The Thorn Healer

by Pepper D. Basham

  And she had the sneaky suspicion that getting to know him any more than she already did might be a detriment to her hard-won bitterness... and her terrified heart.

  Chapter Nine

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say there’s a lighter bounce in your step, August.”

  August sent Cliff a cautious grin as they walked down the mountainside toward home. If Cliff Carter had learned one thing about his friend, it was that within August Reinhold beat the heart of a pure optimist.

  “Your cousin’s stare burned a little less than usual. Perhaps I’m growing on her, yes?”

  Cliff chuckled and raised his gaze upward, marveling a little at his cousin’s gentling toward his foreign friend. Cliff had heard enough from his aunt and uncle to know the war stole more from her than her smile. Or her hope. Some German stole a piece of her purity, while another nearly stole her brother.

  “I have to admit, you’ve rattled her, that’s for sure. I don’t think I’ve seen her this distracted since Jake Morris almost beat her at badminton.”

  “Badminton.” August held a plan in his grin.

  “Your thoughts can’t be any good from the looks of it.”

  August’s palms came up in defense. “Nothing to bring worry, good friend. Only some healthy competition?”

  “Well, that’s an idea. She always was one to like a good challenge, especially against the boys.” Cliff shook his head and followed August out of the shelter of the forest. “Seemed to have a constant need to prove herself.”

  “Did many boys wish to court her?”

  “Court her?” Cliff couldn’t reign in his waiting laugh. “The poor boys were terrified of her. A few of the younger ones she tutored spent a whole lot of time moonin’ over her in secret, but actually tell her about it? No doin’. She’s not exactly the warm and cuddly sort.”

  August kept silent, slowing his pace as they entered the clearing of the Carter farm. “I see a lot of warmth. She cares for Jude.”

  As shocking as it seemed, maybe that little boy and newborn were exactly what his cousin needed. Something to distract her from the wounds festering inside—to draw her out of her pain.

  Her gentleness with Jude during the funeral and the way she carefully went through the house with him to make certain he collected anything he wanted to take—even an old rope his father had used to teach Jude how to tie knots—showed the Jessica he’d known from years ago. She’d never rushed the boy, allowing him time, Scraps at his heels, carefully gathering up as many treasures as he and Jessica could carry.

  Despite her spitfire personality, she’d always given with an enormous amount of generosity and patience. Cliff always thought that was why nursing suited her so well. Underneath the sometimes brash, prickly façade beat the heart of one of the most loyal, tenderhearted, and strong people in his life. “I saw it too, and I reckon if she’s going to be his mama now, he couldn’t be in any better hands. Once she cares, it’s somethin’ fierce.”

  August paused, tilting his head a moment as if digesting the statement.

  Now, if Jess could find it in her heart to care for a foreigner like August? Cliff scratched his head. He wasn’t too sure, but she couldn’t do better. Over the past eight months since Cliff started working as a camp guard, their acquaintance had grown into a real friendship. The man lived a life of consistency and kindness, and though he didn’t shove strength on people like Jessica did, there’d been enough times in the camp where August’s quiet strength forged an unshakeable line between right and wrong.

  But even with August’s immense patience and determination, did he really have a chance with Jessica? Was it possible to break down the bitterness barring her in? Despite his cousin’s generosity, she could hold a grudge better than January held onto winter. Cliff wasn’t ready to enter that discussion just yet, for August’s sake alone. “What do you think of Colonel Ames’ visit?”

  “The colonel makes predictions I do not wish to hear.”

  “August.” August looked up, his usual grin gripped into a frown. “You’ve known all along that you and your countrymen wouldn’t stay here forever.”

  “I had high hopes we would outlast the war. Then I would be free to live wherever I chose.”

  Cliff shoved his hands into his pockets and steadied his gaze on his friend. “Maybe after the war ends, you can find your home here, but unless it ends within the month—”

  August raised a palm to still Cliff’s words. “I know, friend. I know.” They came to the pebbled walkway to the cottage door in silence.

  What were they doing at Anna’s Cottage? Cliff adjusted the collar of his shirt and stared up at the place in which he’d passed many childhood hours with Jessica and David. As an only child, they’d become his playmates, his adopted siblings. It was a familiar and beloved home, even though it still carried the sadness of his aunt’s death within its walls.

  But now it also held a dangerous flicker of something Cliff hadn’t experienced since his wife died... and he wasn’t too sure what to do about the clawing in his stomach and sweat on his palms.

  A vision of gold and lavender appeared at the window and then disappeared, only to rush from the doorway like a cherub in a spring garden. Sylvie Fischer ran directly into August’s arms, her giggle lighting up Cliff’s heart with an internal squeeze of bittersweet. His own little girl wouldn’t have been quite as old as Sylvie, if she’d survived, but Cliff imagined her glowing with the same childish joy.

  Sylvie placed her palms on each of August’s cheeks, clasped him close, and planted a kiss directly on his lips.

  “You want tooties?” Her little voice lilted, the words muffled with a strange intonation Cliff had learned to understand. Cookies.

  “Of course,” came August’s ready reply. “Apfel cookies, perhaps?”

  Sylvie tilted her head, her curious eyes examining her uncle’s mouth, her mind working out his words. “Ja, apple and timmamon too.”

  Apples and cinnamon could not be as sweet as Sylvie Fischer.

  Sylvie peeked over August’s shoulder and bestowed a dimpled smile on Cliff. His smile immediately responded. “Mr. Tarter, you want tooties too?”

  Her mispronunciation of Cliff’s name drew a soft palm landing over his heart to keep the feeling close. “I love cookies.”

  Sylvie watched his face and seemed to understand because she hopped out of August’s arms and ran back into the house.

  “That girl.”

  August nodded. “She steals hearts everywhere she goes.”

  “I understand you want some cookies?” Anna Fischer poised in the doorway, her long honey-colored hair in a thick braid over the shoulder of her blue dress, the same color blue as her eyes.

  Cliff swallowed through the lump growing in his throat when her gaze landed on him, her smile tilting in such a way his heart stumbled into a drumroll. “You too, Cliff Carter.”

  He fumbled through removing his hat and followed August into the cottage.

  “She likes you.”

  Cliff frowned at his friend’s teasing glint. “I’m gonna pretend you just spoke in German and I didn’t understand a word.”

  August chuckled. “I think you have an excellent chance to win her.”

  Cliff lowered his voice to a whisper as they entered the house. “You can start giving romance advice when this whole scheme of yours with my cousin works out.”

  “Standing in the doorway whispering is a bad habit, gentlemen.” Anna’s voice pulled Cliff’s attention to the kitchen, where she stood with a plate of cookies and a look just as sweet.

  For three years, memories and regret kept Cliff’s heart buffered from the tow of attraction... until Anna Fischer moved into town with her adorable daughter. It was like waking up from a foggy dream, his senses dulled by grief, but then she arrived, following her brother into the wilds of the Blue Ridge Mountains. And somehow... right into his life.

  He couldn’t help but notice her. She lived at his aunt and uncle’s farm, a place
that’d become as much home to him since his daddy’s death five years earlier, and was sister to an internee who Cliff claimed as friend.

  And she was elegant and beautiful. Like sunlight. Cliff cringed at his glossy thoughts.

  “I met your Miss Ross.” Anna offered the plate to August, her slender brow slanted at a teasing tilt. “You are either brave or crazy.”

  A laugh shocked Cliff’s shoulders at Anna’s blunt response. “I’ve told him the same thing.”

  Anna shared a smile with him and it somehow lit a fire through his chest. “He is a stubborn sort, here.” She tapped her forehead. “Hard-headed.”

  “But soft-hearted,” August interjected, taking a seat and gesturing toward one for Cliff.

  “Mind that soft heart of yours, brother. I would not see it broken.” Anna waved a cookie at him in reprimand.

  It was the most adorable thing Cliff had seen in a long time. Yep, he was a lost cause.

  “Now, I don’t think Jess would ever try to break your heart. She’s not mean. She’s just...” Cliff pinched his lips closed and thought. “She’s a little prickly, but her heart’s in the right place most of the time.”

  “I see that.”

  “She gets it honest, Mrs. Fischer.” Cliff took a cookie from the plate, trying to keep his attention away from those interesting eyes of hers. “Our whole family is a little rough around the edges until you get to know us.”

  “Anna.” Her correction pulled his gaze right into hers and the cookie got stuck in his throat. “You may call me Anna. You’ve been coming by with August for four months now. Don’t you think we can be friends?”

  He looked away from her pretty face right at August’s grin. Four months of sheer emotional torture. He should win an award or something. “Yes, of course, thank you, Mrs...” Heat exploded in his face. “Anna.” The name, spoken aloud, somehow fumbled up the rest of everything else he thought about saying. He stood to his feet and cleared his throat. “But I need to get back to the camp.” He lifted the remains of his cookie in the air. “Thanks for the cookie.”

  Sylvie caught him on the way to the door, her tiny hand grasping his. “You need mil with your tootie, Mr. Tarter.”

  He bent to one knee so the little angel could watch his face. “Not today, Sylvie.” And then he lost complete control of his senses and placed a finger to her soft little cheek, right beneath her dimple. “Maybe next time.”

  She rewarded him with a brighter smile and his air strangled in his lungs. Was he brave enough to risk his heart again? On both of them? He’d barely survived the first loss, turning to liquor instead of God as an escape. But now? After the years and the healing? Was he strong enough?

  He looked up long enough to get caught in Anna’s fascinating eyes once again—beautiful, tender, offering him a second chance. His heart pounded behind his ribs. He nodded another goodbye and turned.

  “Cliff, wait.” August ran out the door after him, his smile a bit too bright for Cliff’s comfort.

  “I can’t stay right now, August. I’m this close to turning into a blubbering mess in front of your sister.”

  “Then why don’t you end your suffering and make your feelings known?”

  Cliff glanced back toward the cottage and lowered his voice. “It ain’t right for a brother to try and get a man to start sparkin’ his sister, August. If you knew the thoughts goin’ on in my head, you ought to be runnin’ me off with a shotgun.”

  August tapped his head. “Intelligent. When the right man for his sister arrives, then he should encourage this sparking. She’s had many heartaches too.”

  “I just don’t know...” The admission caught in his throat. “I don’t know if I’m ready to try.”

  “Would you let fear keep you from finding love again?”

  “When you hold your wife and baby in your arms and watch them slip away to a place you can’t reach? No matter how strong you are or how hard you pray?” The ache swelled up in his chest as the memory gripped him. “It makes a man realize how weak and powerless he is.”

  “It also shows the capacity for great love.”

  Cliff shook his head. “The painful kind.”

  “The only kind.” August’s gaze bore into Cliff’s, urging him to step out into the frightening unknown. “God will be your strength, and perhaps you are the one my sister has been praying for these years since her husband’s death. She’s known loss, but she has not known love.”

  Cliff ran a palm down his face and growled. August’s declaration stung with truth and hit Cliff’s attraction to Anna on target. “You sure are persistent, you know that?”

  “Yes, and I am right.” August’s eyes glinted with mischief. Cliff braced himself. “I have a good wager for you, friend.”

  Cliff rubbed his forehead and looked back at the cottage, the slightest scent of hope burrowing beneath the fear. “I’m afraid to ask.”

  August’s grin tipped higher. “When I win your cousin’s heart, you will spark my sister.”

  Cliff almost chuckled at August’s misuse of the word ‘spark.’ “When? You’re pretty confident.”

  “I believe it is right too.” He shrugged and put out his hand for Cliff to take. “Besides, it’s no hardship for me. It has been my plan all along. You just need a nudge to take the risk, ja?”

  “I ain’t making no promises, August.” He took the man’s hand. “But I’m certainly looking forward to watching what Jess thinks of your plans for her future.”

  ***

  Jess peered into the small room from the doorway. It used to be her brother David’s room, with its yellow and white striped wallpaper and large window overlooking the forest. Jude sat on the white, rod-iron bed, dim lantern-light casting a glow toward the book he held in his lap. The dressing gown Granny had given him hung loose on his thin frame, shrinking him a few years.

  It’d taken her an hour to convince him to take a tub bath, but now, with his hair still damp from the water, curls formed and framed his forehead. He was so young yet stoic in the face of his loss. Jess clutched the doorframe and lifted her eyes heavenward, the sudden weight of responsibility sending a tremor through her.

  “Did you find a book to read?”

  Jude looked up, his usual somber expression in place. “Mr. Carter let me read his book on animals and places.”

  Jess stepped into the room, knowing the book. One of her childhood favorites, with colored pictures of all sorts of animals and their habitats. As a child, Jess marveled at the great variety of wildlife but even greater scope of the world. She placed her hands on the railing at the foot of the bed. “I remember that one. Have you gotten to the desert pictures yet?”

  A faint glimmer of interest lit his eyes. “The one with that big ol’ lizard?”

  Jess moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his interest fueling her conversation. A little boy waited beneath all of the heartache and responsibility of a grown man. “Exactly. Have you seen the one of the tiger yet?”

  His eyes grew a little wider and he shook his head, holding the book out to her.

  “Oh, you’ll love that one.” She flipped through the pages and finally landed on the right one, turning the book so Jude could see. “And in the background you can see a deer.”

  “I bet the tiger is gonna eat him.”

  “I bet so too. Did you know tigers are one of the few types of cats who actually like to swim?”

  “Really?”

  A sweetness stilled over Jess’ concern at this connection and the ability to bring this wounded little boy out of his shell. “Something else... look on this page.” She turned to the following page and pointed toward the giant, gray animal displayed there.

  “What is that?”

  “An elephant.”

  He pulled the book close and stared at the picture in silence.

  “My old teacher, Miss Kraft, said that elephants give themselves baths by pulling water into their trunks and then spraying it over their bodies.”

  His lips cur
led into a grimace. “Like a giant sneeze?”

  Her smile loosed. “A clean sneeze. Just water. Like the bath you had today.”

  Jude looked down at the sleeves of his dressing gown. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so clean afore.” He ran a hand over the quilt covering his legs. “And soft. I reckon Mama would have loved a bed like this.”

  Jess hesitated before covering the little boy’s hand with her own. “I’m sure she’s glad you have the chance to sleep in one.”

  He examined her a moment, the lantern light playing off of his face. “You think so?”

  Jess heart squeezed to the point of pain. “Mamas should always want good things for their children.”

  “So that’s why mama picked you for my new mama.”

  The statement, uttered so innocently, seared through Jess’ defenses like lightning through a dark sky. Mama. The word cradled such tender memories for her, a woman of courage, strength, and grace, who won the heart of an Englishman while studying abroad. But Jess wasn’t like her. Gentle? Gracious? Strong? She almost scoffed. The hard edge around her personality before she left for war had sharpened and thickened with the harshness of life. Was the joyful dreamer still buried beneath the scars somewhere?

  Jess patted Jude’s hand and then stood. “I’ve never been a mama before, so I have a lot to learn, Jude.”

  He shrugged and offered her a lopsided grin. “That’s all right. I’ve had a mama before, so I reckon I can help you with your learnin’.”

  The tenderness and compassion of her own mother proved a sweet example too. Warmth swelled in Jess’ eyes. “I reckon you can.” She stepped to the lantern, dulling the wick into darkness except for the pale glow of moonlight flickering into the room. “First order of mom-business is bedtime, I guess.”

  His lips twitched into the smallest smile in the night’s glow. Jessica’s responded to the tiny victory in this overwhelming learning opportunity. “Well, I reckon you got the bath time part right too, ʼceptin’ I got my whole body in a tub instead of just a cloth. I should be clean for a whole week.”

  Jess’ smile spread wide to still the internal laughter growing with a surprising warmth inside her. In her experience, little boys rarely stayed clean for a day, let alone an entire week.