Within the Candle's Glow

by Karen Campbell Prough

  “Sophie?”

  He scrubbed a hand over his messy hair. “She’s pretty, fun to talk to, but I’ve never gotten close to Sophie. It’s Ella Dessa. I can’t shake her out of my head. I worried about her when she was a child, as I would a sister. Now, I want her as my wife.”

  Mother drew in a ragged breath. “As does Samuel.”

  “I know Samuel loves her.” He rested his arms on his bent knees. “He and I have never talked about how we feel, but I sense we each know. It’s been like a silent, teasing competition for years. I’ve tried forcing myself to forget and make Sophie the one in my thoughts, but it don’t work.”

  “No, the heart does its own thing.” Her eyes shone with tears, which spilled down her cheeks. “Your papa and I had a few talks about you, Samuel, and Ella Dessa. Ephraim understood how it was with you two boys. He worried and prayed. He loved Ella Dessa as a daughter. Wanted the best for her. Trouble is, he thought both of you were the best!” She chuckled and used her skirt hem to wipe her face. “Oh, I miss him.”

  “Mother, what do I do?”

  “Jim, I have no answer for you, except talk to God. In the end, it’ll have to be His will and Ella Dessa’s choice. Don’t fight Samuel for her or both of you will lose.”

  The door opened, and Peggy came in with Phillip in tow. “Jim? Did you fall?”

  He stood and tugged her red hair. “No, we were talking about how you don’t have supper fixed.”

  The teenager placed her hands on her hips and glared. “Oh?”

  “So—we decided I’ll mix a batch of slapjacks and feed the whole bunch. I found a honey tree, plus we have maple syrup. I will fry some of the hog I butchered.”

  “You will?” She whirled toward their mother. “What’s wrong with him?”

  Mother laughed and shrugged. “Don’t ask me. It’s a wonderful surprise.” She stood, whipped off her apron, and dropped it over the back of the rocker. “Come, Phillip, you and I are going to sit outside and watch the stars appear. Grab a coat. Jim, save some of the honey so I can make one batch of my honey soap.”

  “Me and my big mouth.” He sighed in regret.

  His sister waved to him. “Holler when it’s ready.”

  “Where you going?”

  “I got to tell the girls about our new cook.”

  Chapter 12

  The first days of October brought a surprising icy chill and a light frost into the mountain cove, even with the full moon a week away.

  The cold air managed to sneak through cracks in the store’s chinking. Ella wore her shawl. She dusted shelves and stocked them with new supplies, while reflecting on how life had changed since September.

  She hummed while arranging axe heads and hammers along a rough-sawn shelf she cleaned. With the fireplace not far behind her, she was reluctant to move to another task. The sound of boots on the wooden front steps caused her to raise her head and look to the left. The small brass bell—attached to the door handle with a piece of rawhide—swayed and jingled.

  Samuel stepped in, removed his hat, and turned to close the door.

  “Hey, I like that.” He poked the miniature bell and made it swing from side to side, jingling one more time.

  “Shut the door!”

  “Oops! Sorry.” He closed it and rubbed his hands together. “Smart idea—the bell, that is.”

  She smiled. “I hung it yesterday. I can hear it in the storage room.”

  “The temperature dropped since this morning. Been busy?”

  “Yes, Laura and Katy Stuart came to buy three ribbons and some meal. A trapper wandered in and purchased a blanket.” She removed items from the second shelf and set them on the floor. “I thought you went home after school.”

  “Naw, I stayed to talk to Konrad. He told me about a social Miles is having in his new barn—near ’bout two weeks from now.”

  “Yes, I heard talk of it some time ago.” Ella turned her attention to the shelf, picked up a rag, and dipped it in a bucket of dingy, cold water. She wiped the splintered wood shelf. “I ground the coffee we got in from the last supply wagon. Do you think your mother needs some—‘fore it’s gone?”

  “Don’t know.” Samuel twirled his hat. “Konrad says there’ll be food at the barn social.”

  “Hmm, that’s right.” She headed to the back door with the bucket of water. “Agatha told us Miles is askin’ the women to bring baskets of food. They’ll be sold to buy supplies for the new school. He says he’ll plan a trip east to get what’s needed.”

  “Who’s gonna buy these baskets?”

  She grinned. “Why … the men, after they catch a whiff of what’s in them.”

  Samuel followed her and opened the door. “Let me have that bucket.” He took it from her and tossed the dirty water out onto the hard dirt. “I got some saved. I’ll buy what you cook. Can you put a pie in it?”

  “I could, but I’m not plannin’ on it.”

  “Why?” He handed her the empty bucket and closed the door.

  “Don’t care to.” She shivered. “That wind is bad.”

  Josh’s stern, dark eyes came to mind. He had returned to the store twice in the past weeks, each time mentioning the dance. She slipped behind the front counter and set the bucket on the board floor.

  “But, basket or no basket, you plan to go, right?”

  “I might.” She pretended to examine a hay hook leaning against the wall. Walter had carved it and placed it in the store for sale.

  “Then—go with me.”

  “Haven’t decided to go.”

  “Why? Everyone in Beckler’s Cove and the surroundin’ mountainside will go.” He tapped his knuckles on the wooden counter. “Look, forget the basket. Go with me. I know you don’t cook.”

  “I do so cook!” She lifted an armful of material to a shelf on the wall.

  “Say you’ll go with me.”

  “No.”

  “Want me to help you with that?”

  “No.” She faced him. “I’m done.”

  His eyes narrowed in speculation. “You won’t go with me? Have I got lice or some other problem?” He sniffed at his underarm and grinned.

  “I’ll see you there.” She took a bolt of material from the shelf and laid it on the counter in front of Samuel. “Do you like this color?”

  “Huh?”

  “The color.” She rubbed her fingers over the smooth texture. The rusty-brown shade would soon match changing leaves. “It’s pretty. A fall color—right? Walter knows of a man in Richmond who sells bolts of cloth. Last fall Walter asked for a couple expensive ones to be sent with this year’s shipment. This is what’s left of one of ‘em.”

  Samuel’s mouth opened and shut. He scowled and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. You’re changing the subject.”

  “Hmm, do you like it?”

  “Ahh, sure.”

  “You ain’t soundin’ sure. Well, it’s the same shade as the new dress I made. I’ll be wearin’ it at the barn dance.”

  With a hurt look in his green eyes, he said, “So … you’ll be there, but you won’t go with me?” He folded his arms across his broad chest.

  “Samuel, it’d be nice, but no.” She wished she could accept his offer. Jim would never ask her. Having Samuel at her side would be fun. But Josh’s indirect warning kept skittering through her mind. She worried he’d cause a problem.

  “You going with someone else? Who? Just tell me.”

  “No one.”

  “Who? That brother of Sophie Wald’s? Ethan? Gossip has it that he’s been seen in here too often.” Samuel banged his palm down on the counter. “You’d go with him?”

  “He never asked me.” She glared at him. “I figger he likes Carrie. That’s why he comes here.”

  “Oh, then who you going with?”

  She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Carrie.”

  “Why didn’t you just say that?” He appeared doubly hurt. “You’re going with Carrie?”

  “Yes, we planned it last week
. You waited ‘til now to speak up.”

  “I—” He frowned. “So, Ethan didn’t ask Carrie?”

  “No. I’ve been sewin’ every night to get a dress finished. Also helpin’ Carrie sew one.” She tapped the bolt of material. “This is the color of mine.”

  She lifted the bolt off the counter and returned it to the shelf. She fought tears. She couldn’t even accept Samuel’s offer—for fear of what Josh might do.

  “That material matches your freckles.”

  She half turned and wagged a finger at him. “Samuel McKnapp, I know you’ve got chores at home. You’d best be runnin’ on home, or Jim’ll come after you.”

  “Naw.” He shook his head. “Jim went to the Wald farm to talk to Sophie. I passed him on the way here. He’s going over there more often.” A wide grin stretched his mouth. “Makes me happy. I heard Sophie’s mother whispering with Naomi. She was saying how Sophie adores my brother. I sure wanted to jump into the discussion, give her my two bits about him working me to death, but I didn’t.”

  Ella felt like crying. Things must be serious.

  She bent to retrieve a stack of woven grapevine baskets from the floor. “Samuel, I’ve work to do. Tell your mother ‘hello’ for me.” She walked away with the baskets clasped tight in her arms. One tear slipped down her cheek.

  “See you tomorrow!” Samuel called.

  She heard him go out the front door and hurried to finish dusting the shelves before Walter came to tally his journal. Samuel’s words echoed in her head. She told herself she couldn’t—just couldn’t—go to the barn dance and watch Jim dance with Sophie.

  But how could she disappoint Carrie? Plus, her new dress hung from a peg beside her bed. It had been a symbol of her wildest dream that Jim would notice her at the dance. Now all hope was gone. She couldn’t compete with Sophie. The girl’s milky white skin didn’t have one flaw—let alone a ragged scar discoloring her neck.

  Walter opened the back door. “You’re free to go. Velma and Agatha are in the kitchen. The children are pulling up the last of the garden and will be clamoring for the evening meal.”

  She untied her apron. “I wrote the credits. I finished the bolts of material and arranged the tack ‘long the sidewall. Did some dustin’. There were only a few customers.”

  “Ahh, God’s blessings are abundant. Tomorrow will be better. Saturday always is.” Walter opened his ledger, perched himself on a high stool at the counter, and dipped his quill in a bottle of ink. His steady hand copied her record into a ledger with a leather binding.

  Ella watched him. “Do you need anythin’ else?”

  “No.” Walter blotted the ink and smiled at her. “Ella Dessa, you’ve been a blessin’ to me. I once figured I’d hire a young man. When you tiptoed in here years ago, just a wistful, pretty girl, I couldn’t turn you away. Your blue eyes melted my stubborn heart,” he said, with a hearty chuckle.

  “Thank you.” Her spirits lifted with his praise. “Things change, don’t they. Now, you’re married to Velma, and I live with you.” She ran her hand over the worn top of the oak counter. “I guess we never know the future.”

  “God weaves wonders in our lives.” He winked. “Go home. I’ll close up. The first of the week, we receive the bulk shipment for winter. The driver is bringin’ it on one of his larger wagons. He said the new road up from Terminus lets him reach Dahlonega quicker. Grace is praying he brings some of it in crates. She hopes Konrad will make more cupboards out of them, now that Miles’s barn is ‘bout done.”

  “She sews cute curtains for the fronts of her cupboards.”

  “Yes, she does.” He smoothed his beard with one hand and stood to his feet. “I’ll be to the house shortly. I’m hungry. Whatever Velma’s cooking smells good.”

  “Nettie brung in four woolen shawls for credit. She says she’ll have more the end of the month.”

  “Thank you, Ella Dessa.”

  She ran down the rear steps and escaped into the late afternoon sun. It gave no warmth, but it managed to peer over the slopes above her, even though the days were ending earlier. She angled for the large double pen cabin sequestered under heavy-limbed pines against the foot of the mountain.

  “Come join us!” Agatha called from the messy table as Ella opened the door leading to the separate kitchen. Freshly shucked corn lay in stacks. “We’ve been discussin’ the pretty dress you sewed in less than one week. Who do you hope will ask you to the dance?” Her merry brown eyes sparkled with excitement. “Or has someone asked you? Come now. Tell us. The nosey old woman’s got to know.”

  Ella stopped by the washbasin and removed her shawl. Warmth from the fireplace enveloped her. “Carrie and I will go together.” She shivered at the cold water in the basin.

  “What?” Velma turned from the fireplace with a large wooden spoon dripping brown gravy.

  “I said, ‘Carrie—’”

  “I heard that part, but I knew nothin’ of it. I figgerd Samuel asked you, an’ Carrie were taggin’ along.”

  “He just asked me.” She wiped her hands on her skirt. “I told him no.”

  “Why?” Agatha and Velma asked in unison.

  She moved to the side window and gazed out at the children. There were a total of eight, including little Adam and Agatha’s two girls. They had pulled the last of the corn stalks and stacked them along the rail fence. Carrie stood in charge. She fussed and directed their work as the early sunset tipped the westward mountaintop.

  “Ella Dessa?” Velma questioned. “You didn’t answer.”

  “Oh, I was watchin’ Adam try and keep up with the others. Should they come in out of the cold wind?”

  Velma smiled. “I stepped out moments ago an’ tolt ‘em all to comes in. Adam’ll be tired tonight. Now, what’s this ‘bout Samuel?” She laid down her spoon, picked up a pewter candleholder, and pushed a new candle into place.

  “I’m not goin’ with him.”

  Velma frowned and lit the candle with a stick from the fire. “Surely, you jest. He must be heartbroken.”

  “I’ve a problem.” She walked to the table. Her hands automatically reached for the last ears of corn still not shucked. She stripped one and dropped the roughage into a tall willow basket on the floor.

  “We’re all ears.” Agatha held one ear of corn in the air.

  “Ah, funny.” Ella sighed. “I won’t go with Samuel. Josh asked me weeks ago. I turned him down.”

  “I see.” Velma frowned. “It’s strange how he went away and returned. You didn’t cares to go with ‘im?” She set the candle on the table. A thin wisp of smoke drifted away from the flame.

  Ella shook her head and picked at silk on the ear of corn. “No. So now, I dare not say yes to no one else, ‘cause Josh knows I didn’t know of the barn dance—‘til he mentioned it.”

  Agatha tapped her fingertips on the table. She appeared deep in thought. “But what’s wrong with tellin’ Josh you’ll go?”

  “I don’t want to. It’s that simple.” She shrugged her shoulders.

  “But … you’re the one he were so nice to, an’ he brought me the gold.” Velma chose an ear of corn and ripped downward on the green casing.

  “He makes me feel uneasy. Prickly—like bein’ stabbed with a quill.” Snatching another ear of corn, she attacked it, and tore off the outer layers. “I wish someone else had asked first. I couldn’t lie and say they had.”

  Velma nodded. “Poor Samuel.”

  Sighing, Ella decided not to say Jim was on her wish list.

  Sophie has Jim.

  “I know of a way to spend time with the boy you want to attract. Fix a basket. Slip a hint to him.” Agatha chuckled. “Sittin’ in a dark corner, sharing a meal and a warm kiss is far more fun than doin’ a group twirl around a barn’s dirt floor.”

  “Why, Agatha.” Velma banged an ear of corn on the table. “I’m shocked at you!”

  They all laughed and giggled, relaxing into the friendly banter they usually enjoyed.

  Agatha’s
bushy eyebrows wiggled as she winked at Ella. “Josh couldn’t argue against someone else payin’ for your basket. I hear they will have the men bid on them to raise money for the school.”

  “I know, but—”

  “You sometimes gots to go after the man you want. My poor Arnold said it was me chasin’ him that forced him to realize he couldn’t live without me.” She collected six ears of corn and tugged the green husks down on each one. “An’ then he died, left me to live alone.” Clumping the ears, she tied the husks into a bundle with a thin strip of peeled husk.

  “There’s no one to say that to me.” Ella copied Agatha and arranged her own clump of corn, still on the cob. They would dry them for seed corn.

  Agatha waddled across the room and lifted her bundle of corn to a wooden hook wedged between the boards to the loft. Six more tied ears hung beside them. “Ella Dessa, you want to avoid Josh?”

  “Hmm, yes. I do.”

  “Well, I always say there’s more than one way to sidestep a porcupine. Work up a fancy basket an’ let Samuel’s sister—the redhead—know which one it is. She’ll tell everyone, and more than one person will bid on it. At least you won’t have to eat with Josh.”

  Ella sat in a straight-backed chair. As her thoughts played with the idea of fixing a basket for the barn dance, she untied her boots and pulled her feet from them. The cold floorboards could be felt through her stockings.

  The door jerked wide open. Walter staggered in.

  “Lyle Foster just rode from Konrad’s and said to pray! The teacher took a tumble off his uncle’s barn roof. Grace needs someone to look after the little ones. Lyle said Konrad’s unconscious. They carried him home.”

  Ella was out the door before anyone could speak. She ran halfway down the trail to the teacher’s cabin on Branch Creek before she remembered she had no shoes on. Her heart hammered in her chest as she begged God to spare Konrad’s life.

  She had just reached the Strom cabin when the loud rumble of a farm wagon made her turn. The wagon came fast—horses at a run—and dust boiled out behind. Granny Hanks sat beside Jim and clung with braced arms and feet. Her bonnet had slipped back, and her hair hung loose. Curly gray strands waved along her hunched back.