Several dropped beside her. She took her time picking out the ones she wanted. “And the strips of cloth?”
Seth peeled off his shirt and tore it into narrow shreds.
She smiled. “Thank you.”
She hadn’t even started with the splint when the doctor strode into the camp. He stopped next to Tom, his eyes taking in the sticks and bandages before sending a scowl toward Emma.
“What have you done?” Anger rumbled in his voice. He waved his hand. “Get back and let me check the damage.”
Emma scrambled out of the way as the doctor knelt. Caleb wavered on whether he should stand up for Emma. Doubts of her abilities tore at his insides. What if she really did hurt Tom more than the tree limb? But still …
“I let her work on him, Dr. Haffey.”
“Quiet, please.” He took his time checking Tom’s pulse and assessing the injuries. Eyebrows raised, the doctor peered at Emma. “You do all this?”
“Yes, sir.”
She sounded scared, her eyes wider than those of a cornered cat.
The doctor nodded, one corner of his mouth curling. “Well done, young lady. You a nurse?”
“N–not exactly. I grew up with a doctor and learned a lot.”
The doctor’s smile faltered. “Yes, well, watch that head wound while I finish with this arm.”
Emma’s next breath came out in a rush. Caleb wondered how long she’d been holding it. She scooted toward Tom.
“Whenever you get tired of working for this young rooster”—Dr. Haffey gestured toward Caleb with his thumb—”maybe you’d consider working for me.”
Emma’s face flamed, though her smile revealed her pleasure. As she kept pressure on Tom’s wound, Caleb’s estimation of her rose faster than his high climber could scale a branchless tree. He already couldn’t get her out of his mind. Now she’d be embedded deeper than the roots of the tallest pine.
Chapter 5
A week had passed since Tom’s accident, and Emma still couldn’t keep the smile from her face. She wasn’t much for humming tunes like Doc always did, but a song escaped from time to time, especially now that she was working closer to the mansion. Granted, she wasn’t in the house yet, but her new job of organizing the outside storage shed smelled better than the men’s quarters.
Caleb caused the change by talking to his mother, something Emma still groused about. She’d rather have earned the change on her own, but she was grateful all the same. Caleb’s thoughtfulness sent a thrill through her heart.
Best of all, almost everyone looked at her differently. Word had gotten out that she’d helped Caleb’s employee, and for the first time, she felt appreciated by someone other than Doc. Everyone, that is, except Caleb’s parents. It seemed they went out of their way to avoid her. If she could ever figure out why, she’d do her best to change that situation, too.
A door slammed. Emma stepped outside with another box to add to the others and almost collided with Mr. Kelley. The look on his face made her choke on her apology.
Nostrils flaring, he tipped his hat. “Excuse me.” Without a moment’s waste, he was on his way again.
“Was there something … I … could … do for you?” The last three words trailed off in a whisper.
Why did he hate her so? She’d grown used to the rich looking down on her, so why did the Kelleys’ abhorrence hurt more than the others? Her throat burned as she fought back tears. The desire to run set her feet in motion. She’d never been more annoyed with her limp, adding to the ache in her heart.
The barn door gaped in silent invitation. She rushed inside and headed straight for Skeeter’s stall. That bonehead would leave with her today if she had to drag him by his tail.
The moment he saw her, Skeeter backed into a corner and put his head down, ears lowered. Not to be deterred, Emma grabbed his halter with both hands and pulled. He didn’t budge.
“Move, Skeeter. I gotta leave.” Her voice broke and dropped to a whisper. “I need you.”
She tugged his halter one more time, to no avail. Defeated, Emma slumped against the wall and slid to a crouch. Gasping for breath in the dank stench, sobs fought for space in her tight chest. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop the tears, berating herself as they fell. She’d vowed to never again let the rich make her feel like less of a person, and now she’d let herself down.
“Hey, now, little lady.” Gabe squatted next to her and reached to wipe a tear from her cheek. “What’s all this?”
His tender voice made her want to cry harder. That wouldn’t do. Time to buck up. She gulped in a deep breath and let it out in a slow puff. She paused a moment longer to make sure she could speak without her voice quivering. “I’m all right. Just a bad moment.”
Gabe helped her to her feet then motioned to a bench outside Skeeter’s stall. They sat silent for a long minute. He bumped her shoulder with his.
“Wanna talk about it?”
No.
“My ears work great even if my mouth doesn’t. Usually gets me into trouble.”
Gabe’s charm coaxed the smile she knew he wanted. Was it possible God was using Gabe to fill the hole Doc left?
“That’s better. Now, how about you tell me what caused those tears. I may not be able to heal as well as you, but I know talking helps.”
Emma wasn’t so sure, but it couldn’t hurt to try. She trusted Gabe, at least for now. “I’m a good person.” “You sure are.”
“Just because I limp doesn’t mean I’m less of a person.”
“I agree.”
Emma leaned away to see Gabe’s face better. “So, why is it some people think otherwise?” She wanted a good reason for her problem but doubted Gabe had one.
“I take it you still can’t get Caleb’s parents to warm up to you.”
Emma’s mouth dropped open. “How did you know that?”
Gabe’s chuckle made his shoulders bounce. “I’d have to be blind to miss the way you look at them with those pleading eyes and deaf not to hear your attempts to get them talking.”
Was it that obvious? She cringed. No wonder they avoided her. Who’d want to be around a needy person? Not that she was one of those.
“Give them time, Emma. One day they’ll see your sweet heart.”
Doubtful. How could they when they wouldn’t come near her?
Gabe bumped her again and motioned to her leg. “What happened, Emma? Do you mind talking about it?”
“Depends on who’s asking.” She bumped him back. “I reckon I can tell you, though.”
She stared at the far wall and pondered the memory. Some things were fuzzy. Others could have happened yesterday.
“I was shot.”
Gabe reared back. “What?”
She nodded. “Right after they killed Daddy.”
Gabe sat silent. For once. Might as well finish the tale while he was still quiet.
“Mama had died not long before. She’d been sick awhile. Coughed herself to death.” Emma could still hear the ragged sound in her mind. “Daddy was so upset it nearly killed him.” She wouldn’t tell Gabe of her own broken heart. “Not long after she was buried, Daddy loaded our belongings in the wagon. Never said where we were going. We just went.”
“How old were you?”
Emma smiled. Gabe could only stay silent so long. “Seven, I think.”
That’s what Doc had guessed when he found her. Since she couldn’t remember her birth date, they started celebrating her birthdays on the day her leg was declared healed.
“We spent a lot of nights sleeping under the wagon. Then one day we stopped at a town. Daddy told me to wait in the wagon, that he’d come right back. But he didn’t. He was gone forever. So I went looking for him.” She swallowed hard. She couldn’t see faces, but she could see the event clearly. “I rounded a corner, saw a man pointing a gun at Daddy, and I screamed.”
Gabe grasped her hand. “And that man shot you?”
Emma nodded as it played through her mind. “The pain was awful. I
hit the ground hard. But I heard two more shots, then that man ran away.” She took a shaky breath. “I saw Daddy in the dirt. I tried crawling to him but it hurt too bad.” She shook her head. “Next thing I knew, Doc was standing over me.”
“And he took care of you ever since.” When she nodded, Gabe leaned forward and looked her in the eyes. “And the man you seek in Woodville?”
The anger returned. “The man who killed Daddy.”
“How do you know he’s in Woodville?”
She stood and paced. “I found Mama’s diary in Daddy’s things when Doc died. She mentioned his name, why they were meeting in Irontree, and where he’d planned to start a business. I’m gonna see if he’s there.”
Gabe leaned back and crossed his arms. “Why were they meeting?”
Emma’s heart clenched. This was the part she didn’t want to tell. She stopped pacing and faced him. “To split some stolen money from the war.”
Gabe only nodded. Good. She couldn’t explain anything else.
“And what do you plan to do when you find this man?”
Now, why did he have to go and ask that? She shrugged and looked away.
“Does that gun in your bag play a part in this?”
Shock spun her around to face him. How did he know about that?
He met her gaze. “Caleb told me he felt it when he looked through your things.”
Men! Nosy rascals. She’d set Gabe straight right now. “I don’t know what I intend to do, but at least I’ll have some protection if he decides to finish the job he started.”
Annoyance swept through her. That wasn’t true. She knew what she intended. She’d seek justice for her father, maybe for herself. Peace wouldn’t come until evil had been avenged.
Gabe stared at her face, then nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. From the shelf next to him he picked up a narrow piece of wood about a foot long. The corners had been cut out, making the piece look like a long plus sign. He made several notches then started whittling chunks out, letting the shavings drop to the ground.
“Do you believe in God, Emma?”
Where did that question come from? “Yes.”
“Do you love Him?”
She frowned. “Of course.”
“Then why don’t you obey Him?” He never looked up but kept carving the wood. “You can’t have it both ways, little one.”
Her nails bit into her palms. “I don’t understand.” More shavings fell. “You can’t seek revenge then become obedient again. You can’t pick and choose when you will and won’t follow God. It’s something that’s done all the time or not at all.”
An oval dangled from the piece of wood. Gabe continued whittling, his rough, scarred hands caressing the wood as he worked. “What if Christ had decided to disobey the Father just one time and not come to earth to die for us? If He’d not come to earth as a baby, we’d have no Christmas to celebrate.” Gabe looked up. “And no redemption.”
He went back to carving and soon another link dangled with the first. “We need to follow Christ’s example and be obedient to the point of death.” A third link fell. “All the time.”
Emma puzzled over Gabe’s words as he continued working with the wood. She never said she wanted to exact revenge, yet Gabe seemed to know and warned her against it, for her own sake, not that of the killer. Finally, Gabe stood and handed her the wood, now transformed into a chain. She’d never seen anything like it as she rubbed her thumb over the smooth links.
Gabe grasped the dangling end and pulled the chain taut.
“We need to learn to be content in our circumstances, whatever they may be. The only person vengeance hurts is the one holding on to it.” He placed the tip of his knife on one of the links and started gouging and flicking tiny pieces of the wood. “It eats away at you until—”
Emma placed her hand over the knife handle. “Stop. You’re marring your beautiful creation.”
Understanding dawned. Emma looked into Gabe’s eyes. He winked and patted her hand. Whistling, he wandered back to his corner of the barn and began carving at the bedposts intended for Caleb’s parents.
Left alone to deal with the sin damaging God’s creation, Emma wondered if Gabe thought her marred beyond repair. Or was it just her who thought that of herself? It was too late to fill the holes vengeance had produced.
Chapter 6
Caleb followed his nose to the kitchen, pushed through the doors, then inhaled, long and deep. Ah, Thanksgiving.
Two things in this world bore a fragrance like no other. The scent of cut wood and the smell of turkey and dressing as they cooked. Both trees and meat held a faint aroma, but it wasn’t until a blade or heat was applied that they revealed their essence. He smiled. Not exactly deep thinking, but they were two of his true loves.
Glancing around the kitchen, he spotted the other thing quickly adding itself to his list of loves. Not it, but who. He headed across the room and stopped next to her.
“Good morning, Emma.”
He waited for her to turn and … there. That shy smile of hers warmed him every time. Best of all, it seemed reserved just for him. The last few weeks, he found every excuse possible to spend time with her. Her latest tasks of tending the flower beds, bushes, and fall garden allowed him plenty of chances to run into her and offer his help. Not that his efforts were appreciated every time. She shook a hoe at him once and flung a clump of dirt at him another when his clumsy attempts hindered rather than helped. But the time with her was never in vain. Not only did he get to know her better, but she showered him with those wonderful smiles.
“Mornin’, Caleb.” The head cook waddled over before Emma said a word. “I knew we’d see you long before dinner. It’s become tradition for you to smell the food before you eat it.”
Mabel had been their cook as long as he could remember. He grinned and gave her a hug. “And as usual, Mabel, it smells amazing.”
“Oh … go on with yourself.” She bumped his hip with hers. “You’re just sweet-talking to get a sample.”
As her cackle pierced his eardrums, she pulled one of her scrumptious bread rolls from her apron pocket. His mouth already salivating, Caleb wasted no time taking a bite. The light, yeasty roll melted into a warm taste of paradise, nearly making his eyes roll to the back of his head.
“Heavenly,” was all he managed as he shoved the remainder in his mouth.
“Uh-huh. Well, it’s all you get for now, so don’t go begging for more.”
Mabel wandered back to the stove to stir one of the pots. Surely she knew a small taste was sheer torture. But Caleb also knew she’d be good to her word. He’d receive a slap to the hand if he tried to sneak more.
About the only thing that would take his mind off the wonderful smell filling the kitchen was Emma. He wouldn’t get a chance to spend time with her until tonight, if at all, so he’d have to steal a moment this morning.
He leaned close to whisper, “Happy Thanksgiving.” There was that smile again.
“Thank you.”
Oh, how he wished they could spend the day together. But his mother had other plans. In fact, it seemed she worked hard to keep him from Emma’s side. Today she invited Mayor Peck, his wife, and their daughter to share not only their meal but the whole day. Caleb knew full well his mother hoped something would happen between him and Ruby Peck, and she found numerous ways to get them together. Ruby was pretty enough. Beautiful, actually. But there was nothing more to her. No flair or spunk. Not witty at all … like Emma.
With just the right prompt, Caleb could get a spirited statement from Emma that would make him smile for hours.
“If you wore your bonnet, you’d blend right in with the fall colors.”
Emma held the tip of her knife under his nose, her face expressionless. “I’ve got a knife, and I’m quite good at using it.” She stated each word slowly then returned to her task.
Caleb tried not to laugh but was unsuccessful. It burst out of him like a trigger had been pu
lled. He’d kiss her in a heartbeat if he didn’t think it’d get him into trouble.
“Caleb!” Mabel shook her spoon at him. “You get on outta here before your blood is spilled all over my nice kitchen.”
Though she sounded gruff, a smile tickled the corners of Mabel’s mouth. Caleb gave a quick bow then sent Emma a hasty wink and rushed outside. He stood on the back porch appreciating the majestic pines standing sentinel. But he appreciated Emma so much more.
How did she manage to bury herself so deeply in his heart? Maybe her quiet dignity in the face of difficulties? Emma was a fighter struggling to do the right thing, no matter what. Caleb admired that quality. To lose her would be the worst thing he could imagine. Hopefully she’d learn to love Tremble and forget her desire to meet up with the man from Woodville, whatever the reason. Until now, Caleb never knew the feeling of hating a man he’d never met. But the defiance Caleb read in Emma’s eyes made him nervous. What caused it, he didn’t know, but he felt certain it would be the basis for her leaving.
As he proceeded indoors to greet their guests, he prayed Emma would understand his need to socialize with Ruby today. First thing tomorrow, he’d make sure Emma realized just where his thoughts spent the most hours each day. Harder yet would be making his mother accept his feelings for Emma, though he had yet to figure out why.
Emma focused on getting through the swinging door and into the kitchen without dropping everything. If she made it safely inside, she’d have survived serving the Kelleys and their guests without embarrassing anyone, especially herself. And she would no longer have to watch Caleb and his lady friend together. The day was sheer torture. She’d tried not to let the sight of them bother her, but she’d failed miserably. Caleb had managed to work his way into her heart, and she couldn’t chop him loose no matter how hard she tried. She wanted to be the girl sitting next to him, smiling up into his charming face, not that wretchedly beautiful Ruby Peck.
She pushed through and set the tray on the counter. Done.
All that was left was to clean up. A quick look around told her the ladies had been busy. Except for the tray of dirty dishes she’d just brought in, almost everything was finished.
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