by Karen Kirst
The knowledge didn’t keep him from getting angry every time he recalled her emerging from the woods after being sick. That awful gray outfit had washed out her complexion. Even her delicately-shaped lips had lost their color. She’d looked miserable. And he’d felt the insane urge to shelter her in his arms until she’d recovered.
And then there were her troublesome in-laws. He’d been tempted to deliver a scathing set-down to that woman, Nadine. Ellie’s goodness, her lack of bitterness, astounded him. Her bravery, too. Sarah would’ve jumped at the chance to let him take control of the situation. Not Ellie. Although anxious, she’d tackled her dilemma with reason and self-control.
“Good afternoon.”
Surprised to see the object of his thoughts at the edge of his garden, Alexander thumbed his old Stetson farther up his forehead and squinted into the late afternoon rays slanting over the mountains. His mouth dried up like the ranch’s creeks after a drought. Ellie looked different today. Gone was the nondescript outfit and perky ponytail. She’d paired a crimson, high-necked blouse with a sturdy navy skirt whose only nod to femininity was a wide ruffle along the hem. Dangly silver and amber earrings adorned her dainty ears. Her brown hair rippled about her shoulders, the top section pulled back and tied with a crimson-and-navy polka-dot ribbon. The hairstyle softened her gamine features, and the rich hue of her blouse made her coffee eyes shine. Bathed in the tawny light of approaching autumn, she was as pretty as a picture.
“How old are you?” he blurted.
Her brows lifted a notch. “Twenty-two. Why?”
“I assumed you were much younger.”
She adjusted the bundle in her arms. “How old are you?”
“How old do you think I am?”
She inspected him openly until he felt his ears burn. Did she realize how expressive her eyes could be? Admiration shone in the sparkling depths. No one had regarded him like that for a long time.
“Thirty.”
“Close.” Dusting his gloves on his pants, he stood and gathered the piles of weeds. “I’m twenty-eight.”
Ellie watched as he dumped the weeds in an old seed bag to be discarded later. As he walked to her side, a gentle breeze teased her loose strands, forcing her to shift her burden in order to dislodge them from where they’d snagged on her mouth.
“What’s this?” he said, indicating the mound of fabric.
“The new cloths and curtains. I thought I’d switch them out if you don’t mind.”
Alexander wasn’t as perturbed by her unannounced visit as he should’ve been. He stuffed his gloves in his back pocket and held out his hands. “Let me carry that inside.”
She released them into his hold, and he caught a whiff of her light verbena perfume.
“You finished these in record time.”
She fell into step beside him, her rosebud mouth curving in a bright smile. “June insisted on helping me. I tried to share my earnings with her, but she refused. Said I had to save up money for the—”
He shot her a side glance. “For the what?”
Moistening her lips, she said, “For the future.”
“You’re a widow like her. Makes sense she’d be sensitive to your position.”
“Yes,” she softly agreed.
They entered the unusually quiet café. Passing through the kitchen and hallway and into the dining area, he was very aware of her proximity, the differences in their heights, the way she walked and gestured and carried herself. Being alone with Ellie was becoming a habit, one he was growing too comfortable with and must take efforts to curtail.
When she started to drag a chair over to the first window, he intercepted her.
“You take care of the tables. I’ll see to the curtains.”
Finger to her chin, she studied the room. “How about we work together? You remove the old curtains, and I’ll hand you the replacements.”
“All right.”
While they worked, she gave him a commentary on that morning’s services. Apparently a bird had gotten inside and had interrupted the sermon, swooping toward women’s hats and causing mayhem as a few of the men attempted to capture it. She described the scene in such detail, Alexander couldn’t help smiling.
“I’ve never seen you there,” she mused. “Why don’t you attend?”
His smile faded. Rolling the ratty curtains into a bundle, he twisted to hand it to her. Why must she persist in stirring up painful issues? First she’d questioned him about Texas. Now this.
He stepped down from the chair, bringing him close enough to notice her thick, curling eyelashes and a tiny scar edging her lower lip. Once again, he became distracted by her loveliness.
The change in her wasn’t that dramatic, he reprimanded himself. Ellie was simply the first woman he’d spent any significant amount of time with since arriving in Tennessee several years ago.
“I haven’t gone to church in ages,” he said. “I have no desire to sit and listen about God’s goodness and love.”
Compassion softened her eyes. “I’ve suspected for some time that you suffered a horrible hurt, something you haven’t shared with anyone. But God sees your private struggle. He’ll give you the grace to work through it, if you let Him.”
Alexander couldn’t deny he craved freedom from the burdens coiled around him like heavy chains. Her gentle understanding and the conviction of her words tempted him to let go of the hatred he carried for his enemy, the disillusion directed toward his Creator, the guilt and anger he felt over his own actions.
Her small, soft hand curved around his forearm. “You don’t have to shoulder your burdens alone, you know. You could talk to me. Or Duncan. Reverend Munroe. No one will judge you.”
“Please, Ellie, don’t press me on this.”
Her countenance pensive, she gave a reluctant nod. “I can still pray for you, can’t I?”
Startled, he was trying to form a response when there came a rap on the door. Moving blindly to release the latch, he stared at the couple on the boardwalk wearing matching grins.
“Alexander.” Duncan McKenna clapped him on the shoulder. “We were passing by and saw you through the window. Mind if we come in for a minute?”
He absently moved aside as the auburn-haired Scotsman escorted his wife, Caroline, into the midst of their redecoration project. The pair was partly responsible for hiring Ellie. While he hadn’t been happy about their meddling, and he’d been pulled into his new cook’s affairs, he no longer resented their actions. The Plum was better because of it.
“How are you getting along, Ellie?” Caroline inquired, her blue eyes softening with fondness. “We’ve come in to eat several times, and we’ve yet to be disappointed.”
A blush tinted her cheeks. “Satisfying customers is my top priority. It’s nice to hear I’m succeeding.”
“I’m still learning my way around the kitchen. Eating here is a treat for both of us, trust me.”
Laughter rumbled deep in Duncan’s chest. Taking hold of his wife’s hand, he placed a gallant kiss on her knuckles. “You’re improving every day, my love.”
The affection passing between them made Alexander uncomfortable. He glanced at Ellie but was unable to gauge her reaction. She’d only recently lost her husband. Did it pain her to see a couple so deeply in love with each other?
He ran his finger along the empty spot where his wedding band once rested. The hole Sarah’s death had created was complete. He made it a point not to dwell on how much he missed having a connection to another person.
The blonde’s next words brought him out of his ruminations.
“Ellie, have you considered offering classes? I’m certain young women on the verge of marriage would pay for your instruction.”
“Don’t most girls learn to cook from their mothers? Or grandmothers, as I did?”
“There are some whose mothers aren’t around or aren’t able to impart their knowledge. Others might wish to further what skills they possess. I’d be your first student.”
Ellie’s hand drifted to her midsection in a protective gesture, something she did often, he realized. The move struck him as familiar, somehow.
“I’m not sure. I’d have to give it some thought.”
Alexander spoke up. “I have serious reservations about such a plan. While a valid one, Ellie is stretched thin as it is. Most of her time is spent planning and preparing meals.”
Caroline’s gaze reflected concern. “I didn’t think about that.”
Ellie simply looked surprised he’d voice an opinion.
Duncan’s grin had a sly slant. “We share your concern for Ellie’s well-being. She’s been an asset to this community.” Rubbing his hand along his jaw, he scrutinized Alexander. “For you, in particular. You’re looking much improved.”
When he’d been confined to the sickbed over at Doc Owens’s, the Scotsman had been his only visitor.
“I have benefited from Ellie’s nurturing nature,” he conceded. “She’s made it her mission to nurse me back to health and is always on hand with a glass of cold milk to soothe my upset stomach.”
A spark of mischief entered her dark eyes. “Don’t let him fool you. Alexander isn’t the least pleased with my interference.”
Duncan laughed outright. “Oh, I’ve had a taste of his displeasure. You’ve a thick skin, ma’am.”
“Most of the time,” she agreed, her gaze skittering away.
Alexander studied her. For so long, he’d been mired in his grief to the point of being oblivious to others’ feelings. Although he hadn’t been outright cruel, he hadn’t exactly been kind. Shame shafted through him.
“We’ll let you get back to work,” Duncan said. “Caroline and I are taking a ride into the mountains this afternoon.”
When Alexander remained silent, Ellie followed them to the door. “That sounds fun.” A gust of wind pushed through the opening, tugging at her ribbons. “Have a wonderful time.”
Caroline’s smile encompassed them both. “Thank you. We’ll see you around.”
“Thanks for stopping by.”
They left hand in hand, heads together as they engaged in conversation. This time, Ellie couldn’t hide a wistful expression. She leaned against the closed door and sighed.
Alexander resumed his spot on the chair. “Let’s get this over with so you can enjoy what’s left of your day off.”
She complied without a word of objection. They worked in disconcerting silence until every last cloth and curtain had been replaced. What was she thinking about? he wondered. The McKennas and their happy life? Was she considering finding a replacement husband? Alexander hadn’t spoken to anyone of his adjustment from husband to widower. He’d walked the lonely road of grief alone.
“You did a good job, Ellie.” He felt the need to express his gratitude. “The soft yellow color makes a big difference.”
He hadn’t realized how dreary and depressing the heavy maroon fabric had made the room seem. Sunlight passed easily through the swaths of cotton she’d chosen. If he’d been invested in his own business, he would’ve made the necessary changes himself.
“Thank you.” She smiled. “I had hoped you’d be pleased.”
“I am.” He gestured toward the hallway. “Let me walk you out.”
“What about the discards?”
“I’ll take care of them.”
Outside at the garden, she paused near his cabbage plants. “I can help you finish the weeding, if you like. I interrupted your chore.”
The breeze ruffled his hair. He impatiently brushed it out of his eyes and studied the sky. The towering white clouds didn’t appear to hold rain.
“I appreciate the offer, but I can do it on my own.”
Her smile had a sad quality. “Then I bid you good day, Alexander.”
She was about to turn away when another strong gust whipped her hair and flattened her skirt, molding the material to her slender body. Almost immediately, she moved to cover her midsection, but not before he saw the distinct bulge that couldn’t be explained by anything other than a developing pregnancy.
Cold shock shivered through him.
Her eyes grew round, her lips working in distress. “Alexander...”
The heat of denial raced through his veins. He felt disoriented. Sarah’s laughing face exploded in his mind’s eye. Memories rushed at him. The day she’d informed him he was going to be a father and the indescribable joy he’d felt. Her frequent sickness and complaints about her growing girth. Then, after months of anticipation, the day came that his beautiful baby boy had entered the world. He’d been giddy with pride.
Alexander’s muscles locked up. He had no idea what his expression revealed, but he could plainly see Ellie’s trepidation.
“Why, Ellie?” he scraped out. “Why didn’t you tell me you were expecting a baby?”
Chapter Six
Ellie had expected mild surprise, not outright dismay. “I was going to tell you. Eventually. You have to understand it’s not an easy conversation to strike up.”
His beautiful blue gaze was locked on her middle as a riot of emotions herded across his face. She folded her hands at her waist to impede his view.
“What would you have had me say, Alexander? We’re serving chicken and dumplings for supper and, oh, by the way, I’m expecting my late husband’s child in the spring.”
“That’s why you were sick the other day,” he murmured. “Why you’ve been exhausted.”
“You don’t have to worry about the café. I can work right up until time—around mid-March. I’ll require a couple of weeks off, of course, but when I’m able to return to work, I can feed the baby during the breaks. I assume she’ll sleep a lot in the beginning. I haven’t yet figured out what I’ll do once she’s older and toddling around.”
His gaze bored into her. Ellie fought the impulse to avert her face. She’d dreaded this moment, and now that he knew, it was somewhat of a relief.
Shoving his hand through his dark locks, he clamped his lips together and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t have you here. You’ll have to find alternative employment.”
Ellie’s jaw sagged as Alexander pivoted and strode toward the stoop.
“What?” He was firing her?
Rushing through the grass, she seized his hand and refused to let go.
“I deserve an explanation.”
He stiffened.
“I don’t understand your reaction at all,” she charged. “This baby isn’t going to affect your life that much. You’re hardly ever around, and when you are, you’re holed up in your office.” She increased the pressure on his fingers. “Please. I need this job.”
“You can let go of my hand now,” he pushed through wooden lips.
She slowly released him.
He twisted to face her, remorse etched in his features. “My wife and one-year-old son perished in a fire three years ago. It takes everything I have not to relive that nightmare day in and day out. I can’t live with the reminder of what I’ve lost. I can’t.”
Alexander’s stoic mask slipped, and Ellie glimpsed the depth of his brokenness. The word fire penetrated her mind, and she connected it with the scars on his hands. Alexander must’ve been at the scene. He would’ve done everything in his power to save them.
“I had no idea you’d even been married,” she murmured, her heart aching. “Or had a child.”
She knew what it meant to lose a precious little one. She hadn’t gotten a chance to hold her babies in her arms, but that didn’t make her mourning any less powerful. Her heart broke for Alexander. This was the answer to her long-held question—he eschew
ed the world in order to avoid further pain. While she didn’t agree with his method of coping, she understood what drove him.
“Now you do.” He heaved a sigh. “I truly am sorry, Ellie. You’ve been an asset to the Plum.” The finality in his voice troubled her. He started to turn away.
“Please listen!” She wasn’t too proud to beg. “I can’t go back to that cove. Ralph figured out my secret and advised me to leave. He’s right. Gladys and Nadine will see this baby as their last link to Nolan. You’ve witnessed their dislike. I fear they’ll try to turn my own child against me.”
“Surely there are other jobs you could do. Perhaps at the mercantile.”
“I didn’t see any advertisements when I was there searching for lodging. Not anything suitable, anyway. Besides, who’s going to cook for you? Do you really want to host another town-wide cooking contest? Start fresh with someone new?” She leaned in. “I’ve mostly left you alone.”
He arched a brow in challenge.
“I said mostly,” she defended. “What if the next person you hire is more interfering than me?”
His troubled gaze shifted to the forested mountain peaks and a pair of vultures riding the air current in a circular pattern over unseen remains.
“I promise I’ll stay out of your way,” she pressed. “No more daily intrusions.”
“I don’t know, Ellie...”
“At least let me work until the baby’s born.” By that time, he’d see that having her around wasn’t as difficult as he imagined. They’d be under the same roof, but they’d rarely see each other.
His gaze skewered her. “No more requests, right? No more visits to my office?”
“None. Unless I have a pressing problem, and then I could merely slip a paper beneath your door. We could converse through written messages.”
The corners of his mouth turned down. “Don’t be absurd.”
“What? It could work. You wouldn’t have to see my face or...” She squirmed at the thought of what she might look like in the ending stages of her pregnancy. “Or any other part of me. Just my handwriting.”