“Ellie, why did you leave us?”
Jacob’s low male voice sent a shiver of awareness along her skin. She squeezed her apron, then released her grip on the cloth before turning to face him. He leaned one broad shoulder against the door frame, his hip canted to the side. His body was lean, and she sensed a tension in him, but when she looked up, amusement warmed his eyes and a smile curved his lips.
“Jacob.”
“Is that all you can say? Why did you run off, Ellie?”
She couldn’t seem to look away from his gaze. “Welcome home,” she managed from a suddenly too dry mouth.
“No hug or kiss for the returning soldier?”
“Jacob!”
“Oh yes, Ellie,” Krista piped in, snuggling next to her father. “You must give Papa a kiss and a hug, too. He said he needs lots of them for all the days he didn’t have any. I gave him a whole bunch of mine, and Caleb and Thomas did, too. Now it’s your turn.” Beaming a bright smile that seemed to add sparkle to her eyes, seven-year-old Krista tugged her father forward until he stood towering over Ellie. “Go on, Papa. Kiss Ellie hello.”
She heard the thundering footsteps of the boys racing up the stairs, but Ellie wondered if the sudden pounding of her heart didn’t add to what she heard. “It isn’t proper, Jacob.” But the words didn’t make him stop from leaning forward and brushing his lips against hers. His lips were warm, and feather light. The touch hardly lasted a moment, but Ellie felt her toes curl tight in her high-buttoned shoes.
“Later, you and I will talk,” he murmured.
“Y-yes, Jacob.”
“Have you changed your mind?”
“I—”
“Now a hug, Ellie. Papa kissed you, now you give him a hug.”
Ellie raised her arms uncertain where she should place them. Jacob was most helpful. He stepped closer, lifting her arms around his shoulders, forcing her to stand on tiptoe while his own arms encircled her lower back.
“A hug, Ellie. Just a small hug.”
But it was so much more for her. The wool of his uniform jacket wasn’t as soft as she remembered, yet it held the familiar scents that were his. He was more than a head taller than she, and his arms felt like a homecoming to her as he pressed her closer still. Jacob here and safe. Tears welled in her eyes, and she tried to blink them away, tried to keep aware that his daughter watched them. But Jacob rocked her gently, whispering words she could make no sense of, and Ellie allowed herself to have this stolen moment of being held by him.
The boys’ excited voices came from far away, but it was warning enough for Ellie to pull back. She felt Jacob’s reluctance to let her go. A flush brightened her cheeks when he slid his hands over her hips before he stepped back and swung Krista high in his arms.
And not a moment too soon, Ellie thought as Caleb and Thomas rushed in.
“We put his bags in the big front bedroom, Ellie,” Thomas announced, coming along with Caleb to stand on either side of Jacob.
“The front room? But that was your parents’ bedroom, Ellie. I can’t chase you out of your bed.”
“Oh, Ellie doesn’t sleep there. She gave her room to me and Caleb, Krista has mama’s old room, and Ellie sleeps down here.”
Krista held her father’s cheeks, so he had to look at her. “Ellie has the smallest bed, but she lets me curl up with her when I cry at night, Papa, ’cause I miss you.”
“You’ve been happy here with Ellie.”
It wasn’t a question, and Ellie took it as a good time for her to escape. She couldn’t sort out the strange feelings that were unfolding inside her.
“Ellie?” Jacob called, just as she reached the doorway.
“You must be hungry. I’ll set supper on the table.”
“Chicken and dumplings, Papa,” Caleb said, licking his lips. “Our favorite.”
“And biscuits, honey, and butter,” Thomas added, grinning, and looking at Krista to continue their game.
“Carrots and apple cider that I helped press. Now you, Papa.”
“No fair. I didn’t get a chance to peek at the kitchen.”
“Favorites, Papa. Think of all the things you said you missed the most.” Krista added a hug for good measure.
Ellie couldn’t help softly laughing as she ladled the chicken and dumplings into the big soup tureen. If Jacob continued with the list he was giving his children, he would sit and eat for the entire time of his visit. From the pie safe in the pantry, she took both a dried apple pie and a cherry one. The pan was already filled with nuts for roasting later by the fire in the parlor. She quickly grated nutmeg and a bit of the sugarloaf over the buttered carrots before taking the dish inside.
Suppertime was filled with the children’s stories, and Ellie knew Jacob encouraged them to go on, feeding on Krista’s hushed voice telling him about the barn swallows building their nest outside the barn eaves, as much as he did the food. The children seemed to sense the need for laughter, and Caleb told of the day the horses got loose and they all chased them through pouring rain in fields knee-high with water.
“There was Ellie in her papa’s big boots making a grab for Sugar’s halter, when the mare bolted and Ellie went facedown in the mud. She was madder than a wet hen, Papa, but she kicked off those boots and went after Sugar until she led her back to the barn.”
“Ellie lets me help feed the little chipmunks that live by the boulder near the creek, Papa. I got to name them, too,” Krista said, then turned to Thomas. “You tell Papa about the rabbits.”
Thomas glared at his niece’s smug smile and swallowed. He could do nothing about the blush stealing across his cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” Jacob asked, glancing around the table, his gaze fixed on Ellie, expecting an answer.
“It’s best—” Ellie began, coughing and hiding her smile in her napkin.
“I’ll tell,” Thomas said. “I went down to Cripple-bush—”
“That comes from the Dutch, Papa,” Caleb cut in. “It’s a creupel bosch. A place of—of—”
“Stunted trees,” Ellie finished for him.
“Yes, that’s what it is and—”
“Caleb,” Thomas interrupted. “It’s all right, I don’t mind it so much now. Let me tell him what I did.” With a shrug, Caleb nodded. “The Van Dorns had an auction of their farm animals when they decided to sell out. All three of their sons died fighting, and they wanted to go home. I bought Krista two rabbits and told her they were her pets. The others were for me to breed and sell. Mr. Van Dorn made a nice profit selling rabbits to women who had no men to hunt for them, and I wanted to help Ellie.”
“And?” Jacob prompted, leaning back in his chair, unable to understand his brother’s hesitation.
“Oh, he doesn’t want to tell you, Papa, I will,” Krista said. “I named one Lady and the other Miss Oliver, only I thought Lady got sick. She was pulling out her fur and wouldn’t let me pet her, but I didn’t tell anyone ’cause I was afraid Thomas would get mad.”
Ellie rescued them. “Jacob, we discovered that Miss Oliver isn’t a “miss” she is a “mister.” Lady won’t eat if they are apart, and the baby rabbits haven’t stopped multiplying.”
“Haven’t stopped—just how many do you—”
“Oh, Papa, wait till you see them. They’re ever so tiny, like little kittens and so soft. They follow me, too.”
Jacob looked around at each one trying to stifle their laughter. “Ellie? How many?”
“She doesn’t want Thomas to sell them, and his breeding pairs are not producing. It was too late to demand his money back from Mr. Van Dorn. So at last count, for you do appreciate how difficult it is to keep track of constant litters, we think there are about two hundred.”
“My Lord, do you know how many men they would feed!”
Ellie saw the horrified look in Jacob’s eyes before he closed them. Thomas stared at his plate, then pushed it away. Caleb too, understood what his father meant and hung h
is head. Only Krista glanced around, puzzled.
“Papa, I won’t let—”
“Krista, help me clear the table,” Ellie said in a firm voice she rarely used. She could see that Jacob was at a loss to say something to his daughter, and she hurt for him. But the war could not be kept outside these walls, and he wasn’t going to spend his visit denying it was real. “There are men who go hungry and your papa’s job is to feed them, Krista. When farms are destroyed, there is no food from the fields, no animals left to hunt. Now, you know what your papa meant. It wasn’t meant to hurt you, lambkin.”
Krista set the bowl she had taken back on the table, and went around to her father’s side. Sliding her small arms as far as she could around him, she rested her head against his chest.
“I’m sorry, lamb,” Jacob whispered, stroking her back. “I didn’t want to bring the war home with me. I—”
“Have you been hungry, Papa?” she asked.
His gaze met Ellie’s in an agony of indecision. His need to protect warred with the fact that he had never lied to his children. When his brothers died, he had explained to them his own desire to enlist and help end the war no matter how small a role he played. As a soldier, his courage was measured time and again, but faced with his child’s question, Jacob didn’t know if he could answer her. The warmth and encouragement in Ellie’s eyes gave him a quiet strength. Her nod confirmed his decision.
“Yes, little one, I’ve been hungry.”
Knowing Jacob’s pride, Ellie understood what the admission had cost him. Krista’s whispering that he would not be hungry here, Caleb and Thomas joining her to simply hold him close as if they, too, wished to protect him, made a lump form in Ellie’s throat at the unified family picture they made.
Hunger rose inside her to be a part of it. A hunger so deep, it was painful. She barely managed to take the soup tureen into the kitchen. Her resolve not to marry without love weakened in a dangerous manner. She loved Jacob, more for his simple courage.
It was close to midnight when Ellie once more climbed the stairs. Earlier, she had come up to hear the children’s prayers and help them get ready for bed. She left to finish cleaning the kitchen when Jacob gave in to their demands for stories.
The strong protective urge to hush them and let Jacob rest took her by surprise. She knew he was exhausted, but would not thank her for interfering. It had been some time since she had heard him moving around, and she felt hurt he had not come down to say good night.
A single candle lit her way, its carved wooden holder one she would not part with, for it had been a gift from Jacob long ago when he first learned how to whittle. The drafts chilled her in the upstairs narrow hall as the winds picked up and found the small gaps in the blue stone’s chinking. Another repair that needed tending.
Setting the candle down on the chest just inside the doorway to the boys’ room, Ellie shook her head and smiled. Caleb, as usual, hogged more than half of the double bed that had once been her grandmother’s, then Lucy’s. He slept sprawled on his stomach, one bare foot dangling off the edge of the bed. She tucked his leg beneath the thick down quilt, and with a light touch, smoothed back the unruly lock of his hair before she pressed a kiss to his head. Silently wishing him the sweetest dreams, she saw that he was clutching the small wooden horse Jacob made for his last birthday.
With a sigh, she moved around the bed to Thomas, wishing she could get Caleb the pony he wanted for Christmas. Thomas had set his hope on getting a new rifle for hunting, but that too was a gift beyond her means.
Jacob sent almost all his pay to her, but the money went to pay the men hired to work the fields. This year, the corn was high, near ready to harvest when a hailstorm destroyed most of it. There wasn’t enough left for such expensive gifts.
Thomas lay on his side, hugging the edge of the bed. The quilt was pulled nearly to his ears. He no longer gave or received kisses without a great deal of embarrassment, but Ellie could kiss him now while he slept.
Across the hall was the closed door to her parents’ bedroom. She fought the temptation to knock and see if Jacob had everything he needed, or if he, too, was asleep with a quilt half off him. If they were married, she would have the right to enter that room. She could set her candle on the dressing table and unpin her braids, then brush her hair while Jacob waited within the four poster—No! She shook her head, forcing herself to stop envisioning such intimacy with Jacob.
Krista’s door was ajar, and Ellie tiptoed inside, then stopped. Jacob was asleep in her rocking chair with his child cradled within his arms. The faint glow of the candle revealed the smiling peaceful look on Krista’s face, her rag doll tucked between her body and Jacob’s chest. Ellie saw his uniform’s jacket had fallen to the floor, and hesitated before she went closer and picked it up. She rubbed her cheek against its wool, glancing at Jacob. Ellie knew he would have a crick in his neck from sleeping with his head tilted to one side, but she didn’t have the heart to wake him. Placing the candle on the floor, she set his jacket on the bedpost and took a wool comforter to cover them. Staring down at the sleeping child’s face, she had no doubt that Krista’s dream would be sweet this night, for she had her father home.
But once in her own room downstairs, Ellie found she was suddenly restless. The fires had been banked for the night, and she bundled her shawl tight over her night rail and robe as she went into the parlor.
Jacob remained where he was on the stairs, sure Ellie had not noticed him. He went to the doorway, watching her, aware of how much he owed her for not only taking his children into her home so they could remain together, but for the love she had showered on them and his brother.
She stood facing the fire, looking into the flames, and he wondered what thoughts brought a dreamy look to her face. Her hair in its single braid nearly reached her slender hips. His hands curled at his sides as he remembered the brief hold he’d had on her. Jacob couldn’t forget the sweet touch of her lips, or the way she fit perfectly in his arms. It had been a long time since he had been with a woman, but from all he had learned in the talks with his brother and children, Ellie was still an innocent.
He was bound by honor that she remain so. Unless she consented to marry him.
The contrast between Lucy and Ellie came to his mind, and for a few moments he allowed it. Lucy lusted for laughter, for gaiety, and for him. Her passion for living touched anyone who knew her. Ellie was her opposite, soft and quiet, sober in dress and manner … The thought suddenly came that Ellie was passionate, too, in her own way. She had fought his family to keep the children and Thomas together, fought to hold onto both farms, was still fighting him about marriage.
Sap popped, and a shower of sparks had Ellie jump back. Jacob moved to catch her, afraid she would trip on the trailing hem of her robe.
“You’re awake!”
“It would appear so, Ellie.” His hands tightened to hold her upper arms and kept her against his chest. Jacob rested his chin on the top of her head, unconsciously rocking her body with his. “There’s snow falling. I’ve missed the peace to be found in nights like this. The children safe and asleep, the house warm, and the sweet smell of apple wood burning. All that’s missing,” he said softly, stilling her small move to be free, “is—”
“It’s late, Jacob. The boys and I do all the milking now, so I must go to sleep.” Warmth that had nothing to do with the fire heated Ellie’s body. Warmth that came from Jacob’s hands holding her against him, warmth from his deep, soft voice that seemed to stroke her from the inside out. All she wanted to do was to turn and have him hold her. Liar, a little voice whispered. You would love to have Jacob kiss you again.
As aware as she was of his height and masculine presence, Ellie couldn’t help but notice that Jacob’s male scent melded with spicy pine. It was wrong to be here with him this late, alone, and allowing him to continue to hold her. But Ellie couldn’t summon the will to move. It felt right to be here.
“There’s so m
uch I want to say, Ellie. So much I need to thank you for. And I find that I’m at a loss for words. Just holding you is a contentment—”
“Jacob, please, don’t say more.”
“All right. I won’t.” He spun her around in his arms. Ellie didn’t pull away as he expected. She offered no resistance at all. Her gaze was searching and curious. Jacob couldn’t help smiling. “Not frightened?” He waited, but all he heard was the small catch in her breath.
He gave in to the overwhelming need to kiss her. She was woman warm, woman soft, and he had been alone too long. Her sigh when their lips met, sent a shaft of pleasure through him. He kept the kiss chaste, rocking his mouth over hers, and felt the softening of her body. The sweet taste of her played havoc with his good intentions. He forgot this was Ellie, and that she was not his wife, pressing her closer, deepening his kiss until her lips parted. Moments or minutes—Jacob didn’t know. He was hard and aching, and wanted to lose himself in loving her.
Loving her? Ellie? The questions disappeared the second she made a small sound of need.
Ellie found her dreams were pale imaginings compared to the intense pleasure of kissing Jacob. She knew this was wrong. Jacob was tired, lonely, and didn’t love her. She fought with herself, and found the strength to press her hands against his chest to be free.
Jacob reluctantly relinquished his hold on her, and let her step back. It was let her go or pull her down to the carpet before the fire. If he had ever been aroused so quickly or wanted a woman so badly as he wanted Ellie, he couldn’t remember it. More passionate than he believed, he could only look down at her face, his breath coming hard and fast in an effort to restrain himself.
He shouldn’t have kissed her. A fool’s thought. He couldn’t call the kisses back. Didn’t want to. But he had to fight the need to have her back in his arms.
“Ellie, I—”
“Don’t. Not a word,” she whispered, backing away, then turning to run from the parlor.
Jacob followed her into the kitchen. She struck a match, and he saw the tremble of her hand as she lit the lamp. From the top shelf of the corner cupboard, she took down a small jug.
A Time for Giving Page 2