“Not mestizo. Ysabel is Indian. Ipai.”
She gripped the edge of the table. Why hadn’t Pa written to her of his new wife? He knew Eliza better than to suspect Ysabel’s ancestry would matter to her. So why? What wasn’t Andrew telling her? “Does he love her? Is he happy?” Her fingers pressed into the smooth boards. “Oh, why won’t you tell me where he’s gone so I can go and ask him myself?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t tell you where’s he’s gone, because I don’t know exactly. A small group of Indians from Santa Ysabel passed through yesterday with information that Ysabel’s brothers had been captured again and were on their way to auction in Los Angeles. Jim left this morning to see what he could do for them.”
He’d left that morning? She’d been so close.
“I can tell you, however, that your pa loves Ysabel, and I believe he is happy here.”
“He’s happy?”
“Yes.”
“He smiles?”
Andrew’s expression softened. “Even laughs.”
Awe filled her. Pa was happy. He was in love. And she’d had nothing to do with it. Daniel was right. Restoring Pa’s joy had never been her responsibility. Thank you, Lord.
Maria returned carrying a clay pot.
Daniel cleared his throat. “You said Maria is very protective of Ysabel.” He held Eliza’s gaze, his expression seeming to seek her permission to speak on her behalf to reassure the women.
Eliza nodded.
He turned back to Andrew. “Please let Maria know that we would never do anything to harm her or Ysabel, and that we would be honored to accept your invitation to dinner.”
Andrew rubbed his hands together. “That’s wonderful. Now tell me, how long have the two of you been married? Jim never mentioned a husband.”
“What?” Eliza reared back.
Daniel straightened in his chair. “No, sir. I’m sorry, but there’s been a misunderstanding. Eliza and I are not married.”
Andrew’s grin vanished. “You’re not?”
“No, sir.”
Andrew gaped at Eliza. “I assumed when you introduced yourself as ‘Eliza Brooks’ you were trying to convince me that you were Jim’s daughter. I never imagined—”
“No. Mr. Clarke is engaged”—Eliza dipped her chin—“to Alice Stevens.”
Daniel’s eyes questioned her. Outside of introducing him, she hadn’t used his surname in days.
“But you’ve been alone together since leaving San Diego? Unmarried and unchaperoned?”
Daniel shifted in his chair. “Yes, sir, but—”
“He’s been nothing but a gentleman the entire time.” Eliza squared her shoulders. “We slept in bed rolls several feet apart and observed propriety as much as was practicable under the circumstances.” Eliza sighed. “You have nothing to be concerned about.”
Andrew leaned back as Maria brought four steaming bowls to the table. He scratched his head and rubbed his neck before finally puffing out a long breath. “I suppose I’ll let Jim decide that, seeing as I’m not your father. But until he returns, Mr. Clarke, you’ll sleep in our lean-to.” He held Daniel’s gaze. “The door to it groans—loudly—and I’m a light sleeper.”
Daniel nodded. “Understood. What about Eliza—er, Miss Brooks?”
Andrew chuckled. “No point in returning to formalities of address at this point, young man. Eliza can stay with Ysabel.” His wife took her seat beside him. “It’ll give Maria a chance to rest.”
Eliza’s lips parted.
Daniel stilled. “Ysabel is here?”
“She’s up the hill in the cabin Jim built for her.” Andrew jerked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the direction Maria kept glancing toward during the couple’s disagreement. “She’s been ill for several months now and in no condition to travel. So Jim had to leave her behind when he left to find her brothers. He knows we’ll take care of her, but it still killed him to do it.”
Cold washed over Eliza. Pa’s new wife had been sick for months? That must be why he hadn’t written to her. “But you said Pa was happy.”
“He is.”
Daniel frowned at Andrew. “Is it contagious?”
Andrew chuckled and said something to his wife in that language Eliza couldn’t follow. Maria gasped and swatted his shoulder, but there was a twinkle in her eye. Cecilia would be appalled by the exchange.
Andrew faced Daniel. “You’ve no need to worry. Eliza will be quite safe with Ysabel.” He folded his hands above the table. “Now, let’s pray.”
Eliza bowed her head. There was an Indian woman up the hill in a cabin Pa had built. I have a stepmother. Is she kind? Does she love Pa? How serious is her illness? It couldn’t be that serious or Pa wouldn’t have left her for so long. Not if he loved her as his friend claimed. Yet, what kind of illness dragged on for months?
She swallowed. Pa couldn’t lose another wife, another woman he loved. Even if Andrew spoke the truth and Pa was happy despite his wife’s illness, that happiness wouldn’t survive another loss.
Weight settled on her shoulders. He’d barely survived the loss of her mother. Thank you, Lord for bringing me to Pa so that I can…
No. It wasn’t her job to make Pa happy, to fix his sorrows. That was God’s job. Daniel said God loved her and forgave her. She needed to accept that forgiveness. The weight lessened.
Yet, what was she to do? Did trusting in God mean standing by while Pa suffered? Andrew’s lecture had irritated her. He’d only just met her and had no right to question her motives or her trust in God. Yet, if she were honest with herself, there was truth in what he’d said. Fear for Pa’s safety had spurred her into taking this journey. And she still hadn’t figured out how to completely trust God’s plans for those she loved.
A throat cleared.
She looked up to find three sets of eyes on her. Had she missed the prayer? Her focus settled on Andrew. “How sick is Ysabel?”
“She’s doing better now, thanks to Maria. She tried many different plants—some roots, some leaves, some powdered I-don’t-know-what. I’m not sure what ended up helping”—he took a spoonful of the hot stew and swallowed before continuing—“but she’s been able to keep her food down for several days now. Thank the Lord. A good thing, too, or Jim wouldn’t have left to search for Ysabel’s brothers, and she was adamant that he go.” He swallowed another spoonful.
Oh! Eliza was being rude, allowing her meal to sit untouched. She picked up her spoon and inspected the contents of her small bowl. There were bits of meat and what resembled the diced parts of different plants, but the only one she could identify with any certainty was the wild celery. From the corner of her eye, she saw Daniel devouring his meal. She dipped her spoon and took a tentative sip. Mmm. It was quite good.
Daniel set his spoon in his empty bowl. “Then she’s improving?”
Andrew nodded as he turned his attention to Eliza. “I hope you don’t mind—Jim shared your letters with us. The ones he received before he met Ysabel and couldn’t make it to town.” Andrew wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “I almost feel as though I know you. I’m sure Ysabel feels the same. She’ll be quite pleased to meet you.”
The walk through the sparse trees and chaparral to Pa and Ysabel’s home wasn’t long. If it weren’t situated on the other side of a wrinkle in the mountain, Eliza would have seen it from the Cooper’s yard.
As they walked, Andrew pointed out the start of a narrow footpath that he’d told Daniel they could take to retrieve their horses later.
Before she could gather her thoughts and courage, Eliza found herself following Maria through the door of yet another one-room cabin. Andrew and Daniel followed her inside.
Across from Eliza, a young woman rose from the lone cot pushed against the far wall. She didn’t appear more than a decade older than Eliza and stood a hair shorter, but there was a proud air to her posture that commanded respect. Her long, dark-brown hair draped down her back and beneath her thick bangs her deep brown eyes examined Eliza.
She was unmistakably Indian like Maria, though paler, significantly thinner, and there were dark smudges beneath her eyes bearing testimony to her extended illness. The most remarkable thing about the woman, however, was the protruding round belly that stretched against the confines of her deerskin dress.
She was in the family way.
Chapter 31
Eliza’s knees grew weak. Daniel’s hand pressed against her back, steadying her.
She glanced at Maria, who had placed herself at Ysabel’s side, the message in her expression clear. Do not dare to hurt my friend.
“Ysabel”—Andrew gestured to Daniel and Eliza—“this is Mr. Daniel Clarke, a special friend of Miss Eliza Brooks, your stepdaughter.”
Ysabel’s eyes widened. “Eliza?”
Eliza shuffled forward, fiddling with the folds of her skirt. “Yes.”
Ysabel’s eyes brimmed with tears that spilled over and ran down her olive cheeks.
Why is she crying? Did I do something wrong? Eliza glanced at Andrew.
His smile had grown to a grin.
Eliza exhaled and considered her new stepmother. Were those happy tears?
As if reading Eliza’s mind, Ysabel smiled. Her accented voice was soft, almost melodic as she spoke. “I am so glad to meet you. Jim talks much of you. He be so glad you have come. Oh!” The woman wobbled and fell backward onto the cot.
The next morning, the scrape of the cabin door woke Eliza.
Maria stepped inside carrying two bowls, which she set on the small table before exiting the cabin.
Eliza stretched on the pile of furs Andrew had laid out for her the night before. Covered with her bed roll, they made a respectable sleeping surface. Blessedly, no rocks had jabbed her side in the middle of the night.
She rubbed her face and gazed up at the wood-shingled roof above her head. How strange not to see the blue sky.
A picture of Andrew and Maria’s lean-to popped into her mind. Had Daniel slept as well as she, or did he shiver with no fire to warm him?
She’d missed his nearness in the night.
Coral and orange embers winked between the ashes in the fireplace. I must grow accustomed to not seeing his face every morning. He’ll leave the moment Pa returns, and rightfully so. His fiancée had awaited his return long enough. What must it be like for Alice to have waited so many years to become Daniel’s wife?
Daniel’s wife. The thought pierced her like a cactus needle.
A rustle of blankets drew her attention.
Ysabel propped herself on her thin elbows in bed. She sniffed the air and eyed the bowls across the room. Her mouth quirked to the side.
A grin stretched Eliza’s cheeks. It appeared her new stepmother was debating the value of hefting her cumbersome frame from the bed to retrieve her breakfast. Eliza couldn’t imagine how awkward it must be to carry so much weight in one place on your body.
After falling onto the cot last night, Ysabel had not risen again. Instead, she remained sitting as they discussed Eliza and Daniel’s temporary living arrangements. Andrew dismissed the pregnant woman’s behavior as fatigue combined with shock and had assured Eliza that Ysabel was in no danger. Yet even now Ysabel shook from the effort of holding herself up. Eliza’s smile vanished.
She pushed aside the blankets. She couldn’t let Ysabel fend for herself. What if she fell? Didn’t Andrew say Maria had been taking care of Ysabel? Now that Eliza was here, it was her responsibility to care for Pa’s fragile new wife.
She would not let him down again.
She shivered as the cold morning air penetrated the thin fabric of her chemise. Ignoring her stiff muscles, still sore from their days of travel, Eliza pressed to her feet. The frozen dirt floor curled her toes as she scurried to the table. She scrunched her nose. The bowls held something that resembled porridge. Forcing her lips upward, she scooped up the bowl and a spoon, then faced Ysabel. “Are you hungry?”
Ysabel nodded, so Eliza scampered across the small room and handed her the bowl and spoon.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Eliza retrieved her own breakfast from the table before retreating to the warmth of her pallet. She settled the blankets over her legs. Then she scooped a spoonful of the mystery food and stuck it in her mouth. The texture of porridge had never pleased her, but the warm meal proved no worse than any other porridge she’d eaten and it filled her belly.
When they’d both finished, Eliza took the bowls outside to scrub. A moment later, Ysabel bolted from the cabin and rushed around the corner.
Eliza sprinted after her. “Ysabel? What’s wrong?”
She rounded the cabin to find Ysabel on her hands and knees retching into a hole in the ground. From the smell, it wasn’t the first time she’d done this.
Didn’t Andrew say Maria gave Ysabel something that helped keep the food down? Did she need another dose, or had the treatment stopped working? Lord, don’t let this be a sign she’s growing worse again. Drawing in a breath and holding it, Eliza stepped forward. She pulled Ysabel’s beautiful hair away from danger and waited for the woman’s heaving to stop.
A few minutes later, Ysabel’s ragged breathing slowed. Eliza helped her to her feet. With her arm wrapped beneath Ysabel’s shoulders, she led them slowly toward the front of the cabin.
Back inside, Ysabel sank onto her bed.
Eliza found a cloth that she dampened and handed to her stepmother.
After wiping her face, Ysabel pushed herself to a sitting position and pointed to a simple cotton dress hanging from a nail in the wall.
Eliza plucked it off and held it out.
Ysabel took it, but then held it in her lap.
Eliza searched the room for a chemise, drawers and petticoats, but saw only her own. Her stepmother must not own any. She appraised Ysabel, who continued to stare at the dress in her lap. Was she too tired to dress herself? Would an offer of help offend her? Only one way to find out.
“May I?” Eliza held her hand out for the dress.
Ysabel handed it to her and lifted the hem of her nightdress. Eliza tugged the garment free, then helped her stepmother into the dress. A pair of soft, deerskin shoes sat beside the bed. Ysabel reached for them, but Eliza nudged her hands away. “Please, let me.” She knelt and slid the shoes onto Ysabel’s feet.
Ysabel gripped the edge of the bed and struggled to rise.
Eliza held her palms out, motioning for Ysabel to remain sitting. “What do you need? I can get it.”
Ysabel shook her head and pushed upward. Heaving a sigh, Eliza clasped her arms and pulled her up. Her stepmother waddled to a small shelf, where she picked up a comb and lifted it to her hair. The movement threw off her balance and she wobbled. Eliza rushed to steady her, then took the comb and led Ysabel to a seat beside the table.
Standing behind the chair, Eliza combed through the silky, dark-brown strands until all the tangles were removed. The task took little time. Nevertheless, by the time Eliza finished, Ysabel appeared still more tired and returned to bed. Within minutes, the gentle sounds of her rhythmic breathing filled the small, quiet space.
Eliza settled on one of the chairs, watching the rise and fall of Ysabel’s breathing. Eliza’s foot jiggled. What else could she do? She couldn’t just sit here waiting. She must not let anything happen to her new stepmother. Should she find Maria and tell her about Ysabel losing her breakfast? Yes. That was what she would do. Perhaps Maria had another treatment for Ysabel to try.
Eliza stood.
What if something happened to Ysabel while she was gone?
Eliza sat.
She shouldn’t leave Ysabel alone. Yet Ysabel had been alone when they arrived yesterday. Still, that was yesterday. Maria was in charge then. Ysabel was Eliza’s responsibility now. It was up to her to keep her stepmother alive.
Like you kept Ma alive?
Eliza sucked in a sharp breath. Where had that thought come from? It wasn’t her fault Ma had died. Daniel said so.
He said God forgave her, that she… How had he put it? Oh, right. She needed to stop trying to control everyone and everything around her, because that was God’s job.
She hung her head. Not even a whole day later and she was trying to take God’s job again.
Eliza gnawed her lip as she considered Ysabel’s sleeping form.
She could help her stepmother, fetch her things, feed her. But keeping Ysabel alive was God’s job.
Lord, protect her and Pa. Because I cannot.
Eliza stepped up to the Coopers’ front door.
Then she stepped back.
She peered around the far side of the cabin, at the lean-to. Not tall enough to stand in, and barely long enough for a man of Daniel’s height to lie down in, it at least appeared well-built and chinked. Was Daniel still in there, or had he joined Andrew in the main cabin?
The cabin door creaked open and Maria stepped outside. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” Eliza stepped aside to let Maria pass. “I was looking for Da—uh, Mr. Clarke.” Despite Andrew’s admonition not to worry about formal address, his negative reaction to her and Daniel not being married was clear. How would Pa react? Returning to formal address might help convince Pa that nothing untoward had occurred. Breaking the habit of addressing Daniel by his Christian name would take practice. She might as well start now.
Maria pointed into the cabin, just as Daniel stepped out.
The morning sunlight glinted off his thick brown hair. “Good morning, Eliza.” His breath fogged the air as his warm smile tugged her a step closer.
She curled her fingers against the desire to thread them through his glossy waves. “Good morning, Mr. Clarke.”
His smile wilted and his brows pinched.
She stiffened her resolve. The privacy of their journey had drawn them too close, made them too familiar with one another. She focused her gaze on his forehead. “How are you this morning?”
His mouth fell open.
Andrew’s voice boomed through the open door. “Don’t stand there letting all the heat out. Come in and close the door.”
Waltz in the Wilderness Page 21