by Savanna Sage
Chapter 5
“It’s John Haun,” Jesse said. “He’s attacking the wood pile again.”
“Why does he keep doing that?” Ellie asked. Ever since Papa had gone missing, John had been coming around, doing odd jobs at the house. “I don’t like it.” Ellie moved in beside Jesse, who was her same height. She gave him a nudge. “Go tell him that chopping is your chore.”
“If he wants to do it, who am I to interfere?” Jesse replied. “Every man is entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”
“There you go sounding all lawerly again.”
“Law is an interesting profession,” Jesse replied, giving the muslin curtains a flick. “So many people doing so many different things for so many reasons.”
“But he’s trying to get Mama sweet on him,” Ellie replied. “He’s a widower, after all, and now Mama doesn’t seem to believe that Papa’s alive.”
Jesse quirked an eyebrow. “Just as long as Mama doesn’t invite him in to eat any of her chicken, he can chop all day.” He moved to the door. “If you need anything, let me know.”
“Mama told you to stay with me so I don’t get hysterical.”
Jesse grinned. “I’ll fetch your tea so you can get back to normal.”
“Bring me some chicken, too. The rest of me might be injured, but my stomach is fine.”
Jesse gave her a slight nod. “After I fetch Jack home for supper.” He disappeared out the door. “Mama, I’ve got to go,” he called. “Ellie’s not hysterical anymore.”
There was no answer. Then Ellie heard the front door open and close. When she looked out the window, she saw her mother talking to John, smiling and waving her hands. John’s eyebrows were raised about as far as they could go. Was Mama talking about Ellie?
Opening the window, Ellie heard John say, “I thought maybe you were in town.” Ellie’s eyes narrowed. He was trying to convince her mother that he’d come to chop wood when he thought the family was away? With all the commotion and the comings and goings, he had to know they were home from half a mile away.
Linnea tipped her head down slightly and brushed at a strand of hair at the nape of her neck. “That was just Ellie who went to town. I’ve been home.”
“Industrious,” John said with a smile that looked totally inappropriate to Ellie. “A mighty fine quality in a woman.”
This was getting too personal for Ellie’s taste. No one had to look more than two blocks to see that there were more men than women in Rambling. A woman as pretty as Mama was bound to have admirers, but Mama was already married. She should tell this guy, John, that she already had a perfectly good husband.
Ellie put a hand to her forehead. “Mama,” she called in a warbling voice. “My...tea?”
Linnea whirled around, her cheeks pink. “Oh, yes, of course.” She turned back to John. “Excuse me, Mr. Haun.”
“Certainly.”
Ellie watched John watch Mama walk back to the house, and she didn’t like where he was looking.
Ellie hobbled out into the front room. “Mama, he’s far too familiar.”
“What do you mean, familiar? We’ve known him ever since we moved here.”
“He’s too... friendly...with you.”
“Don’t be silly.”
Ellie waited in the silence for Mama to say something else, something about her husband, but when she didn’t, Ellie blurted, “Mama, you haven’t forgotten about Papa, have you?”
Linnea stopped pouring tea, her hand frozen in air as if it had turned to stone. “How can you ask that? I will never forget your father.” She dipped her head and finished pouring, faster, sloshing tea out over the lip of the cup.
“Sorry, Mama,” Ellie whispered. “It’s just that sometimes it seems like you are moving on without him.”
Linnea looked up sharply. “What else is there to do? I wish with all my heart that your father were still alive, that he would come whistling through that doorway again. I’d love to hear his harmonica playing in the evening, having folks drop by for a Saturday dance like they used to. But wishing doesn’t make it so.”
“We don’t know he’s dead,” Ellie said, tears rising in her eyes. “No one ever found his body.”
In a trembling voice, Linnea said, “Indians don’t tend to leave bodies in one piece.”
Ellie fought tears. She just wanted her father back, to have things go back to the way they were. She imagined his laugh, his jolly tunes, how he made the harmonica come alive with music that made a body glad to be breathing, in spite of any aches or pains.
Why did he have to go to the fort? They didn’t need the extra money they offered because the general had heard that Papa was the best musician in the west. Someone else could have played for his concert. There weren’t many who could hold a tune, but there were some.
Now Papa was out there somewhere, still alive she was sure, and Ellie didn’t know how to bring him home.
The possibility of him escaping flashed through Ellie’s mind again, like a spark drifting up from a fire. John Colter managed it by outrunning his captors, bare feet and all. She thought that Papa must be alive, but how could he have managed it when the other men were killed? Had he even been with the wagons when they were attacked? Perhaps he’d taken a horse and gone on ahead to the fort for some reason.
So why wasn’t he back?
Ellie thought of stories her father had told her about how some men left their families after the war and headed west to start new lives without their wives or children. Some men even took on new names, making them free to do as they pleased, with no one to account to but themselves.
Is that what Papa had done?
No. Papa loved them, loved Mama, loved Ellie and his two boys. He would never leave them alone on purpose.
Linnea dropped into a chair at the table and covered her face with her hands. Ellie went to her side and knelt, ignoring the pain of her injuries. She placed her arms around her mother. “I’m sorry, Mama. I didn’t mean to cause you more sorrow.” Mother and daughter cried together until the door burst open and Jesse called, “Look who I found!”
Expecting to see Jack, Ellie turned stiffly, the bruises tightened from her cramped posture. Her eyes widened when she saw Curtis Locken regarding her, his handsome mouth a straight line, his eyebrows drawn down with concern.