by Savanna Sage
Chapter 12
Ellie woke up to the ominous sound of thunder rolling across the sky, a sound that made her chest hurt. Something felt wrong.
She sat up, confused. The gray light seeping around her closed curtain made it look like dusk, but surely it was morning. Reluctantly, Ellie got up and made her way across the room to take a look at the stormy sky. As soon as she caught sight of the tree through her rain-streaked window, she remembered. Someone might have been out there last night. Genuine fear coursed through her again at the memory of the shadow that appeared to stare at her window. But was there really someone there? Or was it something innocent made sinister through her tired eyes?
Hurrying out to the kitchen, she found Jack sitting at the table over a bowl of mush. There was no milk, but the molasses jar was half full. Without turning from the stove, her mother said, “Here’s your breakfast, Ellie,” as she ladled some mush into another bowl.
Jesse burst into the room, snapping his suspenders. “Ah, what a fine day,” he chortled.
His cheer deepened Ellie’s anxiety. “Someone may have been outside my room last night,” she blurted.
Jesse stood stock still for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”
“I wasn’t sure. Besides, I didn’t think you’d believe me.”
“Where did you see him?” Jesse demanded.
“Under the tree,” Ellie said. “Isn’t that the way Indians sneak up on people? In the shadows?”
“You think it was an Indian?” Jesse asked, hurrying across the floor. He yanked open the door and disappeared out into a drizzle of rain. Jack abandoned his breakfast and followed his brother, grabbing a hat from a peg by the door and clapping it on his head before going out. In a few long minutes, they were back, Jesse shaking water drops out of his hair.
“What did you find?” Linnea asked anxiously.
“Nothing,” Jack said, hanging up his hat and sitting back down at the table. “The rain must have washed away the tracks.”
“If there were any,” Jesse said.
Ellie turned away from him.
“It may have been a dream,” Jesse said.
“I wasn’t asleep.”
“Last night we may have been able to prove what you saw, but this morning, there is no evidence.”
“I said I wasn’t sure it was a man,” Ellie said.
“I’m not saying that you didn’t see someone,” Jack said. “I’m just saying that it’s not proven. We can ask around and see if anyone else saw anything. David left about that same time. I can go talk to him.” He sat down and patted a spot on the table next to him. “You should come with me after breakfast, Ellie. He said he wanted to show you something.”
“But it’s raining,” Linnea said
“I’ll dry out,” Jesse announced cheerfully. “I always do. Ellie can bring her parasol.”
“I’d like to stop and visit Polly on our way back,” Ellie said.
Jesse nodded and dug his spoon into his mush. In the company of her family, Ellie’s fears from the night before faded. As she ate, she turned her thoughts to wondering which tools David would have from the new shipment. She was glad Jesse offered to go with her, because she wasn’t about to go alone.
By the time breakfast was over, the wrung out clouds hung like a threat overhead. Jesse didn’t want to bother hitching up the wagon, so Ellie changed into her riding skirt and got on his horse behind him. Remembering her ride the night before, she couldn’t help wondering when she’d see Curtis again.
As they clip clopped across a plank bridge that spanned the river, Ellie was alarmed to see that the water was running high from the night’s rain, rumbling by just beneath the old wooden boards, slapping at the bottom with undulating waves. Jesse didn’t pause until his horse stumbled on a loose plank, which gave way with a loud crack and disappeared into the tumbling brown water.
“Easy girl,” Jesse said, patting his horse’s neck as she danced across the bridge toward the far side. With no railings to keep the horse from stepping off the edge, Ellie tensed and gripped Jesse so hard that he gasped. Finally getting her footing, the horse trotted on, ears twitching nervously until she gained the far bank.
As Jesse urged the horse toward David’s house, which was in view of the river, he said, “Someone ought to repair that bridge. It’s falling apart.”
He pulled to a stop in front a two-story house with a porch that wrapped around two sides. Rows and rows of apple and plum trees just starting to blossom spread out behind the house. The scent was sweet with the promise of a bountiful fall harvest. With intense pink flowering currant bushes and cool white blooms on the elderberry bushes growing wild by the orchard, it was one of the prettiest sights Ellie had ever seen.
Jesse led the horse to the barn while Ellie made her way to the shelter of the Unger’s porch. David was at her side in a moment, a delighted smile on his broad face. “What are you doing here?” he asked. Then his brow crumpled in confusion. “How did you get here?”
“Jesse.”
“Oh.” David’s smile returned.
Jesse strode up to the house from the barn. “Hope you don’t mind me putting my horse in there.”
“Course not,” David said.
“Hey, David, when you left last night, did you happen to notice anyone unusual outside our place?”
“No.” David shook his head, his eyes troubled. “What happened?”
Jesse’s voice took on a teasing tone. “Ellie thought she saw an Indian.”
David’s eyes went wide. “An Indian? At your house?”
“Out back,” Ellie said. “But Jesse doesn’t think so.”
Jesse held out his palms. “All I said was there’s no proof.”
“I don’t like it,” David said, his face growing as stormy as the sky.
“Well, we’ll have to deal with it later,” Jesse said. “Wasn’t there something you wanted to show Ellie?”
“Oh, yes, the woodworking tools.” David’s brow cleared. “They’re in my workshed.”
As David led the way toward an outbuilding, Jesse asked, “Wouldn’t it be easier to harvest orchards like your father instead of fooling around so much with that woodworking stuff?”
“I do help with the orchard, but the fruit’s not ready yet,” David said. “Besides, trees are made of wood, so building furniture with wood is kind of like working in an orchard.”
“Your mother makes the best apple butter I ever tasted.” Jesse glanced toward the house as if he could see the kitchen through the walls, with rows and rows of jelly jars lined up, full of fragrant preserves, the apple butter in front.
“I can make apple butter, too,” David announced, then led them into the shed. They maneuvered between piles of wood slats, buckets of nails, and baskets and crates stacked along one wall.
“You ought to use these to fix that bridge,” Jesse said, pointing at the slats.
“Those are for building fruit crates,” David said. “Papa says we need some thicker slats to fix the bridge.”
“Well, you’d better get on with it. One of the boards knocked loose under my horse on the way over.”
“Did it get hurt?” David asked.
“Not that I could see.”
David nodded solemnly. “I’ll let Papa know.” He took another step, then yelled, “Watch out!” as a little ball of gray fur tumbled past Ellie’s skirts. Startled, she let out a little squeal, which caused an orange kitten chasing after its gray brother to jump and spin toward her, it’s little back arched in a comical curve. Then it darted away again.
“My cat had seven kittens,” David explained, keeping his eyes on the floor as he moved carefully past hammers and saws hanging on the wall. “When she went missin’, I had to feed them all milk until their eyes opened and they could see good enough to drink from a plate.”
“And they all survived?” Ellie asked.
“Yep.” David bent and held his hand out. “I like helpin’ things that needs help.” A black an
d white kitten trotted over to him, brushing its tiny head against his broad fingers. More kittens came tumbling out of their hiding places, mewing as they slid around David’s feet, their tails curving up into question marks. “Did you go and drink all your milk again?” David asked the little balls of fur. “You’re old enough to catch yourselves a mouse, you know. You’re bigger’n them now. You can all gang up on one, even.”
David straightened. “I’ll get you more milk. Just wait a minute.”
When they reached the long workbench on the other side of the shed, Ellie studied a nearly finished wooden chair sitting on top of it. Her gaze was drawn to the straight, smooth legs. If only she could have had a chance to carve them before they were planed down so narrow that there wasn’t much left to work with. She pictured a wooden squirrel climbing up one of them, with the cheerfully round leaves of an Aspen tree carved into another. She imagined a duck taking off from the water to fly up along a third leg, and a fox circling the fourth.
David dug through a new wooden crate, pulling out a slender keyhole saw, a curl scraper, a couple of adjustable wood clamps, and a set of delicate gouges with different sized steel tips, from straight to curved to V shaped. Ellie glanced at the keyhole saw, imagining herself cutting a small hole in a wooden plank, just big enough for a finger to fit. She could turn it into a mountain lion’s mouth or an owl’s nest, just to name a few possibilities. They were pleasant thoughts.
Touching the curl scraper, she imagined what kind of designs she could create with it. She'd like to try it. Her eyes slid over the utilitarian wood clamps and onto the gouges. She couldn’t seem to keep herself from reaching out to touch the octagonal hardwood handle of the nearest one.
“Go ahead. Try it,” David encouraged.
Ellie picked up a gouge, delighted to feel the fine balance in her hand. She put it back down and picked up another, running a finger beneath the cool, hard blade. The shallow curve would be ideal for shaping a smooth eye socket. The v shapes could carve wonderful textures, including fur or hair. There was even a square shaped gouge. Some of them had more shallowly bent tips, while others had deeper shapes. They were all worthy of ownership.
“Here,” David said. “Try it.” Ellie glanced down to see David slide a chunk of wood toward her. As she picked it up and turned it this way and that, she was pleasantly surprised to see the possibility of a train engine within the grain. Touching the gouge against a corner of the wooden block, she pressed it in and felt the satisfying bite of metal into wood. She did it again, and again. Then she picked up another gouge and worked on the wood, feeling it give against the pressure until the metal shaped the beginnings of a train window.
She was so lost in her craft that Ellie startled when Jesse asked, “How long are you going to be?”
She wouldn’t mind spending all day with these tools. She’d already begun the shaping of the cow catcher at the front of the block. It wouldn’t look the same using just her carving knife, but Ellie reluctantly laid the gouge and the wooden block down on the work table. “I can go now.”
“If you want to stay longer, I could come back for you later.”
“That’s a good idea,” David said.
As much as she wanted to lose herself in carving for the rest of the day with David’s new tools, Ellie didn’t want to stay here without her brother. Before she could think of how to excuse herself politely, Mr. Unger called, “David!”
“It sounds like you’re busy right now,” Ellie said, “and I’m sure Mama could use my help at home.”
“Keep it,” David said, pushing the block of wood into Ellie’s hand. “Show me when you’re done.” Then he hurried out of the shed with Jesse and Ellie behind him. Glancing up, Ellie saw clouds bullying each other across the sky.
Ellie wasn’t surprised to see Mr. Unger with his customary big straw hat that overshadowed his eyes in sun or shadow, but she was startled to see none other than Curtis Locken approaching the plank bridge on a his big brown horse with Moses riding along behind him on the black.
Giving his armpit a thorough scratching through his plaid shirt, Mr. Unger said to his son, “Mr. Locken wants to look at that piece of land down by the stream and talk to your mother about her preserves. Why don’t you grab a horse and take him down there? When you get back, then we can do the kitchen stuff.”
David scowled, but headed for the barn. “I’ll go with you and get my horse, too,” Jesse said, falling in step beside his bigger friend.
Ellie turned to see how close Curtis was just as the clouds opened up again and let more rainfall. That’s when she noticed that the river water was running over the top of the bridge. That’s when she saw Curtis’s horse stumble. Hooves scrabbling on the wet wood, the horse gave a terrified whinny as the board beneath it gave way. It fell, throwing Curtis off its back. Arms out in a futile attempt to save himself, Curtis Locken splashed into the rushing river water and tumbled downstream between the banks like a broken puppet.