Within the Candle's Glow

by Karen Campbell Prough

  “That he is.” He lifted his head and grinned. “Even with his problem, or because of it, Phillip wraps everyone around his finger.”

  “Yes, he does.” She turned to stare at the wooded mountain slopes lining the narrow cove. She was fully aware of Jim watching her. “Why are you starin’ at me?”

  “The sunlight makes your hair glisten.”

  “It does?” She tried not to show the pleasure she felt.

  “Yes. I like it.” He twirled his hat and plopped it back on his head. His horse nuzzled his arm. “I suppose Samuel tells you the same thing.” He snatched a long stem of wiry grass and twisted it around one finger.

  “Samuel?” She faced him. “No, cain’t recall he’s ever said that.”

  He smiled. “We must walk faster. I’ve got to get you home.”

  “Yes.” Disappointment washed over her. She had liked the strange turn in the conversation.

  “Can’t help but be curious as to what this Josh has to do with you, even though Velma explained where you met him.”

  She avoided his stare and laced her fingers around the bag of gold. “He came back here to the cove—to give me somethin’.” She saw no reason to keep it a secret and lifted the swinging bag.

  “To give you? Appeared out of nowhere—almost dead—just to give you something?” He pulled at the neck of his shirt as if it irritated him. “I don’t like the idea. Him—bein’ a stranger and all.” He ran one hand over his face. His fingers rasped against the shadow of a dark beard. “Don’t keep me in suspense. What’d he give you?”

  She laughed. “It’s not for me. It’s for Velma.” She stopped walking and loosened the neck of the bag. “Take a peek.”

  He leaned in. “Wow. That’s gold nuggets and gold dust.” Jim’s horse tried to nibble at the bag. He shoved the animal away. “Whoa. That’s not food.”

  “Josh tells me it’s gold Velma’s dead husband mined out of the ground. He wants me to take it to her.”

  “After all these years? That’s hard to believe …” He shook his head and chuckled. “I want to see her face when you give it to her. Can I?”

  “Yes.” She tightened the closure on the bag and rolled it up. Clenching it in her fist, she smiled. “I’m fearful to walk with this much in my hand.”

  “You’ve got me at your side.”

  He playfully offered his elbow. She wasted no time in slipping her hand through it.

  “Then my well-bein’ is secure.”

  “I’ll be your protection as long as you need me.” His callus-roughened fingers patted her hand—nestled in the bend of his left elbow.

  With head bowed to hide the warmth on her cheeks, she smiled. He fails to realize how long I might want protection.

  Jim’s fingertips tightened. “Knowing you were in there with a stranger made me suffer more anger and worry than I’ve experienced in a long time.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Why? He’s sicker than a snake-bit dog. Granny wanted me with her.”

  He stopped in the path. “I saw how he feels about you.”

  “What?” Dumbfounded, she shook her head. “Feels ‘bout me? He an’ I spoke one time—years ago.”

  Sober eyes, the color of a brewing storm, challenged her statement. “You didn’t notice? He’s in love with you.”

  “In love with me?” She withdrew her hand from his arm. “You’re touched from the heat.”

  Besides, no one wants a girl with a flawed neck.

  “Why would a sick man ride into our cove to give you a bag of gold?”

  “He didn’t give it to me—it’s for Velma. He thought she was my mama. He’s an honest man!” She fought the frustration at having to defend Josh. It seemed absurd.

  “How do you know it’s Velma’s gold—gold her man panned out of a stream? Maybe Josh dug it out of the ground himself. It’s a way he can lay a wondrous gift at your feet, hoping you’ll accept it. Perhaps, he’ll coax you to accept him.”

  “Coax me?” Her back tensed with indignation. “Are you jealous over the gold? You dare to call him a liar? You don’t know him.”

  “Neither do you.” His tone grew terse. “He’s a stranger, remember?”

  Hurt, she said, “He spoke to me one time in the past. Why would he work an’ starve himself to death to bring gold to me? I’m nothin’ to him.” Her full skirt caused her to stumble as she spun and stomped away. “I’m goin’ home. This ain’t your concern. Too bad you didn’t walk Sophie home.”

  She heard his boots and the hooves of the horse. Jim’s hand closed on her shoulder. “Ella Dessa.”

  Tears blurred her vision. She shrugged his hand away and kept walking.

  “Honey, look at me.”

  “Honey?” She came to an immediate halt and whirled around.

  His hands caught her upper arms.

  “Who gave you permission to call me that?” His closeness caused her breath to catch in her throat.

  He dropped his hands. “Sorry, it just slipped out. Mother uses it all the time. Let’s start over and talk about … the scenery in this cove. We have mountains on both sides. Look at the ridge behind you.” He pointed to the west. “It’s solid rock. Did you ever see such wonderful trees and rocks and trees and more trees?”

  Ella shook her head. She wanted to smile at him. She glowered instead.

  “What? You must’ve seen those trees.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and urged her to turn. “Look up. You came along this trail this morning. Why … I see one fluffy cloud the size of a newborn rabbit. Does it mean rain?”

  She had to laugh. “No! No rain while we walk.”

  “Whew! Thank you.” He held out the crook of his elbow. “I believe we were enjoying a friendly walk home?”

  Jim’s horse shoved its nose against his back and nickered.

  “Your horse wants attention.” She tucked her hand back in the bend of his elbow.

  He grinned. “I’ve noticed something that thrills me to my boots. I’ve got a temper, but you’ve got one, too.”

  “No, I don’t.” Under her fingertips, she noted the firm muscles of his arm.

  They continued in silence. She longed to dance and twirl in the sunlight, but instead, she clung tighter to Jim’s arm. Seconds slipped away.

  The cabin came into view.

  Velma and the children walked up from the side field. The woman’s beaming smile widened when she spotted them. She swung the sagging gate into place. “We’ve a surprise to show you, but first—how’s Josh?”

  Ella sighed. “I think he’ll live. He took broth.”

  “That’s good news.”

  Scott elbowed through the other children. “Old Red just dropped!”

  Velma nodded. “It’s a heifer. Happened when we gots home.”

  “I saw it born.” Mae skipped a few steps. Her eight-year-old face was rosy with excitement. “The baby cow’s all wet!”

  Carrie rolled her eyes at her exuberant sister. “All babies are wet an’ messy when they’re born.”

  Six-year-old Rosemary grabbed Ella’s hand. “Come see it.” Her hair had slipped from the blue ribbon Ella loaned her that morning. Long and mousy, her hair now hung down the sides of her heart-shaped face.

  “Where’s my ribbon?”

  The girl pointed at the cabin.

  Ella turned to Jim. “You want to see the calf?”

  “I’ll make time.” He tied his horse to a tree, scooped Adam up, and tossed him over his shoulder, which sent the little boy into explosive giggles. “Look at this floppy, curly-headed fish I caught.”

  “He looks more like a chubby baby bear.” Scott jumped to swat Adam’s up-ended backside.

  Adam let out a wail of protest.

  “Son, don’t cause problems.” Velma grabbed her oldest son by the ear. “He’s not had a nap.”

  “Ouch.” Scott shrugged away from her pinching fingers.

  Remy’s grin widened. He shoved the gate open and waved them through the narrow space. “The baby’s got a w
hite spot on her forehead an’ her legs ain’t workin’.”

  Snorting his ridicule, Scott swaggered past him. “Remy, new babies don’t walk right away. You sure couldn’t.”

  “Scott, hush.” Velma shook her head. “He’s gots to have the last word.”

  “Reminds me of my brother, Duncan.” Jim lowered Adam to the ground and tousled the child’s black curls.

  Velma pretended to box Scott’s ears before shoving him ahead of her. “It gets wearisome. What do you hear from your wanderin’ brother?”

  “Duncan rarely sends word, but we got one letter the rider delivered to Beckler’s store. My redheaded brother says he’s working his way home. We don’t know when he’ll appear, but Samuel and I will dump work on him—if he dares show his face.”

  “You didn’t tell me you heard from him.” Ella was instantly curious.

  “I forgot.”

  They went around the dilapidated log barn.

  “There’s the baby.” Carrie pointed. “Isn’t she sweet?”

  Under the low limb of an oak tree, the exhausted cow stood beside the resting calf. Her long tongue licked the newborn’s curly wet coat. Leaves and grass stuck to the calf’s brownish-red back, but the cow paid the roughage no mind. She ate it along with the cleaning of the calf.

  At their noisy appearance, the calf fought to stiffen its legs and managed to stagger to its feet.

  “It’s standin’.” Mae did a little jig, waving her arms over her head.

  “The little herd has gained another milkgiver.” Velma’s eyes twinkled. “Ella, we’ll soon be rich mountain women.”

  “No, you are rich.” She laughed and hugged the woman’s neck.

  “Me?” Velma beamed. “I know it. I haves the richness of my life standin’ arounds me.” Her pronounced lisp added character to her speech. “Richness isn’t counted in coins or land. God’s love makes us rich with his blessin’s.”

  Ella smiled up at Jim, catching the sparkle of amusement in his eyes.

  “Velma, I need to talk to you alone,” Ella said. “Carrie, will you please take everyone inside?”

  The girl’s questioning eyes darted from Ella to her mother. There was no doubt she wanted to refuse, but she lifted her little brother to her hip and motioned to the others.

  Scott faced Ella, defiance in his ramrod stance. “Why’d you say that?” He flipped aside the brown hair hanging in his hazel eyes. “I want to stay an’ listen.”

  His mother shook her finger. “Git! You minds Ella an’ Carrie. Go.”

  Scott, determined to show his independence, scuffed his toes in the dirt, lingering behind his siblings.

  “Git or I’ll makes you snap yer own switch off a tree!”

  Scott jogged after the others.

  Velma shook her head. “Why does he defy me? I worry he’s just likes my dead husband.”

  “No, he’s not.” Ella grabbed Velma’s hand. “He chafes under his sister’s orders. Open your hand.”

  “My hand?”

  “Yes, do as you’re told. Stop actin’ like your oldest son.”

  With a show of reluctance, the thin woman extended her palm.

  “This here is your rightful property, brung to you by an honest man.” Ella laid the leather bag in the widow’s hand.

  Velma’s eyes narrowed. “What’s this?”

  “Open it.”

  “If a snake jumps at me, you’ll—” She went silent. Her dark eyes grew large. She poked at the contents with one quivering finger. “Ella, this … it’s gold? Real gold?”

  “Yes. It’s yours.”

  “Mine? No.” She tightened the drawstring and held out the leather bag. “Ella Dessa, I don’t own nothin’ like this. Takes it. I don’t want anythin’ to do with it. God provides.”

  “God has provided.” Ella backed away with her hands raised. She related Josh’s astounding story. “You gotta accept it, though it’s hard to believe. Be happy. Thank him for bein’ honest and bringin’ it to you—after all these years.”

  Tears dripped to Velma’s heaving flat bodice. “I cain’t believe this. So Gust did find gold?” Her voice trembled. A shadow of a smile indicated her willingness to believe a smidgen of good about her dead husband. His abuse had once beaten her into submission, causing her to doubt her own worth.

  “He must’ve.”

  “It’s been years since he died. To get this now—I don’t knows what to believe. He had gold saved to bring home? How did someone knows this?”

  Jim bowed his head and tugged at the brim of his hat. Ella understood he didn’t cotton to Josh’s story. She smiled at the thin woman.

  “Josh found it an’ saved it for you. Accept it.”

  “Oh, my!” She scrubbed her dress sleeve under her nose, burrowed her face in her elbow, and smothered sobs. “I can … pays Walter what I owe ‘im at the store. I can buy Remy shoes.” She gasped for breath. “Oh, the list goes on! Carrie wants material for a new dress.”

  Ella hugged her. “I’m happy for you. Buy somethin’ you want.”

  “Thank you, dear.” The woman stared at the dilapidated barn. “We could get a team of work horses an’ a better wagon?” She pulled a muslin handkerchief out of her bodice and blew her nose.

  “You best wait and see what Mr. Beckler has in mind.” She nudged Velma’s elbow and smiled. “You might not need a new wagon. How ‘bout a pretty dress—fit for a weddin’?”

  Jim chuckled.

  The widow blushed. “Oh, go on—you!” But her expression grew serious. “Why’s Josh jest bringin’ this gold to me, now?”

  “Don’t know.” She realized Velma voiced the same worry she kept hidden from Jim. “The other man who reported your husband’s death is dead. Josh says that man found the gold on Gust an’ stole it. He was afraid to bring it ‘til now. Plus, he had some rough times.” She reached for Velma’s hands and pressed them around the leather bag. “Be happy.”

  Jim nodded. “Don’t worry about the past.” He touched Ella’s arm. “I must go home.”

  She faced him, thankful he hadn’t spoken his personal opinions about the gold. “Thanks for walkin’ me home.”

  “You’re welcome.” He gathered the horse’s reins. “See you soon?”

  “Yes.” She waited for him to step into the saddle and ride away. Only then did she face Velma.

  The skinny woman had a troubled look. “How’d your blouse git torn by the collar? An’ a button’s gone missin?”

  “I did it.” Ella stared at Jim’s retreating figure. “Pulled on it.”

  Just before he reached the tree line, Jim turned in the saddle and lifted one hand. She waved and sighed.

  “You’ve a problem.”

  “What?” She reluctantly drew her eyes away from the sight of Jim’s wide back disappearing between tree trunks and limbs. “I’ll stitch the tear.” Her fingers sought the rip and tried to smooth it.

  “That’s not what I mean. You’ll soon cause two brothers to fight over you.”

  “Fight?”

  “Samuel’s cared for you since you an’ him were twelve an’ thirteen.” She pointed in the direction Jim took. “An’ that there young man’s eyes ain’t calm likes a mournin’ dove’s back. They have the deep longin’ of a dove’s forlorn call.”

  “Velma—how you do go on!” Swishing her skirt around her ankles, she turned and walked toward the cabin. Her lips carried a hidden smile. “Come on, you’ve news to tell your young’uns.”

  Chapter 6

  Saturday, August 15, 1840

  “Here, boy!” Ella clapped her hands. A ball of brown fur burst from the dense underbrush and tried to run up the rocky trail.

  “Be careful if you pick him up. He’s covered with burrs.” Samuel slipped a leather pack from his back. Earlier, he had tied two baskets to it. They dangled from the pack like tiny cradleboards.

  “I guess we should’ve left him home.” She knelt. The little dog wiggled into her arms and licked her face with sloppy kisses. She tucked his
squirmy body under her right arm and walked over to Samuel. “He’s so playful.” She raised the hem of her brown skirt and hopped up on a flat rock. “How old is he?”

  “He’s three months and some, but too big for his britches. He acts like a full grown bear dog, and he’s been attacking Mother’s pet pig.”

  “He’ll learn.” She held the small dog up in front of her face. “He needs a doggy nap.”

  “He can nap while we pick.” Samuel pointed beyond the rocks. “There’s the berries. A hot fire burned out trees sometime in the past. Must’ve been lightning, not a campfire.”

  Low bushes—covered with round blueberries—blanketed the area. They grew in the warm sunshine, on the northeast side of the mountain. The ground sloped away from them, with gray boulders dotting the area.

  “Samuel, you were right.” The sight brought a pleased sigh from her parted lips.

  “Told you.”

  She jumped off the rock, lowered the panting puppy to the ground, and hurried to the small-leafed shrubs. She plucked a few of the ripened berries and popped them in her mouth. With eyes shut, she chewed.

  “Hmm, they’re so ripe. I can taste a blueberry cobbler bubblin’ with thickened juice.”

  Samuel chuckled. “Stop. You’re making me hungry. Come get a basket.”

  She chose a basket and left one on the ground for him.

  “I’m not setting this pack down.” He slipped the shoulder straps back over his arms. “If I do, I’ll lose it. Then we won’t have our lunch, and Papa will whip me. He takes pride in his leatherwork. This pack is one of them.”

  “He’d never whip you.” She swung her basket back and forth. “We’ll fill these in no time.”

  “I agree.” He placed the basket between his feet, and his fingers plucked at the tiny tokens of sweetness. “Watch for bees,” he muttered, shoving berries in his mouth.

  She snickered. “Samuel, you’re so silly. You won’t fill the basket that way.” She gathered her old skirt to the side, stepped into the thick of the bushes, and rested the basket’s handle in the bend of her left arm. “I hope we don’t get chiggers on us. I hate ‘em.”

  “Naw, they like blackberry bushes.”

  “Velma will be able to fix Mr. Beckler an’ us blueberry cobblers.”