By the time he laid eyes on her, the hammer was already becoming acquainted with his forehead.
Chapter Nine
“Katie Ellen, where are you?” On his knees, Josiah lifted the quilt hanging off the bed for a second look into the shadows. He’d told her to stay in the house, but was he really surprised to find she’d thought of a better idea? “Katie Ellen, come on out! I’ve got to talk to you!” He waited, listening for any response, but the house was empty. Before he turned to exit the room, something caught his eye.
The floorboards creaked beneath his boots as he reverently eased to the windowsill. Could he believe what he was seeing? Two geodes sat side by side, one rolled up against the other. He hadn’t left them like that. No, last he saw, she’d parted them. What did it mean?
He had to find her.
If she wasn’t in the house, then surely she’d holed up in the barn. He jogged out the front door, anxious to ask her and maybe pick up where they’d left off. And now that he and Silas understood each other . . .
The barn door was open. He ran through, but her name died on his lips at the sight of Silas sprawled out on the floor with a bloody face. Where was Katie Ellen? All his misgivings of Silas returned, but no, it couldn’t be.
“Josiah!” Her cry filled the barn. He spun on his boot looking all about.
“Where are you?”
“You’re alive! When he returned alone I thought . . . I thought . . .”
Josiah followed the sound of her voice up, up, up . . . How in blazes did she get up there?
Silas groaned. His foot rolled to the side and bumped against a hammer.
“What happened to him? Why are you up there? I told you to stay in the house.”
“You think this is my fault? You sent him in here alone. What was I supposed to think?”
Josiah scratched the back of his head. “You did this? How?” But then he followed the line from the hammer, to Silas’s bloody forehead, up to her perch. “For crying aloud. . . .” He knelt beside Silas, who wasn’t moving at all. “Get down here.”
“Is it safe?”
“Do you think I would’ve brought him back if I didn’t trust him? And now you pert’ near killed him.”
“Well, you left fearing for your life and then he comes back alone—”
“If you would’ve been where I told you to wait—”
“Under a bed? Yeah, no one would think to look there.” Even hugging a beam thirty feet above his head, she still thought she’d won the argument.
“Come down.”
She pulled back a lock of hair that was dangling in her face. “I can’t. Not until you lift the sling up to me.”
Her and her blamed contraptions. Silas’s chest rose and fell in a somewhat regular pace. Nothing Josiah knew to do for him anyway. Stepping over him, he took ahold of the rope and walked it down until the sling smacked into the brace. He moved to the left, positioning the sling beneath her, but still didn’t like the looks of the gap. One off-kilter move and that sling would lurch catawampus, dumping her out.
“I really wish it were me climbing down instead of watching you do it.”
“I got myself up here; I can get myself back down.” Wrapping her arms around the square beam, Katie Ellen slowly slid to one side. White petticoats and pantalets flashed. Now her legs hung down, her brown boots fishing for the sling beneath her. He tensed, trying to pull the sling closer, but it was at its full height.
“I can’t find it.” Her words sounded wrung from her lungs.
Josiah’s stomach twisted. Helpless. He felt so helpless. But hadn’t God worked out everything with Silas? He had to trust that this would work out. “Katie Ellen, you’re going to be fine. You can do this.”
“Shut up! You’re just saying that because you think I’m fixing to die.”
He wrapped the rope around his forearm again on account of his hands getting sweaty. “You’re going to be fine. I’ve got you. You can let go.” He braced himself as her hands slipped away from the beam.
She fell and landed into the sling without so much as a peep. Josiah lowered that sling a mite faster than was prudent, only remembering at the last moment to move it so Silas wasn’t further accosted. She lay on her back, hands gripping the side like a hammock. Her head might have bounced a little, but he was in a hurry to get to her, so she shouldn’t be too particular. He rustled through the canvas until he found a boot, but she wriggled out of his grasp and crawled out the other end on her hands and knees.
“Is he dead?” She asked.
“You better hope not.”
A red line stretched from Katie Ellen’s forehead to jaw, a souvenir from that beam. Noticing his gaze, she rubbed it ruefully. “What do you mean bringing him back?”
“Me and him had a good talk, and you won’t believe what he told me.” She looked skeptical. “He’s a preacher man, Katie Ellen. A circuit rider. He heard the commotion in the kitchen when you dropped those greens—that’s why he came in. When we didn’t have our story straight, he thought we were up to no good and tried to get his bluff in on us. That’s all.”
With one eyebrow raised, she crossed her arms. “A bluff? Like breaking the window and catching the sofa on fire?”
“Naw, those were accidents. He didn’t mean no harm. He helped me, in fact. The hill was all washed out. I lost my footing and nearly fell, but he caught me and saved my neck.”
“What about the gun under his coat?”
“It’s a Bible. He let us go on thinking he was armed just in case we meant him trouble.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”
“Tell him what?”
“That we aren’t married?”
Josiah shrugged. “What’s it matter? He’ll get a good laugh over it.”
Katie Ellen pressed her hand to her forehead. “You can’t tell him, Josiah. We spent the night in the same room. He’s a man of God. He’s supposed to be opposed to such carryings-on.”
“I’m sure he’ll understand.”
She grabbed him by the arm. “Next thing you know we’ll be used in a sermon as an example of the depravity of our generation. All over Hart County people will be speculating on who the brazen young woman was who’d shacked up while her parents were trying to find her a decent husband.”
“That’s enough, right there. I’m going to make a more than passable husband.”
Releasing him, she took a step back. “Are you proposing to me, Josiah Huckabee?”
“No, I’m not.” His jaw hardened. “I’ve got a parson that you done clocked in the head with a hammer to attend to. You wait your turn.”
Katie Ellen hurried ahead of Josiah to open the door for him as he made painful progress across the barnyard with Silas’s arm thrown over his shoulder. The man seemed to know where he was, but he’d never been extremely coherent, so they couldn’t be certain. Either way, without Josiah’s support he’d be facedown in a puddle. And it had started to rain again, the brief sunshine only teasing them with what they’d lost.
She bustled into the house, surprised again by the monstrous pile of charred sofa bones. She’d worked so hard to get her parents to let her stay alone. . . . Running to the bedroom, she pulled the quilt off the bed and spread it on the floor in front of the fireplace, wishing she had an oilcloth. Looked like she’d be dabbing bloodstains out of the quilt, but she’d try not to let it bother her. Compared to the mess in the center of the room and the mud the two men tracked in as they made their unsteady way, it wasn’t her biggest concern.
Josiah deposited his groaning load onto the floor.
Silas peered up at her with one bewildered eye. “I don’t know what happened,” he said, “but there’s an angel in heaven who’s the spitting image of you. I done saw her flying over me as I walked the valley of the shadow.”
Katie Ellen bit her lip. Josiah propped his hands on his hips. “You took a nasty hit on the forehead, Parson. Your memories are likely muddied.”
“I remember you trying to kill yourself going down that hill,” he said. “Wish you weren’t so upset about the sofa. I’ve already got folks to bury. Don’t want to put another under until it’s his time.”
Again with the dark talk, but now knowing his vocation, it didn’t threaten as it had before. Katie Ellen hurried to fetch a compress dipped in witch hazel. Smoke lingered in the kitchen. She threw open the shutters to clear the air and banish the fog in her mind.
Josiah hadn’t died, which created horrendous complications in regards to that kiss. Only because of the circumstances—the unbelievably intense and distressing circumstances—had the event been allowed to transpire. But wasn’t she trying to change? That meant giving him another chance. That meant being vulnerable. That meant living with the consequences, however unintended. But maybe . . . just maybe he wouldn’t change his mind this time.
Wringing the rag over the sink, she returned to the men and did what she did best . . . cleaned up the mess.
Chapter Ten
Not being afeared of Silas took some getting used to. But so did trying to line up his thoughts with Katie Ellen dancing around so close. Pretending to be married to save your life was one thing, but lying to a parson was a pup of a different color. Josiah didn’t like it. Still, he could see that Katie Ellen’s argument made sense to those of the feminine persuasion. His ma would die of shame if it went round about that he and Katie Ellen had spent the night alone. The salt had already been sown. No use in trying to dig it up now. Besides, this Silas preacher would think naught of staying with a married couple. Soon he’d be on his way out of their neck of the woods and no one would be the wiser.
Katie Ellen brought him the rag, but she skittered away quick as a stray kitten. Josiah surveyed the cabin from the boarded up window to the pile of ashes and water.
“Let’s put him in the bedroom.”
“Which bedroom?” She blinked rapidly.
“Our bedroom.”
“And let him ruin—” She stopped. Her neck tensed as she forced the words out. “If you think it best, dear husband.”
Josiah blinked. If it weren’t for the rumbling hunger in his stomach, he’d have to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. What new devilment had she devised for him?
“I’m fine.” Silas propped himself up on his elbow, with one hand holding the rag to his forehead. “But let’s cut down on this chin music. You two are giving me a headache.”
Josiah’s head was about to burst, too. “Er . . . wife. I need to talk to you again. Privately.”
Katie Ellen’s eyes widened and her face turned red. “If you think it’s necessary, I’ll talk to you. But only if that’s what you really want.”
“Look at you’uns,” Silas said. “You don’t trust each other past howdy. There’s a lid to fit every skillet, but you two sure were matched wrong from the beginning.”
“It’s been a trying day on Mrs. Huckabee, so don’t judge her too harshly,” Josiah said. Katie Ellen lowered her eyes and picked at her fingernail.
“Well, I’m truly repentant for my role in this mess, but I’ve got to say you had problems before I walked up. I haven’t heard a kind word out of either one of you. Would it rip your tongue up to say something nice to your husband?” Silas peered at Katie Ellen from beneath the wad of cloth held against his forehead.
Now her cheeks turned scarlet. She rubbed her hands together, twisting them ruthlessly. Her mouth closed in a firm line and she shook her head. For once Katie Ellen was silent.
He wasn’t going to put her on the spot! She might’ve decided to give Josiah a chance, but she certainly wasn’t going to be the first one to draw.
“You behave more like enemies.” Silas sat up, a long procedure involving a generous amount of grunting and creaking. He scooted backward until he reached the fireplace hearth and had them both in view. Scrubbing a dried spot of blood off his coat, he pulled his legs against his chest and got comfortable. “So how’d you two come to get hitched, anyway?”
Josiah looked to her. No, sir. This whole fib had been his idea in the first place. She rolled off her knees and sat on the floor next to their arson parson. “Do tell him, husband. I love this story.” She waited, her curiosity outweighing her desire for pretended conjugal devotion.
Josiah’s eyes turned thoughtful. For a moment she thought he’d forgotten the question, but then with a sigh he began. “Asking Katie Ellen to marry me was the culmination of a lifelong campaign.”
At the earnestness of his reply, Katie Ellen’s neck grew warm. She ducked her chin and straightened her skirt. “He doesn’t want your life story. Just tell him the truth. You know, how you brought me flowers and I said yes. Something easy like that.”
“But it wasn’t easy, was it?” Josiah kicked up a knee and crossed his arm over it. He let his eyes trail over her in a most possessive manner before beginning. “You see, Silas, I’d been sweet on Katie Ellen for as long as I can remember. Most of our growing-up years I took to pestering her because I didn’t have any more sense than that. And then when I was fifteen I figured I was finally man enough to do something about it. We were at the church picnic and I caught her at the well and kissed her—kissed her good.”
Katie Ellen hopped to her feet. “Honestly, Josiah.” He couldn’t tell Silas the truth. If Silas knew how Josiah felt about her, then their ruse would be over.
“Sit down,” Silas ordered.
To her surprise, her knees folded and she dropped down on her rump.
“Go on.” Silas produced a knife from his boot and began picking at his teeth with it.
Josiah took the frayed hem of his britches between his fingers as he spoke. “Well, that kiss done settled it to my thinking. Katie Ellen was my girl and would be forever, but there was one thing I wasn’t counting on—my pa.”
She could feel his gaze, but she couldn’t look his way. Was this true or was he mocking her? She hadn’t counted on her heart getting tied up in this foolishness, but now she realized how much depended on his answer.
“My pa saw me at the church building, and he had right stern words for me. He told me that Katie Ellen was his good friend’s daughter and I wouldn’t lay a hand on her again until I could make a bona fide offer of marriage. Then he spelled out for me how much I’d have to do to be able to support a wife. I’d need property of my own, and most of all I’d need to grow up enough to realize that one didn’t take advantage of a young lady as special as Katie Ellen.”
For the first time in her life, Katie Ellen had no idea how to respond. She should be angry . . . furious . . . that he was telling this man about the most tender moment in her life. She should hate him for spinning up excuses for his behavior, but she couldn’t help but wonder—what if he was telling the truth?
“Then came the real test,” Josiah said. “Ma got sick, and here came Katie Ellen to spend every day helping out about the house. It was more than I could take, especially with Pa breathing down my neck. I had to make myself scarce or I knew I’d be stepping out of line. But I don’t think Katie Ellen understood.”
“Let her speak for herself,” Silas ordered. He pushed back his long hair to peer at her. “You were put out with him, weren’t you?”
She blinked, trying to hold back frustrated tears. This wasn’t fair. Throat tight and still sore from the smoke, she finally choked out, “He could have said something at the time.”
Josiah leaned forward, his eyebrows pinched together. If her eyes weren’t already smarting, his concerned look would have sprung them. “I could have. . . . I should have, but instead I threw myself into following Pa’s advice. I kept my job at Isaac’s sale barn and made extra money rounding up cattle for people who didn’t have time to drive them into town themselves. Then I took my wages and bought cattle of my own. I’ve got a nice little . . .” He shot an uncertain look toward Silas. “. . . we’ve got a nice little herd because of those investments.”
She had to think of something else or she’d be undone.
Constructing a new cider press. Yeah, she could plan that while Josiah talked himself blue in the face. Then she wouldn’t have to listen to him.
Silas grunted as he checked the end of his knife to see what he’d produced. Then pointing with it he said, “But you ain’t told me how you convinced her to marry you. Sounds like she’s still sore over it.”
“Katie Ellen has a hard time forgiving.” No plans could’ve kept her from hearing that. Seeing that he had her attention again, Josiah continued. “Once I started getting my ducks in a row, I thought I’d just announce to Katie Ellen that I was ready to recommence our courting, but she wasn’t having none of it. She wanted nothing to do with me.”
“How’d you get around that?” Silas asked.
In a daze, Katie Ellen repeated, “Yeah, how’d you get around that?”
Here, Josiah faltered. “I . . . ah . . .” He took a charred sofa leg and tapped it against the floor. “Some things are meant to be private.”
Oh, were they? Katie Ellen snapped to attention. He’d already done his kiss-and-tell. He wasn’t going to stop now.
“You can’t leave him in suspense,” she said. “Go on and tell him how you crawled on your knees to my window. How you sang me that song . . . what was it? ‘I’ll Take You Home Again, Kathleen.’ Tell him how you said you couldn’t live lessen I married you.”
His face lit up. “Sounds like you want to tell him, so go right on.”
He hadn’t planned on spilling his guts like that. No longer could Josiah pretend that these were falsehoods that had been churned up just to save their lives. No, that story was the gospel truth, but did Katie Ellen believe him? Believe in him?
Her voice started low. “Josiah begged for my hand. Every evening he stood outside my window and serenaded me on his juice harp.”
He lifted his eyebrow. A juice harp? Not a pretty picture.
She continued. “He made such a nuisance of himself that Pa ran him off. Told him he couldn’t court me until he’d made sure that no other gal in the hills wanted him.”
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