The Amazon Quest (House of Winslow Book #25)

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The Amazon Quest (House of Winslow Book #25) Page 9

by Gilbert, Morris


  “Oh, most of the time,” Gail smiled as she passed the butter across to him.

  “Once you’ve tasted my wife’s fresh-baked bread you’ll never want any store-bought bread again,” Aaron proclaimed.

  “How did you get here, James?” Emily asked. “There’s no train this late in the day.”

  “I rode a bus.”

  “In the snow? That must have been a rough ride!” Aaron exclaimed.

  James Parker smiled, his eyes showing a trace of humor. “I’ve had worse rides,” he murmured.

  As the meal progressed, the others talked about a variety of issues, including the war, but Parker said very little. He listened to Wes talk about his photography, and finally he asked Emily about herself. “You graduated from high school this year, didn’t you, Emily?”

  “Yes. I was so glad to get out.”

  “Was it that bad?”

  “Oh no, not really. But I wanted to do something different.”

  “And what would that be?” Parker asked. He was studying her thoughtfully, and his rather wide mouth turned upward in a smile. “Have you got the great American novel finished yet?”

  Emily stared at him, then laughed shortly. “Jared told you I’m a writer, huh?”

  “Yes, he did. He talked about you endlessly. I feel like I already know you, even though we’ve only just met.” Parker looked around the table. “In fact, I feel like I know all of you. I saw all the pictures you sent to Jared, and, of course, he talked about you constantly.”

  Gail brought in an apple pie for dessert, and when Parker tasted it, he looked up and smiled at her. “I’ve never had pie this good.”

  “Why, thank you, James.”

  After the meal was over, Parker said rather nervously, “I’d like to tell you about Jared.”

  “Come on into the living room by the fire,” Aaron said quickly. He got up and led the way, and for the next hour Parker spoke about Jared. With the Winslows eagerly hanging on to his every word, he told of Jared’s courage, his cheerful acceptance of the hardship in the trenches, and how he had been the most popular man in his company.

  Emily listened hungrily, and finally when Parker told of Jared’s last days and hours, she struggled against the tears that came to her eyes.

  Finally Parker looked around and said, “I didn’t know whether to come and tell you all this or not. After a year I thought it might just be too painful. Some people don’t want to hear about the details of the loved one they’ve lost.”

  “You did right to come, James,” Aaron said at once. His voice was husky, and he was holding Gail’s hand. “We’re very grateful to you for coming.”

  “Indeed we are,” Gail said.

  Parker reached for his cane, which rested against the sofa, and stood up slowly. “Well, I’ve got to be getting along. I didn’t mean to stay this late.”

  “Why, where are you going?” Emily said.

  “Oh, I’ll find a room somewhere. I left my suitcase at the bus station.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Gail Winslow said. “You’re staying with us.”

  “Why, I couldn’t do that!”

  “Don’t try to argue with my wife, James,” Aaron smiled. “I’ve been arguing with her ever since we’ve been married and have never won yet.”

  “He can have Jared’s room,” Emily said quickly.

  “Of course. You look tired, James. Emily, you go make sure that there are towels and fresh sheets on the bed.”

  Emily left with Wes at her side as Aaron picked up a log to add to the fire and invited Parker to sit down again. After Emily and her brother had made preparations, she came into the living room and said, “Your room’s all made up, James. The bathroom’s right down the hall there. There are plenty of fresh towels.”

  “I’ll get you some of my pajamas,” Aaron offered. “Then we’ll pick up your suitcase tomorrow so you can have your own clothes.”

  James Parker had his head down staring at the carpet. Emily could not imagine what was going on in his mind. When he lifted his head, he simply said, “Thank you. Good night.”

  After he had gone into Jared’s bedroom and closed the door, Emily took her father’s arm and drew him away. “Daddy, I think he’s sick. Did you see how his hands were trembling?”

  “I’ll have Doc Bradford come by and look him over tomorrow. Now I’ll go get him some pajamas.”

  Emily went to the dining room and helped her mother clear the table and wash the dishes. As they were standing at the sink, Gail suddenly turned, and Emily saw tears in her eyes.

  “Poor boy,” Gail whispered.

  Emily knew that the tears were not all for James Parker—her mother was thinking of Jared.

  After the dishes were done, Emily went to her room. It was early yet, but somehow she did not want to go anywhere. Her thoughts were full of their unexpected visitor, and as she wrote in her journal, she found it difficult to keep her mind on it. She had pictured James Parker as being somewhat different, but now as she sat at her desk, she thought of what he had done for her brother, and gratitude filled her.

  Finally she took a bath and put on her warmest pajamas, for the temperature outside was dropping. As usual she propped the pillows up behind her head and began reading. Usually she read a novel for a while and then a chapter from the Bible, but the novel held no interest for her, and she picked up the Bible. She was reading through the historical sections and had reached the sixteenth chapter of Second Samuel. She had been moved by the history in the previous chapters, which told of the rebellion of Absalom, the favorite son of King David. In truth she had been angry with Absalom because he was trying to kill his father. He had raised enough military forces to cause David to leave Jerusalem.

  The last part of the fifteenth chapter told of the flight of David. There had been something prophetic in all this to Emily. David had always been an exciting character in the Bible. Indeed he was a man after God’s own heart, and now to read about his betrayal by this child he loved best and his flight from his beloved Jerusalem had touched her heart. She read the sixteenth and seventeenth chapters, where she discovered a very noble action on the part of one of David’s followers:

  And it came to pass, when David was come to Mahanaim, that Shobi, the son of Nahash of Rabbah of the children of Ammon, and Machir the son of Ammiel of Lodebar, and Barzillai the Gileadite of Rogelim, brought beds, and basins, and earthen vessels, and wheat, and barley, and flour, and parched corn, and beans, and lentils, and parched pulse, and honey, and butter, and sheep, and cheese of kine, for David, and for the people that were with him, to eat: for they said, The people is hungry and weary, and thirsty, in the wilderness.

  She kept coming back to these three verses and rereading them. For some reason this historical note to David’s life moved her deeply. Finally she closed the Bible slowly and put it on the table. Turning out the light, she lay down and pulled the blankets up over her. Her mind was on James Parker, and she thought of how pale and weak he seemed. Though she did not yet know why he was alone in the world, she had been moved by his confession that he had no family and no place to call home, and finally she began to pray. As she prayed she thought of the people who had showed King David such devoted kindness. She finally whispered, “And can we do less for this man who risked his life to save my brother?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “It’s All Right to Cry. . . .”

  Dr. Bradford came down the steps slowly. He was a heavy man in his late sixties and had suffered some heart trouble. He had been the family doctor for as long as the Winslows had lived in Richmond, and now as he reached the foot of the stairs, his face was rather pale as he said, “It ought to be against the law to build two-story houses—too hard on us fat men with weak hearts.”

  “Come into the kitchen, Dr. Bradford,” Gail said quickly. “I’ve got some hot coffee and some fresh apple pie.”

  The doctor followed Gail into the kitchen and drank the scalding hot coffee as if it were cool ice water. �
��Ah,” he said. “Now that’s coffee!” He applied himself to the pie and devoured it quickly. “I’ll have just another half cup of that coffee, Gail.”

  Gail quickly removed the pot, poured a half cup of the black liquid, and put the pot back on the stove. “How is he, Doctor?”

  “Well, I think he needs to be back in the hospital. I’m not sure why they released him.”

  “Is it his wound?”

  “No, that seems to be clearing up all right, but I don’t like that cough. If it turns into pneumonia, I wouldn’t like it at all.”

  “I hope it’s not the flu. We missed all of that, but I don’t see how. Every family in the neighborhood had a case except us.”

  “Well, I told him I thought he should go to the hospital here in town, but he said he didn’t have any money.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Doctor. We’ll take care of him.”

  “He might be just as well off here as he would be in the hospital. They’re so full, I doubt he would get a bed anyway. That Spanish flu is still taking a toll.”

  Dr. Bradford rose and picked up his bag. “Give me a call if he gets worse. I’ll stop by day after tomorrow and check him again.”

  “Any special medicine he needs?”

  “No. Just good home cooking. Keep him out of the cold and give him a lot of pampering.”

  “We’ll do that, Dr. Bradford.” Gail smiled. “We think he’s special around here.”

  Bradford was close enough to the family to know of the circumstances surrounding James Parker. “Well,” he said roughly, “he’s in good hands. I can see that. Just keep me posted.”

  ****

  Emily looked up when she heard the sound of faltering footsteps on the stairway. Quickly she ran halfway up and met James as he was coming down the steps. “Did you sleep well?” she said, smiling.

  “Pretty well.” Parker smiled back at her. “How about you?”

  “Oh, well enough, I guess.”

  Emily slowed her pace to adjust to his halting gait, and when they reached the bottom of the stairs, she said, “Mother made pancakes this morning. I hope you like them.”

  “I’ll like anything, I think. Your mother’s a fine cook.”

  “I hope I’ll be as good someday.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  When they reached the dining room, Emily said, “Dad’s already had breakfast, and Wes is gone, but I thought I’d join you.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Emily ran in and said, “Mom, James is up. He looks better and has some color in his cheeks.”

  “You go sit down. I’ll bring the pancakes.”

  “No, I’ll help you.”

  The two moved about the kitchen quickly, and soon James Parker was cutting a plate-sized pancake. He sliced it into small bites, and then Emily said, “We have honey, maple syrup, and sorghum. Which do you like best?”

  “I’ll have some of all of it.” Parker smiled. He really had a good smile, and his gray eyes seemed to have more light in them. This was his third day with the Winslows, and the rest had done him good. He poured some of the sorghum over a portion of his pancakes, wolfed it down, then speared another morsel with his fork. He put it in his mouth, chewed it, and shook his head. “These cakes are delicious. They don’t make them like this in restaurants.”

  Gail came in with a platter full of ham and set it on the table. Then she sat down and said, “I’ve already eaten with Aaron, but you two go ahead.”

  As Emily ate her pancakes she said, “You look much better, James. Your eyes are clearer, and your cheeks are filling out.” She touched her own cheeks with her forefinger to illustrate her point.

  “I feel like an intruder eating your food, and I hope I’m not making a nuisance out of myself.”

  “Don’t be foolish!” Emily said.

  After the two had downed all of the pancakes, Gail said, “I’ll fix some more if you’re still hungry.”

  “No, not for me,” James said quickly. He shook his head. “No wonder I’m gaining weight. It’s strange that your husband doesn’t weigh three hundred pounds.”

  “He’s one of those men who can eat whatever he wants and never seems to gain an ounce.” Gail laughed ruefully. “I have to watch what I eat, but not him. Why don’t you two go into the living room? I’ll bring your coffee out there,” Gail said.

  Emily quickly rose, and the two went into the living room. She sat down beside James on the overstuffed couch, and Gail came in with two cups and a pot of coffee. “You’ll have to wait on yourself. I have to go to the store.”

  “All right, Mom,” Emily said. “I’ll do the dishes.”

  Parker watched Gail as she left and shook his head. “You picked winners for parents. Jared always talked very highly of them.”

  James was wearing some of Jared’s old clothes, since all he had been carrying in his suitcase were uniforms. It had given the family a bit of a shock when he had first appeared wearing one of Jared’s favorite shirts. He was smaller than Jared was, the same height but not so well filled out, so that the clothes hung loosely on him. Now he reached down into his pocket and said, “I’ve got something for you.” He had brought some of Jared’s personal things, including his Bible and his watch that his father had given him. James held something in his hand and said, “He always kept this in his kit. Said it made him think of his baby sister.” He opened his hand and smiled when Emily gave a cry of surprise.

  “It’s the bear!” She reached out and took a small ceramic bear sitting up in a comic position. “I gave him that for his birthday when I was only six. He always kept it on his dresser. Said he thought the bear looked like me.”

  “Not a bit of it,” James said. “You’re much prettier than that bear.”

  Emily held the smooth item in her hand, running her fingers over it. “Brings back old memories. We make a big thing of birthdays around here, and I looked everywhere to find something I thought he’d like.” She held the bear against her cheek and turned to smile at James. “I don’t know what was going on in my childish mind to think he might like a gift like this. But he did—or at least he always said so.”

  “You two were very close, weren’t you?”

  “Yes, we were. We were more like two brothers, I guess. Most brothers leave their little sisters out when they get to be a pest, but not Jared. He always took me with him on his hunting and fishing trips. We were very close.”

  The cadence of the grandfather clock ticking in the hall made a rhythmic beat as the two sat talking. Emily finally said, “We don’t talk about it much, but I suppose you know how grateful we are to you, James, for what you did for Jared.” She saw a slight flush touch his cheek, and he shook his head. “Don’t say it was nothing, because it was something. It was so brave of you to go out and carry him off the field when he got wounded.”

  “That sort of thing happened a lot,” James said.

  Emily could see he was embarrassed by the remark and clearly wanted to change the subject.

  “I won’t pester you with gratitude,” Emily said, then reached over and squeezed his arm. “But I’ll never forget it.”

  “It didn’t work out right, Emily. I wish I’d been the one to go instead of him. I didn’t have any family to leave behind.”

  “We’ll never know why tragedies happen as they do, but you’re alive, James, and we’ll never forget what you did for Jared in the hospital.”

  James shrugged his shoulders and ran his hands through his tawny hair. “I can’t stay here forever,” he said.

  “Where will you go when you leave here?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Stay with us, then. Mom and I will fatten you up like old Dr. Bradford.”

  James turned to face her, his gray eyes glowing with an enigmatic light. Emily felt embarrassed by the steadiness of his gaze, and then she laughed and said, “You want to hear some more of my stories?” She had been reading her short stories to James, stories she had been trying to get publishe
d in several women’s magazines, but so far without success. Now she laughed in a half-embarrassed fashion. “But you probably don’t.”

  “Nothing I’d like better,” he assured her. “You’re a fine writer, Emily.”

  The praise brought a flush to her cheeks, and she could not think of an answer.

  “It must be nice to be able to do something like that,” James said. “I could never think of a thing to say. One of these days you’ll be writing books that bring a great deal of pleasure to people, and I’ll be saying, ‘Why, I knew Emily Winslow when she was just starting out. But I knew all the time she was going to be great.’ ”

  “Oh, don’t be silly!”

  “I’m not being silly at all. You have a gift with words. You know, some people can do that.”

  James turned serious for a moment and chewed on his lower lip as he thought. It was a habit that Emily had noticed, and she was once again rather shocked at how well she had gotten to know this man who had come to their home a virtual stranger.

  “Who do you like? Which writers?” she asked, and for a long time the two sat talking about writing.

  Actually James had read more than Emily herself, a fact that surprised her. She had read the most fiction, but he had read by far the most nonfiction. The fire crackled in the fireplace, sending a rich aroma of woodsmoke through the room, and as the two sat sipping coffee, Parker studied the face of the young woman and noted the brightness of her eyes and her widow’s peak. He had never seen anyone with eyes as blue as hers. They were almost electric when she got excited. He smiled as she read her stories, for she threw herself into the reading of them just as much as she threw herself into the writing.

  When Gail came back from the store, she looked in and saw Emily standing by the fireplace, reading from a sheaf of papers, her voice animated. Gail shook her head and passed on into the kitchen.

 

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