Caleb knew Eliza wanted to talk, to have his attention, by the way she tried to slow their pace. He cleared his throat, buying himself some time while he tried to think of the right thing to say. When nothing came to him, he urged her forward. “Let’s get home. We’ll have more time to talk when I get back.” He knew he sounded gruff, but he was ready for the night to end.
Once they were on the front steps of Eliza’s house, he softened his voice and said, “Take care of yourself while I’m away. I’ll look forward to seeing you when I return.”
She bid him a good night and went into the house, leaving him in the bright moonlight. For no reason at all he walked behind the house and looked at the big tree. Realizing he was looking for Em, he whispered her name into the darkness. He waited but heard nothing. He called out once more. She wasn’t there. He would have plenty of time to think of a proper apology while he was gone.
Twelve
In the two weeks since the social, Em had cut her potato-peeling time in half. From work she went directly home to the Howells’, where she played with the girls and helped around the house as much as she could. Listening to her few coins clang together brought some pleasure. But even the happy noise and gratification that came from living with a purpose were not enough to keep the hours from dragging by.
Margaret often looked at her with knowing eyes, but she hadn’t asked what was wrong. Abigail fussed over her and often inquired if she was sick. Em insisted she was well. Physically she was—her limbs no longer looked like those of a frail bird and her gunshot wound, though still red and rough, was much improved. Her muscles were also strong from days of hard work. She was sick, though, deep in her heart and did not know how to heal herself.
Never had she imagined gossip hurting so badly. The rumors were untrue, but they stung. As she walked through town, she questioned who had heard the rumors. She kept her head down and tried not to look at anyone. Even serving dinner she wondered if all the patrons believed the horrible stories.
Knowing others were whispering about her made it hard for her to walk with her head held high. But more than the rumors kept her awake late into the night. Caleb was gone and, unlike his previous absence, she didn’t know if she should long for his return. He’d been a dear friend, or so she’d thought. But then at the social he’d not even cared enough to say hello. What would he be like when he returned? Would he be a friend to her?
“Have you had time to change the sheets in the upstairs room?” Margaret asked one afternoon.
“I just finished it. I was about to start on the meal preparations, unless you have something else you would rather I do.”
“No. In fact, I was hoping you would be up for a walk. I put soup on the stove earlier. It’s simmering away. The bread is already rising. What I would really love is to get out of the sweltering kitchen. Will you join me?”
“Of course.” Em took off her apron and hung it over the back of a chair.
“I’m glad you agreed,” Margaret said, struggling to untie her own apron. “It’s always nicer having company.”
The two women left their aprons and work behind and stepped out into the afternoon sunshine. And then they strolled side by side like true friends do.
“When I first moved to Azure Springs, there was only one main road. No side streets,” Margaret said as she looked around the town.
“I didn’t realize it’d grown so much.”
“It has. It’s a good place with good people. Sometimes they forget themselves though. These little towns don’t change fast enough for some folks. There are too many ordinary days with nothing remarkable happening. There are always a few people who want something exciting to happen daily just so they’ll have something to amuse themselves with. They loved these robberies and were all abuzz when you came.” Margaret paused.
When Em chose not to speak, Margaret continued. “When I painted my house yellow, the town was in an uproar. Oh, it was great fun. They whispered and pointed. They made up stories about why I would do such a thing. And then one day they stopped talking about it. Guess they realized it was yellow because I liked yellow. That wasn’t much of a story, so they moved on. Some people just haven’t learned the secret.”
Em’s eyebrows rose. “The secret?”
“Yep, the secret. I’ll tell you because we are much the same. Only I have been around longer. Here it is. The secret is that you have to find a way to enjoy life on the ordinary days. You have to enjoy the little things, like yellow houses with bright red doors. You have to enjoy the sound of the door opening when your man gets home. The laughing of little ones. Those things are more fun than gossip, but it takes a trained mind to soak them in. These folks who waste their time talking about you and me, they are the ones missing out. Not us.”
“I may not be much of a gossip, but I’ve also never painted a house yellow. I haven’t done much of anything.” Em wasn’t sure she was all that much like Margaret.
“Yellow may not be your color. Someday you might just paint a house blue . . . or pink. Wouldn’t that get the ladies talking?”
Em pursed her lips. “Perhaps I’ll do that very thing someday.”
“Whatever you do, don’t stop living now just because a few women got to talking about something they know nothing about. You keep your head up and keep living and soon enough they’ll stop talking. In fact, I think you’ll find a friendly face among them before long.” Margaret’s voice sounded so confident, like it really could be possible.
Em looked down the street at the other pedestrians. “I thought I was past caring what others thought. But their words hurt.”
“When we really live, we risk the pain. But you’ll work through it.”
They reached the end of the main street and turned back. Em held her head a little higher.
“Margaret, may I ask you something?”
“You may ask me anything. Absolutely anything.”
“How do you think I could repay the Howells for their kindness? I’ve thought about it and haven’t been able to come up with the right thing. I’d planned to give them money, and I will if that is the only way. But then I’m not sure I’ll ever have enough to leave or live off of.”
“Knowing Abigail, she’ll insist you do nothing. I’ve been indebted to others before for their kindness. I wish there were an easy answer to your question, but I’ve found the answer is different every time. Once a woman took us in when a snowstorm trapped our train. Rather than leave people on board, the townspeople took in families. My husband spent the whole time we were there splitting kindling and fixing porch railings. The Howells are not in need of home repairs and they are not lacking in money. I’ll think on it, but you’re the one who will know the right thing to do.”
“I wish I had more to offer them. I’ll keep thinking.” Em felt ever so grateful for this woman who had remained a friend to her. “Thank you, Margaret. For the job and the friendship. You seem to always have the right words. Lately I’ve felt so lost and alone. Even today walking to the boardinghouse I wondered just how to find my place in this town. Again you have been just what I needed. My prayers seem to be answered by you so often.”
Margaret laughed aloud. Em balked, confused. Finally the laughter stopped and Margaret said, “My little friend, prayers are funny like that. It is easy to see the times others answer our own prayers, but so often we don’t realize we too are the answer to someone’s prayer. When Scarlett married and left, I had so much work to do, but worse than that was how quiet the kitchen was. And then you came knocking on my door like the angel you are.”
Margaret put an arm around Em’s shoulder and pulled her close. The pair walked back to the boardinghouse leaning on each other.
Work passed quickly that afternoon, the hands on the old clock moving at regular speed once again. Em found herself enjoying little things about her work—the sound of the soup simmering and the smell of the fresh loaves of bread. Even the sound of the men scraping their plates made Em smile. No gossip coul
d take those little things away from her.
After her work was finished, Em walked back to the Howells’ with her back straight and her head up. She was eager to take Mae and Milly in her arms and twirl them about just so she could hear them giggle and to watch Abigail sew in the evening light and to listen to the rustle of Abraham’s pages when he turned them. Even Eliza she did not dread being around. Em decided it was better to believe Eliza was good—a good person who just didn’t understand the secret to finding happiness.
Days later Em still found herself smiling. A bit of peace had worked its way into her heart. She no longer cowered from onlookers’ eyes as she passed. Let them say what they would, she knew her own story and they would not steal the measure of joy she’d found.
When Em left the boardinghouse a little after six like she did most evenings, her spirits soared as she thought of her hard day’s work and the coins in her pocket. Thinking of Lucy brought a lightness to her step.
Em looked at the letters on the buildings as she walked. Knowing the sounds the letters made, she had begun putting them together by accident a couple weeks ago while baking with Margaret. Her eyes had found some now-familiar letters as she reached for the tin of baking soda. She made the sound quickly for each letter and then stared at the can. In her mind she heard the word soda. Looking at another can, she made the sounds over and over until they came together to make a word. Some were hard, but she soon knew what all the tins in the kitchen said. Now she was taking on the town and its signs. Caleb would be so proud! Or would he? It had been so long since she had seen him, she wasn’t sure what he would think.
It didn’t matter—not now, not today. What he thought could wait. H-O-T-E-L. She sounded out the letters and put them together. Hotel—another word. Another piece of her freedom.
I read it, Ma. You always said I would be able to. I’m not stuck in the woods anymore. I’m going to find her.
Caleb searched around the base of the tall oak tree. At last he found it. The perfect twig. Sitting back in the tall summer grass, he twisted the thin branch around the others in his hand. Holding it up in the bright sunshine, he inspected his work. Not too bad for his first stick person. Would it make Em smile? Would he get to hear her little bird laugh? Would it bring a tear? If it did, he knew she would bite her lip as she tried to hold back her emotions. Or would she pull her brows together and give him the same puzzled look he’d gotten when they first started reading lessons?
He put the man in his pack and swung himself up into the saddle. A few more hours and he would be back in Azure Springs. These weeks had been rewarding. Two of the three suspects had been apprehended and were on their way to Brigley, where they would stand trial. Only Alroy had evaded capture.
For days they’d followed his trail only to have summer rains wash away any tracks. Caleb wanted to wrap this case up and to know Alroy was no longer a threat to Em. He was ready for it to be over. For now he would have to be content spending as much time in Azure Springs as he could. Once any sign of Alroy surfaced, he would head out again. There was no way he was going to let this case stay open and hang over his head. He would finish it.
The nights on the trail had been a time of reflection for Caleb—hours of quiet, gazing at the stars, often offering up his heart to the heavens. Wondering about and pondering the past. A few wasted moments asking what if. What if his brothers had lived? Would he have followed the same course in life? Did he enjoy what he was doing or was he trying to prove something?
The future hung heavy on his mind as well. He thought of Eliza. Beautiful Eliza. What would a future with her be like? Was that what he wanted? Everything felt so different and uncertain now. For years he’d known the course his life would take, and he had his goals laid out before him. Something had changed, causing him to feel uncertain about his life’s path.
Guiding Amos into Azure Springs as the sun crept low into the sky, Caleb savored the feeling of coming home. As weary as he was, he knew he would not be able to rest a wink if he did not see Em first. But seeing Em likely meant seeing Eliza. Why was he worried about seeing Eliza? After all, he was contemplating courting her. He brushed away the worry as he reined in Amos in front of the Howells’ home.
“Caleb, you’re back. We’ve missed you around town.” Abigail was sitting on the front porch enjoying the setting sun with Abraham.
“I just rode in. I was hoping to see Em and let her know how the ride went,” Caleb said as he dismounted. “If it’s not too late.”
“Not too late at all. My guess is she is up telling Mae and Milly stories. Those two would keep Em all to themselves if they could.” Abigail smiled at him.
“Well, I heard one of her stories once,” Abraham said. “Felt like a little boy again. I’d say that girl has a gift—a great many gifts. She’s a treasure.” Caleb was surprised Abraham had so much to say—and about Em.
Eliza suddenly came through the door. She looked right at her parents, not noticing Caleb. “Mama, Em is up there telling the girls stories. They hang on her every word and don’t even listen when I talk. She’s not even family and she—”
Abigail cleared her throat. Eliza stopped midsentence and looked around. Noticing Caleb, she let out a little squeal. “Oh, Caleb.” Her voice was sweet now, no trace of the venom she had displayed just seconds ago. “You’ve come home—and to see me.”
“I just arrived,” he said, brushing at the dust that clung to his pant legs.
Prancing toward him, Eliza looked ready to jump into his arms. “And you came to see me first. I’m flattered. Oh, now that you are back, we can finally go on our picnic.”
Picnic! He would have to honor his promise. The thought of an afternoon alone with Eliza did not hold its former appeal. Hiding his feelings, he simply nodded in her direction and said, “We’ll have to find a time for our outing. Tonight I’ve come to see Em. I’d like to tell her the news.”
“Surely you want to tell us all your news,” Eliza said.
Abigail stood up and put her hand on Eliza’s arm. “Go and fetch Em. Let Caleb speak to her. He said he needs to. I’m sure he has reasons. He’s home now, and once he’s rested up I’m sure we will all see lots of him. Go on.” The order was gentle but firm.
“Very well.” Eliza walked back into the house.
Caleb hoped Eliza was kind to Em when she fetched her. He couldn’t understand why she disliked Em so. Could she not see Em deserved and needed kindness?
“Eliza was very sick when our boys were. I was so afraid I would lose her,” Abigail said when Eliza was out of earshot.
“I hadn’t realized that. I’m glad she pulled through,” Caleb said.
“We were both so glad. Maybe too glad. We spoiled that girl. We gave her constant praise. Bought her what she wanted. I didn’t have the heart to ever tell her no, not after what she’d been through,” Abigail said as Abraham rose from the chair and stood next to his wife. “We hadn’t realized what we’d done. Not until Em came. No one has ever spoiled her. Seeing the two together. Both the same age.” Abigail reached over and took Abraham’s hand.
Abraham took a deep breath. “We both have seen it. We always said Eliza was just young. But she is no younger than Em. And Em knows how to love others, how to give and work hard. She knows how to be grateful.”
Shifting uncomfortably, Caleb looked at Abigail and Abraham. They loved their daughters. He’d never questioned that—no one would. He wasn’t sure how to respond to such a confession. “I’m sure you’ve done your best.”
“We love our Eliza. Always, always we have and always we will. It just seems you should know a little more about her. She’ll learn. I trust she will. Especially now that we see it and can help her. We’ve prayed nightly to know how to raise our girls. When Em showed up here, we had no idea she’d be such a help to us. We thought we were helping her.” Abigail sighed. “Little did we know. Em has changed so many things, opened our eyes to issues we were blind to.” Tears overflowed from Abigail’s eyes. “I�
�m sorry, Caleb. I’m not sure where that all came from. We’re so happy you’re back and safe.”
Caleb, pushing the toe of his shoe around in the dirt, said, “I’m glad to be back. And I’m grateful Em hasn’t been a burden.”
Silence filled the air, broken only by the sound of footsteps in the house. Em walked through the front door. Caleb felt his breath catch in his chest. She looked different. He stammered a hello, then stood staring at her like a dunce. Why hadn’t he felt this awkward with Eliza? Was it because he knew he owed Em an apology? A long overdue apology.
Abigail, the saint, rescued the moment. “Em, Caleb is going to take you for a walk and tell you all about his trip.”
Finally Em looked up at his face, uncertainty in her azure eyes. “Very well.” Her voice was calm. “I’d like to hear about the case.”
What was he supposed to do now? He knew how to behave but was suddenly unsure of himself. Abraham helped him this time. “Well . . . the sun is getting mighty low. Better take her arm and head on out so you can be back before it’s too dark out.”
Take her arm, that’s right. Caleb smiled at Abraham, grateful for the help, before stepping toward Em and offering his arm. She took it. Her hand tucked in his elbow sent a strange shiver through him. Eliza came to the porch as they turned away from the house. Frustrated pleas to go too echoed behind them. They rounded a corner and her voice faded away.
Alone.
It was his chance to apologize. Stalling, he listened to the sound of distant coyotes waking for the night as they yapped and yowled and distracted him from what he knew he must do.
“I always thought coyotes sounded like women and children screaming,” Caleb said.
“I was twelve the first time I heard them. I was sleeping in the barn at George’s. I felt so afraid,” Em said, and she moved a little closer to him.
Caleb reached across his body and patted her small hand. “I’m sorry you were afraid.” He stopped and mustered his courage. “There was nothing I could have done then. I didn’t know you. If I had, I hope I would have done something. I hope I would have taken you away and given George a piece of my mind.” Wishing he could somehow go back and put it all right, he balled his hand into a fist. Heat rose to his face. “I know you now, though, and I failed you when you needed me.”
The Hope of Azure Springs Page 15
