Within the Candle's Glow

by Karen Campbell Prough

  She sensed the horse angled to the right, following the direction Duncan had taken. With her arms clenched to Jim’s coated waist, she huddled and tried to make her mind go blank. She was aware of the horse stepping down into the frigid stream, splashing, and lunging up the opposite site.

  Bare tree limbs snapped and cracked above them, lending more speed to the horse’s gait. Ella knew if she lifted her head, the fierce wind would whip her breath away.

  She sensed Jim’s muscles tighten as he fought to control the antsy horse. She felt him tug his hat brim lower, protecting his face from the wind and icy particles blown sideways.

  “We’re almost there,” he finally yelled. “Sleet’s changing to snow.”

  When they reached the cove, he twisted sideways to grip her upper arm. She slid downward and clung to his hand until she got her feet under her.

  Once under the building’s roof, she turned. The wind gathered the fine snow in twirling funnels and blew it onto the dogtrot. She stared at Jim hunched over the neck of his horse.

  “Won’t you come in by the fire?”

  He held onto his hat. “No, I’m riding by the school … sure Samuel has left for home. I’ll trail him back—” The wind erased his next words.

  “What?”

  “Need to be sure my brother makes it … safe!” Jim lifted a hand, waved, and bent over the neck of the horse. His silhouette faded into the swirling mess.

  “Oh, God,” she prayed. “Please, keep him and Samuel safe.”

  Chapter 15

  Friday December 25, 1840

  Miles placed an arm around Ella and hugged her.

  “This is the happiest Christmas of my life. I only wish I could’ve been there for you in years past. From things you’ve said—and from what I have gathered from people like Granny Hanks and Leigh—I know your childhood wasn’t good. I know your mother suffered. Please,” he whispered, “realize if I could’ve changed it … I would’ve.”

  Unshed tears made his dark eyes glisten.

  “I know you would’ve. Don’t blame yourself.”

  “Are you happy now?”

  “Oh, yes.” She enjoyed the cozy moment.

  “It’s getting cold out!” Grace bustled in from the dogtrot attaching the main house to her kitchen. She carried a platter of crusty brown biscuits. “Ella Dessa, can you place this on the table? Leona’s telling Konrad it’s time to eat. He’s been patting Quinn’s back so he’ll nap until we’re done eating. I need to go back for the butter and meat.” She pointed over her shoulder.

  Ella accepted the plate. “I’m so hungry, I’d be satisfied with a biscuit.”

  “You leave them alone.” Grace shook her finger as she left the room.

  Miles chuckled.

  Ella went to the long table and set the plate beside a bowl of corn. “She might slap my hand. A nice cousin she’ll be.” She playfully wrinkled her nose at Miles and smiled. “Tell me somethin’—” She hesitated. “What shall I call you?”

  “What would make you comfortable?” He placed one elbow on the mantel shelf and waited.

  “Oh.” She shrugged. “I’d like to call you ‘Father.’”

  He nodded. “Then that’s what I’ll be. I hope I remember to answer to it. You might nudge me each time, until I’m used to the new title.”

  She giggled and relished the silly way they sometimes conversed. It helped smooth over the awkwardness in their initial relationship. Miles had a mild disposition, but he was straightforward.

  He sighed. “We’ve so much to talk over, but I feel I know you. You have your mother’s mannerisms. You’re free-hearted. So, at times, I recognize how you’re going to respond to things.” He pointed at her. “Your blue eyes shine like a calm lake, but they go stormy and darken to a deep aqua when something or someone bothers you—like that man, Josh Ragget.”

  “You know me well.” She rolled her eyes. “He comes and goes from the cove like a fretful dream.”

  A troubled frown creased her father’s forehead. “I can’t put my finger on it, but he’s one man who makes me hope he’ll do the wrong thing. I’d willingly punch him.”

  “Hankerin’ for a fight? You? I think of you as not troubled by anythin’.”

  His expression grew somber. “Be cautious around Josh. Promise me?” He touched her shoulder. His fingers tightened. “Let me know if he makes you uncomfortable.”

  “I will.” She tugged his hand away from her shoulder and clasped it in both of hers. “Now don’t go gettin’ all worried ‘cause I agree with you ‘bout him. I’ll be more than careful.”

  “Careful about what?” Leona asked. She carried Emma in her arms and stopped to kiss her husband’s cheek.

  “Everythin’.” Ella reached for the little girl. “This baby’s bigger every time I see her.” She ran her fingers over the dark locks bouncing on Emma’s head. “Look at these curls. I wish my hair coiled up like hers.”

  “Sorry, you didn’t get my curls,” Miles muttered. “In fact—what did you inherit from me?” He had a woebegone look.

  “Ahh, I got your sense of humor.” She leaned toward him. “An’—without you, I wouldn’t exist. So … happy now?”

  “Yes, I am.” He pulled her into the curve of his left arm and Leona into his right. “I’m a blessed man.” After kissing each of their cheeks, he released them and turned to Grace. “Time to eat?”

  She pointed at the doorway leading to the special bedrooms they had built on. “Here comes Konrad.”

  Miles applauded. Konrad limped through the doorway, but he wasn’t using a crutch.

  “I’m walking without part of a tree to help me!” He had a huge smile on his face, and his blue eyes danced with cheerfulness.

  “That’s a great Christmas gift,” Miles murmured.

  Konrad hugged his uncle’s neck and gave Ella a kiss on the forehead. “Wow, my cousin gets prettier all the time.”

  “You are such a nice cousin!” She smiled and bounced Emma on her hip.

  Grace said, “I think she’s got two of my brothers willing to fight over who marries her.”

  Everyone laughed but Ella. Her thoughts flashed back to Jim’s revolted stare when he saw her damaged skin. Ignoring the ache in her chest, she tried to smile. “Which brothers are you talkin’ about? Duncan and I sure had a nice talk the last time he was home.”

  “Whoa, ho!” Miles clapped his hands. “Keep them all guessing.” He helped Leona take her seat at the table.

  Grace sighed. “Between you and her, we may not be able to have a serious conversation at this table. Ella Dessa, you may put Emma on the blanket, by my end of the bench. She’ll play on the floor while we eat. She likes to nibble food I give her.”

  Ella placed the baby girl on the blanket and slipped onto the bench beside Leona. They all held hands by reaching sideways and over the table. Konrad cleared his throat.

  “Our Heavenly Father, thank you for your Son. If it weren’t for Him, we wouldn’t know the peace you give. As we eat this meal, draw us closer together. The blessings we have received since Ella Dessa joined the family group cannot be measured. Be with Grace’s mother and family up on the mountain. May they have a lovely Christmas. Protect us later, as we visit them. We praise you. Amen.”

  #

  Later in the day, Ella watched the shock on the children’s faces as Walter made the unexpected announcement of a new baby. The biggest reaction came from Agatha. She laid a chubby hand against her ample bosom and gasped for air.

  “Oh! Never in my wildest dreams did I s’pose that were it. I thought our Ella Dessa might be gettin’ married.”

  Ella blushed. “No!”

  “Mama, I’m so happy.” Carrie placed a sweet kiss on Velma’s cheek. The smiling woman hugged her daughter’s tiny waist, and the other children crowded close.

  “When?” Remy wanted to know.

  “Middle of June—first of July.” Her hand smoothed Adam’s mop of black hair. “Won’t it be fun to haves another baby in the hou
se? Adam’s all grown up. He’s three.”

  Mae grabbed Rosemary’s hand. “We’ll help with the baby. I want a girl.”

  “Girl!” Scott exclaimed. “We need a boy!”

  “Whoa.” Walter lifted his hand. “I just pray for a healthy child.” He placed his hand on Velma’s shoulder. “Your mother wanted us to make this announcement on Christmas, as part of our gifts to you.” His loving gaze included his sister, Agatha, and her two foster daughters. “This child will have many relatives.”

  Ella slipped away and stood on the porch of the double-pen cabin. The weather was mild for December, but still chilly. The longing for spring, bright flowers, and summer’s songbirds made her melancholy.

  She stared at the low mountains lining the edge of the semicircular cove. Only the pines produced true color. Everything else was deep gray, dull brown, black, or shades in between. With her fingers clutching the shawl tighter to her chest, Ella leaned on one of the porch supports.

  A cow’s bell jangled.

  She noticed one of their cows raise its head and stare in the direction of the store. She pushed away from the post and stepped where she could see the rear platform. A tall man in a ragged coat paced the length of the platform and then went back to tug on the rear door. The tilt of his chin and lengthy black hair told her who it was.

  Josh.

  How peculiar, she thought. She backed up and tried to slip out of his line of sight, but he turned and spied her.

  His long legs ate up the distance, and he stopped beside the steps. He stared up at her. “Ella Des … sa?”

  “When’d you come back?”

  His sunken eyes reflected hunger, weariness, and a fraction of something she failed to identify. Uneasy, she repeated the question.

  Josh swallowed, shook his head like a man coming out of a trance. “No one’s at the store.”

  “It’s closed. It’s Christmas.”

  “Christmas? Oh, yes … I see.” His black eyes widened.

  Pity made her wish she could freely ask him to join them. He looked like he could use a hot meal, and he had no family.

  “Where’s your horse?”

  “Tied out front.” He waved his cold-reddened hand at the store. “It’s limpin’ bad.”

  Deer bounded toward the porch from the corncrib. His growls and barks caused Josh to clench his fists.

  “Make him stop.”

  “Deer! Hush!” Ella clapped her hands. The dog whined, circled Josh, and slipped under the porch.

  Walter opened the door. “Here she is,” he called over his shoulder, and then caught sight of Josh. “You back, again?”

  Josh nodded.

  “What do you need?”

  “I need to buy gloves.”

  “We’re not open.” The big man stepped out on the porch and folded his shirt-covered, hefty arms over his barrel chest. “Where’ve you been? Some men said they saw you down in Dahlonega, around the slaughter pens and along one of the streams where they were pannin’ gold.”

  An odd look passed over Josh’s face. His beardless cheeks appeared chapped by the cold. “I were there a few days.”

  Walter stared at him. “You hungry?”

  “Yes.”

  “You got a place to stay?” Walter’s voice sounded gruff, and his eyes narrowed behind the wire-rimmed spectacles.

  Josh shrugged. “Same spot. The old place on Fling’s Creek. No one’s usin’ it.”

  Walter backed up. “Wait there.”

  A frown showed under the brim of Josh’s dirty hat, which creased his forehead. “Why’d he say that?” He stepped backwards, wary and confused.

  “I reckon he’s gettin’ you a bite to eat. We’ve plenty.” She wrapped her shawl across her arms and tried to ward off the cold air. “Josh, why do you come and go from the cove? Why do you run off so often?”

  “I go see friends. Work a little.” He coughed. “I panned for gold at Bear Creek an’ Ward’s Creek. Bought a new weapon—old, but new to me. It’s on my saddle.” His dark-lashed eyes never left her face. “Cherokees are all gone. The woods are silent, ‘cept for the White Man’s minin’ an’ tillin’ up Indian soil.” He spat at the bare ground near his feet. “Makes my throat clog. Now, there’s wealthy, no-good white men drivin’ old settlers from homesteads. This holler ain’t goin’ to stay hidden. The bad strangers will move in. Gold is God.”

  “No, it’s not. God made the gold,” she replied. She took a sterner stance. “Why are you so angry? My friends—people here in this cove didn’t drive the Indians out. We were neighbors, traded with ‘em, paid money for land, and exchanged seeds and goods. I recall that as a child.”

  “Most white men are thieves.”

  “No. The men here ain’t part of the rowdies and uncouth gover’ment men who schemed to force the Indians out of these mount’ins. All those men wanted was a clear way to steal gold. I recall my mama savin’ some of our garden to use for tradin’ with our Indian neighbors. We hailed them as our friends, and they gave us blankets. Mama baked bread for ‘em.”

  Josh didn’t say a thing in response. He turned his face toward the upper ridge.

  “You dig the gold,” she reminded him. “Yet, other men shouldn’t?”

  Before he could answer, Walter came out with a covered basket. He walked to the edge of the porch and handed it down.

  “There’s some good vittles. They’ll warm your insides tonight. Going to be dark soon.”

  “Feels heavy.” Josh hefted the full basket, and the cloth cover flapped.

  “Enjoy it.” Ella caught the scent of Velma’s cooked ham and Agatha’s warm pie made from dried blueberries, but her thoughts went back to another such basket, and Josh bidding the highest price.

  “Thank you. It’ll keep away … winter’s death. Have a nice … Christmas.”

  She shuddered at his stilted words. “Merry Christmas, Josh. I must go in. I’m sure we’ll see each other ag’in.” She didn’t stop to hear his reply, ducked inside, and shut the door. Through the log walls, she heard Walter’s rumbling voice still talking to him.

  Velma studied her face. “You’re pale.”

  “Just cold.” She extended her freezing hands to the fire. “Things sure smell good in here.”

  “We’ll eat soon.” Velma pretended to straighten bowls set on the table. “Has he left?”

  “No.” She rolled her shoulders and tried to loosen the achy feeling in them.

  “He makes you tense.”

  “Girdle a tree, an’ you kill it. When he comes ‘round, I feel like such a tree. I thought the incident with the basket, at the dance, cured him of seekin’ me out. Why does he keep comin’ back?”

  “He’s in love?”

  Carrie spoke up. “He’s not in love. He’s just wantin’ Ella. Josh has that look in his eye.”

  Velma turned. “Wantin’ her?”

  “Yes.” Carrie faced her mama, stiff arms at her sides. “The way a man is when he wants, but doesn’t care ‘bout you. I know how it is.” One hand clenched into a fist.

  Ella’s mouth fell open. There was a hint of accusation in the girl’s words and tone.

  “I’m not sure we should talk here—now—in the kitchen. Besides, it’s Christmas. Josh just wanted to be fed.” Velma’s face went pale. “Ella, help me set the food on the table. Carrie, call everyone to come.” The woman’s hands shook. She snatched up a towel and reached for a bubbling kettle of corn hanging over the fire.

  #

  “Carrie? You asleep?” Ella snuffed out the candle, slipped into the sagging bed with the teen, and tucked her stocking feet up under her long nightgown. The room was cold and dark, and she could hear the wintry night wind whistle through cracks in the clay chinking. Two other beds crowded the girls’ room, leaving just enough space to walk between them, but at least they had beds and not pallets in a freezing loft.

  Carrie rolled over in the dark and sighed. “I’m awake.”

  “I have to know. Why did you say that to your ma
ma?”

  She groaned. “Don’t know. This voice in my head kept urgin’ me to tell her.”

  “Tell her?”

  “What happened.”

  “With your pappy? Things—from years past?”

  The cornhusk mattress rustled. “Yes.”

  “Oh Carrie, Christmas isn’t the time to do it. Did you see your mama’s face?”

  “I think she’s always known my pappy hurt me. He were bad.” The younger girl felt around and covered Ella’s hand in hers. Her cold fingers squeezed. “I shouldn’t have spoke out. It just twisted in my head—after what she said ‘bout Josh lovin’ you.”

  “I reckon I know what you mean.” She laid her head on the flat pillow and sighed. “But tell her when it’s sunny and bright outside, with no one to hear. Dark things need to be brought to the light. But don’t let the whole house know. He’s dead. It’s the past. Your mama’s goin’ to anguish over it—to hear you tell the truth. I figger she felt somethin’ happened, but she never outright asked. Maybe she cain’t handle the guilt—the perchance she could’ve stopped it.”

  Carrie breathed deep and whispered in the dark, “If she had asked him, he’d have killed her. He were cold-blooded. He hurt me. She had all of us to protect an’ was trapped. We were all glad when he died, crushed by the creek bank that caved in.”

  “I remember Josh and the other man brought the news. Your mama didn’t cry.”

  “Nope. An’ I did wrong today. I’ll try to wait to tell her. A day of sunshine will make the truth seems lighter—not so nasty.” She sniffled, and her arm moved in the dark, bumping Ella’s side. “I got past it. Someday, I want a good man to love me.” A silent sob shook the bed. “I want to forget!”

  “There’ll be someone to love you.” She patted Carrie’s shoulder. “He’ll think you’re special like I do. Ethan sits near you at school. I believe he has feelin’s for you.”

  “Ella?” Carrie’s fingers gripped her shoulder. “Stay a fer piece away from Josh. Even when he came years ago, with news of Pappy, he stared at you in a bad way. That’s not love.”

  “I’ll try not to be alone with ‘im.”

  Carrie curled up, her nightgown-clad knees resting against Ella’s side. “Can you see Samuel loves you?”