Within the Candle's Glow

by Karen Campbell Prough

  “Ahh, something about flowers.”

  “Come on.” She turned and started down the rocks ahead of him. She didn’t dare stand close to him one more second, or she’d throw herself at him and demand to be kissed.

  She wanted to know what his lips felt like. She also fought the urge to push her fingers up through the disorderly waves of dark-brown hair on his head. Giggling at her guilty thoughts, she quickened her steps.

  “What’s so funny? Ella Dessa! Wait up.”

  “You catch up.” She brushed her hair out of her eyes and chanced a peek over her shoulder. He was frowning.

  “Watch your step in that dress, or you’ll trip.”

  “I aim to survive this hike with no broken bones. You catch up.” She made it to their dining rock, whipped the picnic cloth off it, and waited. “You’re slow.”

  “I’m older than you. I worked hard yesterday.”

  “You had a nap.”

  “Hmmm. It was a good one. Young woman, I can keep up with you. I guess I’m not that much older. Am I?”

  She couldn’t help but respond with another teasing remark. “A few years.”

  For a couple hundred feet, they hiked along the edge of the descending mountain stream. Jim pulled branches out of her way and assisted her when they had to climb down a steep mass of rocks. They stayed close to the rushing water, ever watchful for copperhead snakes coiled in the crevices. At some places, they had to backtrack and go around boulders blocking their path. Above their heads, handsome maples had leaves fluttering in the breeze. The June sun angled along the tree-shrouded tops of the mountain.

  The ravines of the forest flattened out. The bouncing stream meandered and curved toward the flat bottom of the skinny cove. The water slowed its pell-mell rush. It silently flowed under trees and then out into the open meadow some past settler or Indian tribe had cleared of all trees.

  Ella loved the quiet splendor of the constricted meadow, the upward curve of the mountainsides, and the expanse of bright blue sky. “What could be more beautiful?” she murmured, all the while conscious of his presence.

  “There’s one thing …”

  “Last night the full moon lit the night with silver light. I seen deer walkin’ across the clearin’. A fawn kicked up his heels.” She fought tears. “I wanted to run out in the moonlit field, lift my hands to heaven. It was breathtakin’.”

  “Ella Dessa.”

  She ignored him—unsure of her own emotions. She stood with her hands on her hips and kept her eyes on the scenery. Her chest lifted with the intake of her ragged breathing. I jest want to stay beside him—not yearn for snatches of time. Oh, God, why did I fall in love with him?

  “Look at me.” He gently tugged at her arm.

  She faced him.

  “Everything I see today is breathtaking.” His intense eyes searched her face. His hands sought hers, fingers tightening.

  The sun shone through the foliage and painted patterns of light on his shirt and face. She boldly met his stare. It was as if they had turned to statues within a framed piece of time. The world floated past them.

  “Ella Dessa, I need to tell—”

  She gasped and yanked her hands free. “Oh look. Butterfly weed! It’s what Granny tolt me to find.” She laid a hand against her chest and ran to the tall flowers, which bestowed a gentle pink flush of color to the summer greenery.

  Ella Dessa, get hold of your senses.

  The clusters of star-shaped blossoms nodded on slender stalks, and their faces reached for the sun. Orange and black butterflies fluttered amongst them. “Jim, help me? Can I use your knife?”

  He sighed and reached for the sheathed knife at his waist. “Yes.”

  She forced her voice to sound bright and cheerful, but her fingers shook. She could still feel the rough calluses on the palms of his hands—the hands that could also be gentle enough to stroke the head of a dying dog.

  He followed her and cut the stem where she indicated. He frowned at the milky white substance smearing his knife and fingers. “Ugh. What’s that?”

  She accepted the flowers and smiled at his grimace. “Wipe your fingers on the grass.” She held five clumps in her hands, the thick leaves sticking out along the stems. “This is good. Granny uses ‘em for lung problems.”

  “Will they wilt?”

  “Don’t matter.” She smiled.

  He shoved her hand and the weed out of his way. His lips claimed hers, lingered gently, then more urgently.

  “Ella, you just don’t know,” he whispered against her cheek. His right hand slid up under her hair and cradled the back of her neck.

  The milkweed blossoms fell to the tall grass at their feet.

  “What don’t I know?” she murmured. Before he could answer, she drew his face and lips down to meet hers.

  Jim groaned and gathered her closer. His fingers tangled in her hair. “Oh, if only you understood how I’ve longed for this moment. I never let myself dream it’d come true.” He raised his hands and cradled her face. “Look at me. Let me see your eyes.”

  “Jim—”

  “Hush, I must talk. I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you as a child. You stepped from that old cabin up on the mountain. You wore a woman’s brown dress. Your messy hair fell clear to your hips, much as it is now. Your dirty toes peeked out from under the ragged bottom of the homespun dress, but I lost my heart forever that day. I don’t know how, but I did.”

  “You … love me?”

  “Yes.”

  Her heart raced. “But … my scars. I seen your face the day Anna ran from your house. You were … sickened.”

  “No, no—no,” he groaned. He held her away from him. His fingers brushed aside the high collar and touched her skin. “I didn’t see scars that day. I was horrified at my sister’s awful words.”

  “But—”

  “They aren’t there. I only see the girl I want for my wife.”

  “Your wife?”

  “Yes, I have to know you’re mine. I won’t go on pretending I don’t care. I know Samuel loves you, but I won’t let it stop me from asking. Ella Dessa. I need to hear your answer.”

  Her lips trembled, and tears slid down her cheeks. “Jim, I want nothin’ more in life than to be your wife.”

  “Then tell me your answer with a yes or—”

  “Yes,” she cried and laughed.

  “Then you’ll marry me.” His lips sought hers.

  “Yes.”

  “When? Tell me when.”

  She placed her hands on his wide chest and felt his heart beating beneath her fingertips. She smiled and hesitated. “The middle of August.”

  He bent to place a trail of kisses along her neck. “Hmm, I don’t know if I can wait that long. I want you as my wife now.”

  She shivered at the touch of his lips on her skin. “We must wait … jest over two months.” She smiled at the thought. “Velma’s baby will be here soon. I need to be with her for a short time.”

  “You should’ve told me you cared about me.” He raised his head and playfully shook her. “We’ve wasted so much time!”

  “I should’ve told you?” She stood on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You were busy chasin’ someone named Sophie.”

  “Naw.” His lips claimed hers once more. “She chased me, and I was waiting for you to grow up.”

  “Am I grown up now?” She clung to him, still feeling as though she floated through a dream. She had no desire to awaken and find solitude awaited her.

  “Yes, indeed. Hmm … yes.” He whispered the words against her lips. “And I have a secret.”

  She leaned back in his arms and trailed her fingertips along the side of his face and over his lips. She shivered as he grabbed her hand and pressed it to his lips. “What’s the secret?”

  “There’s a small cabin in the woods above my parents’ homestead. They lived in it while building the log house. I’ve been repairing it, waiting for you to realize I was the one you loved.”


  “Jim, I was the one waitin’.”

  #

  Two weeks later, Ella heard the bell jingle over the store’s backdoor. Samuel stepped in. “Can we talk?”

  “Yes.”

  He took off his hat and held it in his left hand. “I came to say goodbye.”

  “So soon?” A lump formed in her throat. “You won’t stay for the weddin’?”

  “No. Can’t. Konrad says it’s time for my interview with the dean at Emory College in Oxford. I leave in the morning.”

  “But—” She fought tears. “I wish you’d wait ‘til—”

  “No. Ella Dessa, I love my brother, but losing you to him leaves a void. So, I’ll move on—while I have confidence in myself. I’ll be back.”

  “When?”

  He chuckled. “Well, I think I won’t return ’til you and my big brother are old married people—real old.”

  “Samuel, you’ve been a good friend all my life. I cain’t help it if I love Jim. We … you and I might’ve been married, but you pushed me away.” She wiped tears off her face and smiled.

  “Don’t remind me.” He stepped closer. A wounded look deepened the color of his eyes. “But your heart was always Jim’s. Not mine. It wasn’t meant for us.” He bent and kissed her damp cheek. “Stop crying. It makes me want to hold you—and Jim might walk in and beat me.”

  She giggled.

  “I couldn’t be the love of your life, only the berry pickin’ partner.” His wide smile failed to reach his eyes. “I have studies to complete. I want to make you proud of me.”

  “I am proud of you.” Impulsively, she hugged Samuel’s neck and pressed her cheek to his.

  He trembled in her arms. “I still love you, Ella Dessa. I might have to learn to hate you.”

  Ella knew she’d always cradle Samuel’s love in her heart. It was too valuable to let go. She stepped back. “Life does funny things, doesn’t it?”

  His slight smile twisted. “Yes. We never know where it’ll take us. God’s plans aren’t for us to know.” His chest expanded with a ragged breath. “I’ll come back someday. You must take care of my brother—and go visit my mother. Oh, and if Duncan ever returns, tell him I’m trying to imitate him. I hope someday to do some exploring, along with teaching. Florida might call to me.”

  “I’ll tell him.”

  Samuel bent and kissed her cheek. “I better stop that. Jim might walk in.”

  She laughed. “I never had so many kisses!”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I don’t want to think of how many you’ve gotten from Jim. And I’m sorry I was cruel to you after I lost my hand.”

  “Samuel, it’s in the past.”

  “Ella Dessa, tell Walter and Velma I’m happy for them. Their baby girl will be spoilt rotten. It’s been born into a large, loving family.”

  She laughed. “Yes, since Myra’s birth last week, I don’t think she’s been put in her cradle to sleep. Someone’s always holdin’ her.”

  He lifted his hat from the counter, placed it on his head, and grinned. “Hey, I got to leave. First, I’ve something for you.” With his left hand, he reached into his pocket and drew out a cloth-wrapped object. “It’s my wedding gift to you. It proves a person can accomplish the impossible with a wooden clamp.”

  She accepted it and started to open it.

  “No.” He closed his fingers over her hands. “After I’ve left.”

  Her heart twisted. As he closed the door, she couldn’t call out a final goodbye. With trembling fingers, she untied the string holding the piece of fabric.

  Into her hands rolled the wooden figure of a girl with flowing hair embossed around her slender body. Two winsome carved eyes gazed up at her. The figurine was almost a duplicate to the one that had been burned and destroyed many years before.

  Sobbing, she pressed it to her heart. “Oh, Samuel. Thank you!”

  Chapter 23

  Saturday August 21, 1841

  Ella dabbed her eyes with a delicate handkerchief Walter had given her. “I wish Mama were here.”

  “I’ve no doubt she knows.” Peggy hugged her. “Now stop sniffling. I don’t want my brother to have a red-eyed bride.” Giggling, the two of them separated and beamed at each other.

  Velma touched her shoulder. “Miles said he’ll be waitin’ on the church steps. He said to give you this.” She laid a small wooden box in Ella’s hands. Carved into the top was the delicate outline of lady slippers and violets.

  “Oh, it’s like the box he gave to Mama. Now I have one of my own.” Her lips quivered. “Velma, can you set this box on Naomi’s mantel ‘til after the weddin’?”

  Peggy presented her a bouquet of multi-colored wildflowers—their petals vibrant in yellows and reds, and everlasting white flower heads. “These are what you asked for. Phillip helped me pick them. He’s so thrilled you’ll be our sister-in-law. He can’t stop talking for the excitement!”

  She wrapped her fingers around the bound stems and kissed Peggy’s cheek. “Mama loved all the mountain flowers. It’s like a gift from her.”

  Inez came across the room and held out a folded piece of white material. “Honey, Leona wants you to have this. We’re all envious.”

  Carrie helped unfold the delicate gift. It was about twelve inches wide and close to four feet long—ornate lace. In awe, Ella stared at it. “Lace? For me?”

  “Yes. She said it’s from Italy. You are to drape it around your neck and down one shoulder.” Carrie lifted the gorgeous piece for all to see. “I hope someday you’ll let me use it!”

  Laughter rippled through the room.

  “Velma, help me with it?” Ella ran her hands down the front of the plain gray wedding dress she wore. She had insisted on making a high-necked pattern and sewing it herself.

  “Ella, we never dreamed of this, did we?” Velma’s dark eyes filled with unshed tears. She hadn’t lost much weight after the baby was born. There was a softness about her, instead of boney slenderness. “The little girl who came to live with me is grown up—a woman gettin’ married! An’ I don’t wants to mess your hair, but I know I’m doin’ this in place of your mama.” She arranged the flowing, shimmering lace around Ella’s neck and over her left shoulder.

  “There’s somethin’ else for you.” She turned and lifted a piece of bleached muslin from Carrie’s hand. “Here. It’s somethin’ old, but also new, an’ from your mama.”

  “My mama?” Ella stared at a delicate baby bonnet. There were intricate flowers and leaves embroidered across the top and new ribbons for ties. “This is one of the bonnets Mama made for her baby that died.” She smiled. “Velma, you did the embroid’ry!”

  She grinned. The gap between her front teeth showed, but Ella still thought her gorgeous and hugged her close.

  “Careful, careful,” Velma muttered. “I gots it out of your mama’s trunk. Here, let me shows you what we thought you could do.” Taking the bonnet, she placed the stems of the wildflowers in it and deftly tied the ribbon ties in place. She handed it back. “Later, it can be used for your first baby.”

  “That’s so sweet!” She couldn’t find the words to express what was in her heart.

  “Jim’s waiting for you.” Peggy grinned. “We better hurry.” Her large brown eyes twinkled. “I’m so glad you’re marrying one of my brothers.”

  “Well, I couldn’t marry all of ‘em!” She faced the group of women and girls and blurted out, “Do my scars show?” Her voice broke as she said the words, expressing her old fears one last time.

  “Not at all.” Velma lifted baby Myra from a large padded basket on the floor.

  Peggy placed her hands on her hips and cocked her red head to one side. “No scars that we can see. You’ll have to let us know if Jim cares after tonight.”

  “Peggy!” Inez gasped, but some of the women laughed.

  The field was sunny with nodding buttercups and a multitude of wildflowers along the path to the church. Ella could see the solitary figure of her father waiting patiently ou
tside the door. Handsome and proud, he offered his elbow to her and smiled. “May I escort you in?”

  “Yes, you may.” Her fingers tightened on his supportive arm, and she clutched the bouquet of wild flowers.

  In a gentle show of affection, Miles drew her hand to his lips and kissed it. “You look so much like your mother.” She saw tears in his brown eyes and knew what passed through his mind.

  “Father, she loved you. This is also Mama’s day—a day she should’ve had with you. She loved you.” A tear slipped down her cheek.

  His fingers wiped it away, and he whispered, “And I still love her.” A broad smile appeared on his face. “Daughter, are you ready to become Jim’s wife?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Well, then—I don’t think we should keep him waiting.”

  Jim’s wide shoulders were straight, encased in a new, store-bought suit of dark material. His deep gray eyes, alight with love, drew her to him. Completeness filled her heart. The young man she had loved since she was twelve reached to take her hand.

  #

  That first night together, flashes of lightning lit the one-room cabin. Within the glow of a single candle, Ella lay in her husband’s strong arms. A late summer storm howled down one side of the secluded cove and up the other. Darkness settled between the mountains. The patter of cold raindrops washed over the cedar shake roof. Jim’s lips built a fire under her skin as his kisses touched the scarred side of her neck.

  “Ella Dessa McKnapp, my beautiful wife,” he murmured, “I’ll never stop loving you or willingly give you up to another. Remember that.” He gathered her closer.

  “I wouldn’t consider life without you.” In the dark, her fingertips traced the outline of his lips.