by Ann Shorey
Ellie walked down the back steps. “Why don’t you go wading in the creek with the others? They’d be happy to have you join them.”
“Not right now, thank you, ma’am—Aunt Ellie.” Her lips curved upward. “Maria already asked me. I wanted to visit Samson, but now he’s gone to town with Uncle Matthew.”
Graciana’s round brown eyes brightened when she mentioned the horse. Ellie studied her, trying to think of a way to keep her busy during Matthew’s absence.
The girl took a step backward. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Oh, no.” Ellie bent over and drew Graciana into her arms. “You haven’t done anything wrong at all. It’s a joy to have you here.” She dropped a kiss on the top of Graciana’s head, then released her. “Come in the house with me. I think there are a couple of Maria’s outgrown dresses that might fit you. They’re upstairs in the storeroom.”
Ellie took Graciana’s free hand and walked toward the house, talking as she went. “By the time clothes have passed from boy to boy, there’s nothing left but rags. But Maria doesn’t have a little sister—” She stopped and swallowed sudden tears, then took a new breath. “A little sister to hand things down to.”
“I don’t have a little sister, either.” The doll’s head bumped on the risers as they climbed the back steps. “It was always just me and Papa, as long as I can remember.”
“All seven years.” Ellie smiled down at her, teasing.
“Yes.” The child nodded, a serious expression on her face. Her lip trembled. “Now, no Papa.”
Ellie squeezed her hand. “I don’t have a papa, either. Uncle Arthur is my papa.” She pointed to him, dozing in his chair on the porch. His white beard curled beneath his round pink cheeks. A tiny snore escaped his open mouth.
Graciana giggled and whispered, “He looks like Papa. White hair and a beard.”
They stepped into the kitchen.
“While we’re in the storeroom, we can do a bit of cleaning.” Ellie collected a broom and a damp rag before heading upstairs.
Graciana followed her over the threshold of the room and then stopped, her eyes taking in the collection of wooden boxes and trunks stacked against the far wall. After a moment’s hesitation, she moved to the carved walnut cradle Ellie had used for each of her babies. Kneeling, she placed her doll on the red blanket tucked under the hood.
When she looked up, her face shone with pleasure. “Papa made a cradle for my doll, but it was too big to bring with me.” She stroked the carving on one side, setting the cradle to rocking. Ellie stood, transfixed. Her first impulse was to snatch the doll from the bed. She bit her lip to keep from saying anything.
She paused until she could control her voice. “Let’s look for Maria’s clothes. They must be near the front of the stack.” Ellie leaned the broom against the wall and dusted the top of a box with the damp rag.
The first box she opened revealed cloth strips she’d collected to braid into a rug—a winter project. She dropped the cover shut, then tugged a blue-painted trunk away from the wall. After wiping dust from its surface, Ellie lifted the lid.
“Here they are. Come see.”
Graciana joined her and peered into the trunk. The top garment was an indigo print dress with cuffed sleeves. She touched the yoked neckline with one finger. “This is pretty.”
“Yes, it is. The color’s still bright too.” Ellie measured it against Graciana’s back to gauge the length. It fell at mid-calf. “Just right. We won’t even need to shorten the hem.”
She laid the dress aside and lifted the next one from the pile of folded clothing. “This was Maria’s Sunday best, so it didn’t get much wear.” The sleeves of the butternut-colored wool dress flared when Ellie held it up. “It will look nice with your brown eyes.”
Graciana’s shoulder brushed Ellie’s as she bent to retrieve the next garment. “This one looks too small.”
Ellie knelt next to the trunk, resting on her heels. “Most of these are from when she was younger. But two dresses are plenty for now.” She shut the lid and gathered the clothes under one arm. “I’ll rinse the blue one and hang it in the sunshine to freshen it. We’ll air the brown dress and save it for Sundays.”
A trickle of perspiration wound its way down her temple. She grabbed the broom and rag. “It’s too hot in here to clean today. Let’s go downstairs where it’s cooler.”
After retrieving her doll from the cradle, Graciana joined Ellie at the doorway. “Thank you for my new clothes, Aunt Ellie.”
Ellie took her hand and squeezed it. “You’re welcome.” She reached for the doll. “May I?”
Graciana handed it to her. Up close, it bore signs of hard travel. One of the embroidered eyes had frayed, and the fabric was grimy. The doll’s middle had been stiffened with what felt like a round stick inside the padding to hold it firm. The stuffing in its arms and legs had shifted, so that the limbs were lumpy.
Ellie placed the doll on top of the clothing she carried and headed for the stairs “How about if I give her a bath when I wash your new dress? I can fix her eye and give her new stuffing.”
Graciana frowned and looked between her doll and Ellie. “Can I watch? Papa told me to keep her with me always.” She patted the doll’s firm center section. “Papa’s love is in here.”
“What do you mean?”
“When Papa got sick, he gave Aunt Polly something to sew inside Nora—that’s my dolly’s name. Papa told me it would remind me he’d love me forever.” Graciana’s voice wavered.
She collapsed on the top step and buried her face in her hands. Sobs shook her shoulders. “I miss my papa.”
Ellie dropped the clothing and the broom and sat next to Gra-ciana, holding her close. The child snuggled against her chest, weeping. They rocked back and forth, Ellie’s cheek against the top of Graciana’s head.
“I know you miss your papa. God is looking after him now, and he’s looking after you too. He brought you to us, didn’t he?” She bit her lip. Better not promise anything.
After a few more moments, Graciana drew a shuddering breath. Her body relaxed. Ellie slid a handkerchief from her apron pocket and wiped the child’s tears from her cheeks.
“Let’s go downstairs and give Nora her bath, shall we? We’ll make her look new.”
Graciana nodded and started down. Her bare feet pattered on the wooden steps with a sound like hands clapping.
Ellie gathered Nora and the dresses into her arms and followed Graciana into the kitchen. In a few minutes, she’d know what was inside the doll.
Uncle Arthur called through the open door. “Carriage coming. You expecting anybody?”
“No.”
Apprehensive, she placed the doll on the table and went to the door. Graciana trailed her onto the porch. A covered buggy crossed the bridge, but Ellie didn’t recognize the driver.
Uncle Arthur sat forward. “Looks like a hired hack. Didn’t know we had such around here.”
The buggy stopped at the hitching rail and the driver stepped down. A black-draped woman descended.
Ellie couldn’t see who it was through the heavy veil covering the stranger’s face. The woman stood next to the carriage while the driver pulled a carpetbag from the back and placed it beside her. Tipping his hat, he clambered onto the seat and drove out of the yard. If any words were exchanged between him and his passenger, Ellie didn’t hear them. She moved toward the steps, wondering who on earth would come to their farm, with baggage, unannounced. The visitor stood below, looking up at them. She pulled the veil away from her face. “I’ve come home, if you’ll have me.”
Ellie stared. “Aunt Ruby?”
“Don’t you know me, child?”
Ellie flung her arms wide and rushed down the back steps. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
Aunt Ruby allowed herself to be hugged, then drew back. “Don’t. I’m not worthy.”
Her tear-bright eyes settled on Uncle Arthur. He got to his feet and stood balanced on his crutches, mouth ag
ape.
“I didn’t expect to find you here.” Aunt Ruby picked up her bag. “I can leave.”
“No. Stay.” A play of emotions crossed Uncle Arthur’s countenance. Shock gave way to hurt, then what seemed to be anger settled over his normally benign features. He took a step backward. “Come up on the porch so’s I can see you better.”
Once in the shade of the sloping roof, Aunt Ruby removed her bonnet and appeared to notice Graciana for the first time.
“Do you have visitors?” She seemed to shrink inside herself. “I shouldn’t have come. I can’t face people.” Her cheekbones stood out below sunken and red-rimmed eyes. The once blonde hair looked dull and showed streaks of gray.
“This is Graciana,” Ellie said. “She’s joined our household for a time.” She patted the child’s shoulder. “Take Nora out front and play under the oak tree for a while, please.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Using the end of one crutch, Uncle Arthur pushed a chair in his wife’s direction. “Sit.”
She slumped into the chair and bowed her head. “I couldn’t go through with it. I’ve had no peace since I left.”
“This is between the two of you.” Ellie moved toward the kitchen. “I have no business listening.”
“Don’t go,” Aunt Ruby said. “You both need to hear me out. Then you can decide what to do next.” Her voice broke.
“How about fetching some water for your aunt?” Uncle Arthur asked. “I expect she’s thirsty.”
Ellie nodded and fled to the kitchen. Once inside, she leaned against the worktable for a moment and waited for her hands to stop trembling. Having Aunt Ruby back felt like seeing someone return from the grave. When her hands steadied, she dipped water from the crock and carried it to the porch.
Silence hung between the three adults until Aunt Ruby cleared her throat. “I haven’t been able to eat or sleep for weeks. Not that I expect you to feel sorry for me—this is all my doing.” She kept her eyes on the floor as she spoke. “When I left with the troupe it seemed so romantic. Sorrel made me feel like a girl again.” She glanced up and met Uncle Arthur’s implacable gaze. “I told myself I deserved to be happy. But once the excitement passed—” Her face flamed and she ducked her head.
Ellie fidgeted in her chair. Aunt Ruby’s words roused the uncomfortable memory of her own attraction to Marcus Beldon. She shrank at the thought of what might have happened had she been open to his advances. Realizing she was twisting her hands together, she made a conscious effort to stop.
Aunt Ruby turned to her. “I don’t deserve anyone’s kindness, but I came to you and Matthew because I hoped you’d take me in. I’ll do anything you want done, just give me a place to stay.” She took a sip of water and placed the mug on the floor beside her chair.
“You’ve got a home of your own.” Uncle Arthur’s voice sounded harsh. “No reason you can’t go there.”
“How can you? After all I’ve done?”
“I told your pa I’d take care of you, and I reckon the promise still holds.” He turned his head toward Ellie. “Soon’s Matt comes back, he can hitch the buggy for us. No need of me staying underfoot long as Ruby here can take care of things.”
Ellie noticed a glint of satisfaction in her uncle’s eyes and felt a ripple of shock at his expression.
Matthew’s surprise at seeing Aunt Ruby showed on his face when he rode into the farmyard. After tying Samson, he ran up the steps and clasped her shoulders. “I’ve prayed for this moment.”
She pushed his hands away. “Please don’t. We all know what I’ve done. Where else could I go?”
“But—”
Uncle Arthur spoke from inside the kitchen door, where he had his belongings wrapped in a bundle and resting next to his crutches. “I’d be obliged if you’d hitch up my buggy. We’ll be going to my place straight away.”
“Stay for supper, at least.”
Ellie stepped to Matthew’s side and placed a hand on his arm. “I’ve already asked and been refused.”
His eyes reflected bewilderment.
“Things don’t always happen like in the Bible, Matt.” Uncle Arthur moved onto the porch. “We won’t be killing no fatted calf.”
“I sent the twins to the barn to clean out Uncle Arthur’s buggy,” Ellie said to Matthew. “It got covered in dust and hay sitting there these weeks.”
Aunt Ruby had told her of Matthew’s visit in New Camden and how his plea had eventually convinced her to return. Now as she watched him leading Samson toward the barn, Ellie felt an overwhelming sense of love for her husband.
She felt heat rise in her face at the direction her thoughts were taking. She wanted to tell him how much she missed being a wife to him. How she was willing to put her fears aside so they could be close again. But could she face rejection?
After the evening meal, Ellie stood at the window staring into the twilight. Matthew sat at the table writing a report to Elder Meecham. His pen made scratching noises in the quiet room. Outside, the children played hide-and-seek among the lightning bugs that twinkled around them.
Ellie smiled at the sight of Graciana running and shouting with the others, her doll tucked under one arm. Aunt Ruby’s homecoming had pushed all thoughts of the Carstairs from her mind, but now anxiety about Graciana’s future returned.
Ellie stepped away from the window and faced Matthew. A pulse throbbed in her throat. “Did you call on Mrs. Carstairs today?”
30
Matthew wiped the nib and laid his pen next to the inkpot. In spite of his statement to Ellie when he left that morning, he’d deliberately avoided traveling along Hancock Street when he was in town. By not passing the Carstairs’ home he could put off speaking to them about adopting Graciana.
Ellie watched him, one eyebrow raised in a question mark. She looked worried. “Well? Did you see Mrs. Carstairs?”
He cleared his throat. “Not today. I didn’t have time. I’ll go tomorrow.” He waited to see how she’d respond.
“So Graciana may be with us a few more days.”
“I’m afraid so. I hope you don’t mind.”
Ellie walked to the table and rested one hand on his shoulder. The warmth of her touch sent ripples down his arm.
“I don’t mind at all.”
Matthew blew out the candle beside the bed. Crickets trilled beneath the open window, their chirps vibrating in the darkness. Ellie stirred under the sheet next to him and turned on her side.
“Did you finish your report for Elder Meecham?”
“I did.”
“When are you leaving for Quincy?” Her voice wavered. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”
“I’m not going to Quincy.” He pushed himself upright so that his shoulders rested on the headboard. “In the morning I’ll take the letter to the post office and send it off. Elder Meecham can do what he wants with me when he receives it.”
“What if he dismisses you?”
“I’ll still preach. He can’t stop me.” He chuckled. “Of course, he won’t send me a salary, either.”
Ellie’s hand crept into his. “The Lord will provide for us. He always has.”
Matthew turned his head in her direction, surprised at his wife’s expression of faith. He slid back onto the feather tick, his heart joyful. He fell asleep still holding her hand.
The boys’ voices awakened him the next morning. They clomped down the stairs, arguing over whose turn it was to do the milking. He rolled over. Ellie’s half of the bed was empty.
He slipped on his trousers and work shirt and hurried down to the kitchen. The smoky aroma of fried ham greeted him, making his mouth water. Maria and Graciana stood beside Ellie, watching while she stirred something on top of the stove. Matthew blinked and took a closer look.
“Uncle Matthew.”
“Papa.”
Graciana and Maria ran across the room and wrapped their arms around him. “We thought you were going to sleep all day,” Maria said.
Matthew scrubbed his
hands over his face and grinned at them. “Sun’s not even all the way up yet.” He pretended to turn toward the stairs. “Guess I’ll go back to bed.”
Graciana giggled. “No, stay here with us.”
His heart turned over at the happiness in her voice. The idea of taking her to the Carstairs filled him with sorrow.
“Breakfast is almost ready.” Ellie paused in her stirring. “We’re having cornbread and ham gravy.”
“Sounds good.” He hugged the girls and headed for the wash basin on the back porch, his thoughts in turmoil.
Mounted on Samson, Matthew held the reins and looked down at Ellie. “I’ll be gone most of the afternoon. When I’m done at the post office, I want to go to Molly’s and see James for myself. It’s answered prayer to have him home safe.”
“I felt the same way when I first saw him. Thankfully, Molly and Karl have been able to dissuade him from trying to enlist again.” She moved closer and lifted her face in the way she used to do when she expected a good-bye kiss.
He hesitated, then bent and brushed her lips with his. She placed her hand on his cheek, holding the kiss for an extra second. When he straightened in the saddle, he saw a light in her eyes that he hadn’t seen for months.
Matthew nudged Samson’s side with his heels and backed away. “While I’m in town, I’ll stop at Carstairs’ too. Hope Orville’s home so I can talk to both of them.”
Ellie’s smile faded. “Tell Penelope I said hello.” Her voice sounded flat. She turned and hurried into the house.
On an impulse, Matthew directed his horse into the churchyard instead of continuing to the post office. The promised quiet of the sanctuary beckoned. When he tied Samson, he paused to study the compact white church that he and many other townsfolk had built. It felt as much like home as the farmhouse he’d left two miles back.
When he walked in, he noticed footprints and bits of debris on the dusty wooden floor leading up the center aisle. Matthew moved toward the platform, his eyes skimming over the empty benches, the cold iron stove, the half-burned candles in their sconces. Flies bumped and buzzed against the whitewashed ceiling. Being inside felt like visiting an old friend whose health had deteriorated in his absence.