’t seen Florida or the ocean, yet.”
“Yet?”
“I got a feeling you’ll step foot on her sandy soil some time in your life.” He reached back and clasped her arm as she slid off the horse. Releasing his hold on her, Duncan dismounted and accompanied her to the door. Deer ran up and plopped himself under a bush, his sides shaking with exhausted panting.
“I’m not sure when I’ll see you again.” He cupped his callused fingers under her chin. His tantalizing green eyes gazed at her, while the corner of his mouth formed a slight smile. “You be good, little Ella Dessa. Be kind to my poor brothers. Don’t make them suffer unduly.” He winked. “A duel doesn’t come out well in the end.”
She pulled her chin out of his hand and felt heat in her face. “I don’t understand that remark.”
He tapped her on the nose and chuckled. “Keep it for future reference. I’m sure we’ll cross paths in the upcomin’ months or years.”
As he stepped back and turned to go, Ella dared ask him, “Am I sensin’ somethin’? Does that mean you’re leavin’ Beckler’s Cove—soon?”
Before replying, he gathered the reins and mounted. “Beautiful girl, I won’t say as I can answer that.” His red hair caught the sun’s rays and flamed with color.
“Then God be with you.”
“I pray so. I truly do.” Duncan gave her a lonely smile. “No matter what my family thinks, I listen for God’s voice. I just don’t sit in a house or a building and wait to hear. I travel where God walks in the cool of the evening.” He lifted one hand in farewell.
A cord of sadness made her tremble for his well-being. She watched him ride away, his upper body and squared shoulders moving in rhythm with the horse’s gait. What made a man a drifter? What inner passion tugged him away from home and family?
Chapter 11
Saturday, September 19, 1840
Ella smiled as she swept a clump of reddish clay out the back door of the store. She paused, leaned on the broom handle, and stared up at the fall colors beginning to decorate the rolling tops of the tree-covered mountains. An early frost had nipped the higher elevations.
A happy sigh whispered past her lips as she remembered Velma and Walter’s wedding two weeks before. It had been a simple affair, performed outside on the grassy slope behind the store. Velma had been a radiant bride in a dark-navy dress, blushing when Walter’s adoring glances caught her eye.
After going through the heartfelt sorrow of Ephraim’s unexpected passing, the brief outdoor wedding had brought a touch of normalcy to the cove. Borrowed benches occupied a semicircle around the bride and groom. Leigh stood on a weather-scoured rock and performed the ceremony. The temperature had turned out perfect for a fall wedding, and everyone enjoyed the simple refreshments Ella prepared and set out on the long platform of the store. Leona loaned her two china bowls so she could serve warm cider to the guests.
Samuel had insisted on helping Ella, which shifted her mind away from the fact Jim rode over to the Wald homestead to pick up Sophie. Samuel then won her appreciation by riding to homes in the cove, asking to borrow their benches. He also gained her attention by whispering how pretty she looked in a new skirt she had sewn for the wedding.
“It’s unbelievable how women cut material into crazy shapes, sew the pieces side by side, and make a shirt, dress, or skirt.”
She had fanned out the folds of her dark-green skirt. “Samuel, it’s not hard. I cut the length I need, which is four times my width. I fold a narrow band to fit my waist an’ gather the skirt part to it. Oh, I leave an openin’ on the side, so I can slip it on. Fixed a buttonhole. Sewed on a wooden button. It’s easy.”
“Easy?” Samuel had stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “That’s confusing. I now see why Peggy hates sewing, mending, and spinning.”
“Peggy’d rather cook. I’m sure I could teach you to sew.”
“No thanks,” he had blurted out, backing away from her. “I’d rather run a trap line in the dead of winter—with ice covering the trees.”
“Hmm, I know how much you hate settin’ traps.”
What do I feel for Samuel? Ella stood still with the broom in her hands. Could we fall in love? She was so comfortable with him. They understood one another and often perceived what the other would say or do. Yes, she loved Samuel. Sh
e wasn’t in love with him.
Footsteps broke into her thoughts. Carrie came up the platform steps. “Sorry I’m late walkin’ over. Mama had me help her carve the last slab of venison from the deer Walter shot.”
“That’s all right.” She set the broom behind the counter, keeping the straw head upward so it wouldn’t bend out of shape. Her actions also protected it from Victor, Walter’s black cat. The cat loved to chew on the stiff dried bristles and throw up all over the wood floor. “We’re suppose’ to finish sortin’ the new goods stacked here behind the counter.”
“I’ll do it. Deer got into a basket of corn in the garden earlier and chewed on a bunch of freshly picked cobs. Mama chased him with the broom.”
“Oh my, the last I saw, he was under the porch. I’ll go catch him and lock him in the barn.”
“He hid under Walter’s corncrib.” Carrie grinned. “He’s smart.”
“I hope Walter don’t get upset ‘bout my dog. I’ll hurry back.”
After the wedding, Walter had moved all of them into his spacious house behind the store. It was handy to live close by because Carrie could help in the store on Saturdays. And Ella relieved Walter every afternoon, which gave him a few hours to hunt or do repairs.
#
When Ella returned to the store, Carrie’s face appeared the color of parchment, and her hands shook.
“That man wants to talk to you.” She pointed at Josh standing near the leather goods. “I don’t like him,” she whispered. “He reminds me of my dead pappy—a bad man.”
“Josh? When’d you come back?” She walked closer, noting his ragged coat and the leanness of his tall frame. He had gained his strength while living with the Chesley family for two weeks and then disappeared without a word of thanks to anyone.
“Three days ago.” He squatted on boot heels and examined a stack of cut leather on the bottom shelf. “I seen you from a distance, once or twice.” His broken fingernails were stained with dirt. “Had to come back.”
“Had to?” She started to ask him where he had been, but thought better of it.
“Why do you sound angry?” Josh stood, laid a foot square piece of cured leather on the top shelf and faced her. His tattered hat hung by a thin rope around his neck. His heavy lidded, brown eyes traveled over her face, as if searching for an answer.
She held herself rigid, ignored his direct question, and replied, “Josh, no one understood when you up an’ left. Are you feelin’ better?”
He shrugged.
“Carrie said you want to speak to me?”
“Yes. I been gone a bit over three months.” He plucked some straw from her hair, opened his dirty fingers, and let it flutter to the worn boards at their feet. His black eyes followed it and then flashed back to her face. “Straw in your hair? Whatcha been doin’? Rollin’ in the hay?”
“I had to get my dog out from under the corncrib.” Annoyed at his question, she smoothed her hair, tucking in loose ends. “Are you lookin’ for a certain item?”
“No.” He towered over her and leaned closer.
She backed away. “Then I’ll go help Carrie.”
His lanky, six-foot height intimidated her. There was a new coarseness in his eyes.
“Wait. Came to tell you Miles got me to help him build stalls this week—since the barn raisin’s done. I been ‘round—just ain’t come to visit.” He cleared his throat, and the tip of his tongue slid over chapped lips. “Ore ain’t plentiful no more. Findin’ gold is harder. I aim to settle here. Not leave.”
“That’s … nice.” She tried to back up, but the shelves put a stop to the attempt. His proximity smothered her. The odor of his unwashed body disgusted her.
“Miles does things back’rds in my sight. He tolt me he put up the barn first—to store things for their new house.”
“And for the new school,” she added. “He’s ordered a shipment to be brought by wagon from Terminus.”
“He’s rich … eh?”
“Cain’t say as I know ‘bout that. It’s his business.”
Josh’s eyes narrowed, but then he said, “Miles an’ his wife plan a barn dance—as a thanks to the menfolks—sometime in October.” He paused. His narrowed eyes searched her face. “It’ll be fun.”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Something told her where the discussion would lead. The edges of the wood shelves dug into her waist and back. “Josh, I must go help Carrie.”
“Ella Des … sa.” Josh drew out the syllables in her name. “I come to ask you to the dance.”
“I’m sorry. I must say no.” She slid sideways and gained the open space at the end of the aisle.
“You ain’t goin’ with nobody else, ‘cause you ain’t known of it ‘til, now. I’m the first to ask.”
“It’s still no.” She felt sick to her stomach.
His beardless jaw tightened. “I see things changed for Velma.” He raised his thick brows. “She’s got herself hitched. Courtin’ was fast. Did he know she were rich?”
“Velma an’ Walter are happy. She’ll forever be grateful for the gold.” She wanted him to leave and was on the verge of telling him. She now understood Carrie’s colorless face. Josh’s whole demeanor was different from when he was recovering at Naomi’s house.
He shoved past her and stopped by the front door. He accidently kicked the rock holding it open and nudged it back into place with the toe of his dirty boot. Dried red clay streaked the floor.
“Ella … Dessa, I reckon you might change yer mind ‘fore time of the dance. You won’t be goin’ with no one else.”
Before she could process the threat in his words, he was gone. She turned on her heels and caught sight of Carrie.
“Did you hear him?” Ella whispered.
“He’s got meanness in him.” Carrie slipped around the counter. “It’s hidden. Be aware of the likeness to a rat’ler. Don’t let him touch you.”
“I won’t.” She frowned. “Is it foolish to say I feel there’s a bug crawlin’ up my back? Did he threaten me?”
“I think so.” Carrie’s light-hazel eyes filled with a hint of alarm.
“Well, I won’t egg on his attention. That’ll take care of it.” She lifted her chin and walked around the counter. “We’ve work to do.”
“Josh kept proddin’ me with questions ‘fore you came.”
“Like what?”
“Like, if you liked anyone special, an’ if Samuel hung around. Should we tell Walter?”
“What can he do? Josh causes you and me to feel uneasy. How would you explain it to someone?” She picked up a feather duster. “We’re both actin’ silly. We’ve got shelves to clean.”
The thud of heavy boots on the front steps caused her to expect Josh.
But it was Jim entering the store. His smoky gray eyes still reflected grief caused by his father’s death. But it was the tightness in his expression that made Ella catch her breath.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m in need of someone who’ll listen to me.” He placed his hands on the counter and leaned forward. “That person is you. I won’t take much of your time. Then I’ll go on up the mountain to my duties.”
She beckoned to Carrie. “I must step out for a few minutes. Can you let Walter know when he comes in?”
“Yes.” Carrie gave Jim a timid smile.
“Jim, let’s climb the slope behind the store.” Ella lifted her woolen shawl from a wall peg. “Walter built a nice bench up there.” She loved the idea of being with him but felt deeply puzzled by his gruff demeanor.
Why didn’t he talk to Sophie?
He opened the back door for her and shoved his hat into place. His fingers pleated a crease in the crown. Neither of them spoke as they hiked the footpath Walter cleared for his new wife. The path ended at a narrow bench, situated where Velma could slip away from household chores and sit in peace and quiet.
Cooler air brushed Ella’s cheek and swirled away to make the leaves flutter on nearby trees. The scent of dried foliage rode
on the wind.
She sat on the bench and tightened the brown shawl about her shoulders. An opening in the canopy of trees let the sun brighten the spot, and she appreciated the direct warmth. Jim ignored the bench and paced. His boots kicked and disturbed the forest floor.
“Jim, what’s wrong?”
“Your mother died. So I figured you’d understand some of what I’m going through. I miss Papa so much I feel like I’m in agony.”
His deep voice quivered, reminding her of an injured child.
“Jim, I don’t have words to ease that type of pain. It all takes time.”
He sat near her on the bench, knocked his hat to the ground, and leaned forward—elbows on knees. His next words were muffled.
“What?” She placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Talk to me. I’ll listen.”
With a groan, he hunched his shoulders.
“I didn’t hear you.” Her cheek touched the shirt covering his muscular shoulder. “Say it ag’in.”
He jumped to his feet and faced her. “I’m angry. I’m mad at God for taking Papa. I hate Duncan for disappearing, just when we need him! He literally left the mule and plow in the field, grabbed his stupid knapsack, and bolted. He didn’t say goodbye.”
“I knew he left.”
“Mother cried when I told her. She left the wool she was carding and went to her room.”
“I’m sorry.”
Jim took a deep breath. “I’m jealous Samuel manages to escape to the school most of the day. I see Mother’s sad face. Our house has gotten more lonely as the days go by. Peggy cries. Anna won’t talk. I want to run away.”
“Don’t leave.” She knew Jim wrestled with his father’s death. The pain manifested itself in his short temper with Samuel.
“What else do I do—if not run?” He snatched his hat from the ground and flung it at a slender poplar.
Her eyes noted where it landed. “Runnin’—that’s Duncan’s way. You’re much stronger.”
“Then what do I do?” Despair hovered in Jim’s unsettled gray eyes. “I came to you, Ella, because I know you understand the hurt death brings. You lost your mother when you were little. What do I do with the rage drowning me?” He held his callused hands out in front of him. “I could almost rip down trees with these hands! I want to do something physical to fill the void inside my heart.”
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