The Girl Called Ella Dessa: Will she ever be cherished for the inner beauty beneath her scars?

by Karen Campbell Prough

  “Ella Dessa, I know you’ll be the one she contacts, because Manfred doesn’t let Nettie read letters from Fern’s sister in Florida. He burns them. So, that’s my letter to Fern.”

  “What can I do with it?” She tried to hand it back. “I may never hear from her.”

  “Keep it and send it with yours, whenever the time comes.” Duncan turned without bothering to acknowledge anyone else. He pushed between Samuel and Jim—his shoulders bumping against theirs—as he walked toward the door. He hit the latch with a shove of his palm, walked through the door, and elbowed it shut behind him with a definite finality.

  It was a solid and heavy sound.

  Chapter 16

  Saturday, October 8, 1836

  A week later, Ella awoke to shrieks of childish laughter and a tiny body falling across her back. “Oh, that hurt.” She raised her head. “Mae, I know your laugh. Get off my back.”

  Elbows dug into her side, and the slight weight lifted.

  “Why wake me?” She pushed herself upright and brushed hair out of her face.

  Mae grinned and sat cross-legged beside Ella. Her four-year-old expression of amusement contrasted the pallor of her heart-shaped face. Brown stringy hair hung in front of her lake-blue eyes. She peered through the messy strands, not bothering to push them aside.

  “Remy said wake ya!” She poked Ella’s shoulder with one finger and giggled.

  “So you did. You mind him better’n your mama or me. Move over, so I can get out from under this cover.”

  “Remy’s a big boy.” The skinny girl rolled sideways, plucked at loose threads on the worn quilt, and wound one thread around a little finger. She hummed an unrecognizable tune.

  “Mae, where’s the others?” The quilt-strewn loft was empty and still in the shadowy morning light.

  “We’re down here,” an energetic voice shouted. “You’re lazy.”

  She recognized the voice of Velma’s oldest boy and crawled to the edge of the loft. “Scott, what got you up so early?”

  The other four children sat at the uneven wood table. Little Rosemary held a pewter spoon above her head and watched porridge drip from it.

  “We had a notion to surprise you this mornin’.” Velma straightened from bending over the fire and waved her left hand. She still favored her right wrist, even though Granny declared it not broken. “You’ve endured one week with my wild younguns! That ain’t easy.”

  Ella picked up a shawl and went down the ladder in her nightshift.

  “We want you happy.” Mae scurried past her and climbed on a bench to sit, her bare feet not reaching the floor. She made her sister Carrie scoot over. Always exuberant, she usually chattered about nonsense.

  “Happy?” Ella echoed. “I’m happy.”

  Carrie placed her hand over Mae’s mouth. “I’m biggest. Let me. She means we’re declarin’ this your day.”

  “Declarin’? That’s a full-sized word. So, it’s my day?”

  Velma rubbed her back. “Carrie, git your hand off Mae’s mouth. Ella, I knew you’d loves to go to Naomi’s for the quiltin’ in Grace’s honor. So, we’re givin’ you the day off.” Her smile exposed the noticeable gap between her top front teeth. “You’re free to go.”

  “Oh dear.” She felt like clapping her hands. She had longed to go, but Velma had been ill with morning sickness all week. “I’d love to go.”

  “I knew it.” The thin woman pointed at the table. “Sit and eat. I feels better this mornin’. It comes and goes.”

  Ella slid onto the bench and took care to sit lightly on the rough areas. If a body wiggled too much, splinters could embed in the most embarrassing spots and be the cause of great pain. Rosemary leaned sideways and planted a porridge-covered kiss on her lower arm.

  “Umm, Rosemary, thank you.”

  “Kiss!” The two-year-old gave her a wide-open smile, which showed tiny even teeth.

  She bent and kissed Rosemary’s moist, puckered lips.

  Velma laughed. “I’m amazed at how she’s taken with you. Why, she don’t even like her pappy. Makes Gust angry.”

  Scott raised his head and laid his spoon aside. A stony expression tightened his childish jaw. He had the same space between his upper teeth as his mother and the same dark down-slanted eyes. His hair coloring matched Gust’s sandy brown.

  “I don’t like ‘im, either. He’s crazy an’ mean,” he said.

  “Scottie, you don’t talks like that.” Velma shook her finger in his direction.

  “You said Rosemary doesn’t like ‘im.” The boy shoved his wooden bowl across the table. “You don’t tell her no.”

  “She’s a baby, yet. You’re next to the oldest. You knows better.” His mother pointed at the bowl. “You take that to the bucket.”

  Scott palmed the carved bowl and walked over to the wooden bucket his mother used to soak her dishes. He tossed the bowl into the bucket and water sloshed on the floor. Ella looked Velma’s way for any sign of maternal reaction, but the woman ignored the deliberate act of defiance. She caught Ella’s eye, raised her dark eyebrows, and sighed.

  “Choosin’ my battles,” she whispered. “It’s a wise thing to do.” Her thin lips curled in a faint grin. “A seven-year-old goin’ on eight—who thinks he’s fifteen.”

  Ella smiled. During the past week, she learned to appreciate the woman’s quick wit and strength of character. Velma didn’t let her present circumstances depress her, instead she said she wanted to prove—if to no one but herself—that she could exist without a husband.

  “Ella?” Scott came back to the table and leaned on it. His mood was surly. “Mama says we shouldn’t mention it, but did a mountain cat scratch you?”

  Velma gasped and picked up a switch she kept on the mantel. “Scott Clanders, that’s enough! You will bend over the rocker—rights now!”

  “No, please, I’d love to tell the story,” Ella said. She laid aside her spoon. “Scott, sit down. I’ll tell all of you the story, and then you’ll know why I have these marks on my neck.”

  *******

  An hour later, Ella stopped by Velma’s rocker and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be home to help with the evenin’ meal.”

  “Go have fun. I’m fine.” She appeared weary and older than her twenty-seven years. She patted the slight bulge in her belly. “It’s just that this one’s takin’ the strength out of me.”

  Ella flinched inside. Memories of her own mama’s lack of strength and the premature delivery were too fresh. She could still see her baby brother’s heaving chest, his little lungs struggling to draw in air. She patted Velma’s shoulder, as she fought tears.

  “Thank you, Velma. I won’t stay late.”

  Carrie, Scott, and Remy played in a corner of the small room, stacking blocks to build a fort and arguing amongst themselves, but Rosemary pulled herself into Velma’s lap. Her droopy eyes said she’d soon take a nap.

  “She’d like to nurse, but ain’t got nothin’ for her.” Velma patted the child’s cheek. Her broken-nailed hand was a sharp contrast to Rosemary’s rose-petal skin. “I hopes she don’t try hogging back in on my milk afters the baby’s born at the end of March.”

  Rosemary’s arms and legs appeared thin and blue-veined—as if she might benefit from nursing. Wispy brown hair framed her delicate heart-shaped face, and her ears stuck out. Her huge brown eyes flickered over Ella’s face and then closed. Even as she drifted off to sleep, the child’s pink lips worked the two fingers in her mouth.

  Ella turned to go, but Velma reached for her hand.

  “Child, tonight when the little ones sleep, let’s sit, and talk—woman to woman. I might even stir up an apple crumble with sweeten’—just for us girls.” Loneliness etched her gentle words.

  “I would like that.”

  The woman gave a large toothy smile. “Go, haves fun. Catch up on the gossip for me, ‘specially when it comes to what’s goin’ on with Duncan an’ Fern.

  “Why?” Ella scowled at the mention of her friend
and Duncan. “Has there been more gossip?”

  “I only heard Duncan caused much’a stir with his announcement. It’s likely to get back to Manfred. That man’ll secret Fern off to another place—other than Florida. He’s very stubborn.”

  “Fern may never write.” She thought of Duncan’s letter. It remained in her safekeeping. Will I be doin’ the right thing, if there’s a chance to mail it?

  *******

  Naomi and Leigh Chesley’s cabin was on the western edge of the curved cove, a swift arrow’s flight from the small log structure used as a meetinghouse and a church. Ella lifted her shawl to cover her head and set out at a brisk pace. Her booted toes kicked dust as she let her thoughts drift to Duncan and Fern. She had experienced shock when Duncan laid the envelope in her hand. Even more, she was a taken aback at his sudden change in attitude toward her.

  Inez had chosen not to talk about her son’s announcement during the walk down to Velma’s cabin. She merely called it another one of his spur of the moment actions.

  It was difficult for Ella to enter Naomi Chesley’s house. Memories of her mama swamped her mind. Many of the same women seated near the quilting frame had attended her burying. There were only a few she didn’t recognize. Once she said her “hellos and nice-to-meet-yous,” she accepted a chair between Grace and Inez.

  “We’ve missed you.” Grace kissed her cheek. “I’m glad you got to come.”

  Inez reached to squeeze her hand. “Hope you’re happy with Velma.” Her hazel eyes searched Ella’s face. “You look content and well.”

  “I miss both of you. An’, yes, I’m happy.”

  “Ella Dessa?” A finger poked her shoulder.

  “Oh, Katy, I’m so happy to see you. Where’s your mother?”

  “She’s at the end of the table. See? Beside Naomi.” The girl pointed and then said, “Hi, Grace. How’s your father?”

  “Papa’s knee seems to be back to normal.” Grace stroked Katy’s curls and pushed them away from the girl’s round face. “You’re getting prettier every day.”

  “Thank you.” Katy blushed. “Ella Dessa, I might come see you soon. I just heard you’re stayin’ with the Clanders.”

  “I know Velma won’t mind if you do. She’d love it.”

  “Then I’ll come visit. Talk to you at the midday meal.” Katy gave Ella a parting hug before heading to where her mother sat.

  Inez slid a cloth bag across the floor and toward Ella with her foot. “Here’s your dress and the other skirts I redid and adjusted to fit you.”

  She shifted the bag between her feet under the quilt frame. “Thank you kindly. I need them.”

  Inez squeezed her hand. “We hoped you’d be here. Now, tell me the truth. How’s Velma and the children?”

  “She tires easy, with no strength. Scott’s givin’ her the dickens. Rosemary acts puny. Mae’s wild, Remy’s all boy, an’ Carrie … well, she’s a problem in her own.” Ella ticked her replies off on her fingers and smiled.

  Inez nodded as if in understanding about Carrie, a beautiful nine-year-old with impulsive actions. “Some say she’s fey. Is she any better? Or does she still do impulsive things? Velma told me about past incidents.” She handed Ella a needle strung with thread.

  “Oh, she’s not fey or doomed to die.” She shook her head while rolling the needle between her thumb and finger. “But no, I don’t think she’s better. She filched Velma’s scissors and cut Remy’s hair. Now he’s got bald patches. He cried an’ cried. Yesterday she plopped Rosemary in the empty water barrel on the porch and put the lid on. I heard her sobbin’.”

  “Oh, my!” Inez covered her mouth. Dismay showed on her face. “Has me thinkin’ she’d do it even if the barrel were full.” Ella studied her needle as she spoke. “I don’t like to suppose it’d happen.”

  “I wonder what makes that child act so outrageous.” Grace joined the conversation.

  “Don’t know, but after her mama flicked her legs with a tree branch, Carrie threw up on herself, and then she cried.” With one finger, she traced the wedding ring pattern of the stretched quilt in front of them. “I feel sorry for her. It’s like something’s making her act bad. And she don’t want to be bad.”

  “All you can do is love and pray for her.” Grace rethreaded her needle.

  “Prayer is the answer,” Inez agreed and patted her hand. “Children can be difficult to understand.”

  “I’m findin’ that out.” She shoved her needle into the material and changed the subject. “So, your husband’s knee is better?”

  “He’s walking with only a slight limp.”

  “And the others?” Most of all, she wanted to ask about Jim, but she held her curiosity in check by feigning concentration on her work.

  “They’re fine.” Grace answered before her mother. “Jim and Duncan do most of the work, letting Papa rest his knee. Samuel did get the barn straightened up after about four days.”

  Ella giggled as she remembered the conversation about the mess Samuel had to tackle. “An’ the girls? I so hoped Peggy would come today.”

  “Oh, Peggy’s very upset,” Grace said. “She wanted to see you, but Phillip came down with a cough. He fussed and clung to Mother. But, of course, my mother wanted to be here, so Peggy had to stay behind. Anna and Josie couldn’t be held responsible.”

  “Would you tell Peggy and the others that I wish to see ‘em?”

  “If she doesn’t, I will.” Inez turned to the quilt frame. “Okay, now girls, no more talking. Let’s get to work on this quilt.”

  Talk switched from one subject to the other while needles tucked and tunneled through the astonishing design on the wedding quilt. Ella sank into the comforting arms of female companionship and tried her best at the quilting. As it had always done—the few times her mama tried to show her about stitching—the delicate handwork caused her fingers to feel clumsy and too big to grasp the slender piece of metal and manage the long thread. Twelve stitches to the inch became the best she could accomplish.

  It was a relief to hear time called for the noon meal. Ella’s fingers had dotted-red holes pricked in them. “Ooh, my fingers feel like I’ve been pickin’ blackberries,” she said to Katy, who had circled to her side of the quilting frame.

  “Mine, too.” Katy held her hands out for inspection. The blushed tips of her fingers showed scratches. “Why do women want to do this?”

  “For the food?” Ella giggled and turned toward the women collecting picnic baskets from along a wall. “I forgot to bring anythin’ to eat.” She felt ashamed. “Guess I weren’t thinkin’ of food.”

  “We have plenty.” Grace grabbed her hand. “I think we’re eating outside under the trees. It’s a perfect fall day and has warmed considerably.” The three girls walked together toward the baskets.

  “Everyone’s basket is decorated?” Ella watched as Grace picked up a folded horse blanket and a sturdy basket decorated with sundried milkweed pods, stained blue and umber. The basket had a short length of pale-blue ribbon tied on the handle.

  “Yes, it makes it fun.” Grace shifted the basket to her nose. “Hmm, smells wonderful. Mother fried pieces of a rabbit Jim snared. She cooked a meat and onion pie with mashed potatoes in it—with a double crust. It’s easy to pick up with our hands. She also made sweet potato pie for dessert. Of course, she left a second one at home for the family so Papa and Samuel wouldn’t complain.” She playfully rolled her eyes.

  Ella smiled and felt the warmth of belonging. “I know that made ‘em happy.”

  “Oh, it did. Come with me. Katy, would you like to join us?”

  “I can’t. I promised Angela we’d eat together. She got here late, on account of her little brother burned his hand.”

  Inez joined the trio of girls just in time to hear the news. “Is he all right?”

  “Yes, his father took him to Granny Hanks. I think she smeared it with messy oil and wrapped it.” Katy slipped close to Grace, touched her arm, and impishly smiled. “I’m going to hide my
initials on your quilt. I’m good at embroidery. Maw said I could—to see if you find ‘em after you’re married.”

  “Oh, you silly girl.” Grace laughed and used one free arm to hug the girl. “I bet I can find them.”

  “Nope, you won’t. Bye, Ella Dessa.” Katy whirled and ran out the door.

  Naomi Chesley—her graying blond hair coiled on top of her head— came toward them and hugged Ella. “Ella Dessa, you look like you’ve grown an inch! I was so astonished when I looked across the quilting frame and saw you—of all people—sit down. With your hair pinned up, I almost didn’t recognize you, but I saw your mother’s beauty in you. I hear you’re helping Velma these days.”

  “Yes’um. She needed me. I know you also wanted my help.”

  “Well, I did, but that’s fine. Those twins of mine run me ragged. Brody’s gaining weight. So now I can tell them apart when they’re off at a distance getting into mischief. Torrin’s still wiry, like his father was. I love them, and God gave them to me, but they keep me fluttering in circles— like a vulture!” She laughed and patted Ella’s shoulder. “I am glad you could come help us finish Grace’s quilt. Time’s slipping away.”

  “Ahh, I ain’t much help with the quiltin’.”

  “Ella Dessa, every teeny bit helps, and you’re contributing to a lifelong treasure. I’m positive Grace appreciates it. God sees your sweet work.” She turned to Grace and Inez. “Bride to be, Konrad’s a lucky man. No doubt, God’s in this union. You’re going to make a beautiful bride. The prettiest ever in Beckler’s Cove.”

  “Thank you, Naomi. Speaking of Konrad, he mentioned he’d like to stop in and thank the women.”

  “Oh, that’s so sweet of him. The Lord bless him! Yes, I hope he stops by. I miss not having him stay with us, as he did for a short time. Get a bite to eat, and we’ll finish the quilt.”

  “I like her.” Ella watched Naomi walk away. Her mama had always admired the woman’s unshakable faith in God and her pleasant personality.