The Amazon Quest (House of Winslow Book #25)

by Gilbert, Morris

  Emily shivered. “They may be gone on a trip.”

  “Well, we’ll have to stay here until daylight, that’s for sure. Let’s see what we can find.”

  The search did not take long. He found plenty of hay in the loft. He climbed down and walked to one of the stalls and said, “Look, horse blankets! They may smell a little ripe, but they’ll keep us warm.” There were three of them, and James said, “Here, wrap up in this blanket. I’ll throw down enough straw for a bed so we can cover up. At least we won’t have to sleep on the ground.”

  “You think we’ll have to stay here all night?” Emily said with alarm.

  “The only other choice is to walk down the road until we find somebody. I may do that, but you can’t. Let’s get you fixed up first. Then I’ll think about it.”

  James raked straw until he had made a large pile. “Wrap this blanket around you and lie down.”

  “There’s no way to make a fire, I suppose.”

  “Not in here.”

  Emily wrapped the blanket around her and lay down. James put another one over her, covering her feet. “It smells horsy,” she said.

  “Not surprised.” Wrapping the other blanket around him, James lay down beside her and felt her shivering. “It’s cold in here. The blankets help a little bit, but I’m afraid it’s going to be a cold night.”

  They lay there silently, and Emily was acutely aware of the rank odors of the hay and of the smell of manure. The wind seemed to be brushing against the outside of the barn, almost as if it were saying, “Let me in.” Fear came over her, and she whispered, “I’ve never been in trouble quite like this before.”

  “I have,” James said. He moved closer and threw his arm around her, sharing his blanket with her. “Three blankets are better than two,” he said. His lips were close to her cheek, and he said, “I had to spend the night once in a boxcar in North Dakota. Now, that was cold. No hay, no blankets, nothing but a thin coat. I kept myself awake—afraid I’d freeze to death. I still remember how my teeth chattered. They sounded like dice clicking together.”

  “What were you doing there?”

  “Oh, hoboing.”

  As they shared the warmth, Emily realized that she had no fear at all of James himself. The thought came to her, What if this had happened with Buck Leatherwood or somebody like that? I’d be helpless. Thankful for James’s protection, she snuggled against him, feeling the warmth of his body. “I’m getting warmer,” she said.

  “Good. We’ll make it. You’re just not used to roughing it like this. We had a terrible cold spell once in the trenches. I thought we were all going to die. Jared and I wrapped up in whatever blankets we had, just about like this. We laughed about how close we’d become! But our kidding around was just to keep away the fear.”

  His story sobered Emily as she thought of her brother, and the two fell silent again. She was aware of the warmth of his breath on her cheek. He did not speak for a long time, and she finally asked, “What are you thinking?”

  “I was just remembering a time once when I was in Tennessee. It was night, and I hadn’t been able to get a ride, so I just kept on walking. It was summer. Warm, not like this, and I passed by some houses. All of them had lights on, and I kept looking in. Some of the people were eating supper, and I could see them. Others were in the living room just being together talking, I suppose. I remember thinking, ‘Those people have everything.’ ”

  Emily felt a rush of compassion. “Why haven’t you ever married?”

  “I’ve got nothing to offer a woman, Emily. You ought to know that.”

  “That’s not true.”

  He turned his head suddenly to look at her, and by the yellow light of the lantern he saw that her eyes were wide open, and she was watching him carefully. His arm was around her, and she was pressed close against him. She was warmer now and not so afraid, and as he held her, he said, “I shouldn’t have let us get in this kind of a mess.”

  “It’s not your fault. I was the one who wanted to come.”

  James watched the small changes around her lips as she spoke. He remembered the sweetness of those lips when they had kissed under the mistletoe at her grandmother’s house. The lantern caught the red tints in her hair, and he said without meaning to, “You’re a beautiful woman, Emily.”

  She reached out and put her hand on the back of his neck. “I would be terrified with most men in a situation like this, but I’m not afraid of you.”

  “Maybe you should be.”

  “No, you’d never hurt me, James.”

  Her confidence warmed him, and he said, “I’ve never known anybody like you.” He leaned forward and kissed her lightly, and then he drew his head back. “Could I ask you something, Emily?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know how to say this. You’ve got your life planned out. You’re going to college next year and you’re going to become a writer.”

  He broke off suddenly, and Emily half gave him a shake. “What are you going to ask?”

  “I’ve never felt about any woman as I do about you. When I first came here I thought you were just a kid, but you’re not. You’re a fine woman. And I was wanting to ask you if I could court you.”

  The words sounded strange, even artificial, to Emily. “Court me? What do you mean?”

  “I mean, could we just do some fun things together? Not be engaged or anything like that. Nothing serious.”

  Emily Winslow sensed a tremendous void of loneliness in this man. He was like no other man she had ever met. All of the men she had known had carried the full weight of a family history and of friendship, but James had no family. He had no family expectations to live up to, no future plans. He just wanted her companionship. She reached up and put her hand on his cheek and whispered, “Yes, you may court me, James.”

  ****

  “I’m sorry if you were worried, Mom and Dad, but there was absolutely nothing we could do.”

  Emily stood beside James in the hallway. They had come in to find her parents waiting for her, and Aaron had spoken almost harshly. “Where have you two been?”

  Emily had not allowed James to speak. She had quickly told about the car sliding into the ditch, but she did not tell them about the time in the barn. Instead she said hurriedly, “So we had to walk until we got help.”

  “I’m awfully sorry, too. I can’t tell you both how bad I feel,” James said.

  “It wasn’t his fault,” Emily said. “He wanted to come home before the service, but I wouldn’t let him.”

  “How’d you get out of the ditch?”

  “James found a farmer, and he pulled us out with his tractor. But it took time and there was no telephone.”

  Gail knew that Aaron was angry, and she herself was concerned. “I’m afraid you were very unwise, Emily.”

  “I know it, Mother,” Emily said contritely.

  “Well, no harm came of it,” Aaron said. He heaved a sigh of relief and put his hand on Emily’s shoulder. “You don’t know how we worried.”

  “Yes I do, Dad,” Emily said quickly. “I’m so sorry.”

  Gail watched Emily’s face, and then her gaze shifted to James. She said nothing, but later when she was alone with Emily, she asked, “Were you very afraid when you were isolated out there?”

  “Not for a minute, Mother.” Emily knew what was on her mother’s mind. “I thought to myself when we were stuck there, ‘If this were anybody but James, I’d be in trouble. And I’d be afraid.’ But I wasn’t afraid for one moment. He did everything he could to take care of me, and I kept waiting for him to do something that, you know, was out of line. But he never did.”

  Gail studied her daughter’s face, and then she said a strange thing. “Be careful with James.”

  “What do you mean, Mother?”

  “I mean the heart is a deceitful thing.”

  “My heart?”

  “Anyone’s heart.”

  Emily did not answer. She felt her parents’ disapproval, and it hurt
her. But she did not know what to say that would change their minds. “I trust James,” she said.

  “Be careful,” her mother said again, then turned and left Emily standing there wondering what her admonition meant.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Behind the Mask

  Burrow’s Jewelry Store was practically empty. Only one customer besides Aaron and James moved along the glass cases, and the two clerks looked bored stiff.

  “I’d hate to be a jewelry salesman,” Aaron remarked, taking in the expressions on the faces of the two clerks.

  “Why’s that?” James inquired.

  “After the Christmas rush, all through the month of January, nobody’s buying jewelry. They might as well close up. I can’t imagine standing on my feet all day long trying to look busy when there is absolutely nothing to do.”

  It was the twenty-second day of January, and the two men had come shopping for gifts for Emily’s birthday. Aaron had known that James had very little money, so he had approached him by saying, “I haven’t been paying you much money for your apprenticeship, James.” He had given him a check, and James had stared at it and then had shaken his head. “That’s too much,” he had said.

  But Aaron had insisted, and now the two moved slowly along. Aaron had already bought his gift at Miner’s Department Store, a beautiful brush and comb inlaid with ivory, but James had seen nothing that he particularly liked. They had wandered into several shops, and now James stopped before a line of pencils and pens. “That’s a beautiful set,” he said. “But it’s out of my price range.”

  Aaron looked at the set and said, “Go ahead, if that’s what you’d like to get Emily.”

  “No. I’ve got barely enough,” James said.

  The clerk, a short, heavyset man with a pale complexion and light blue eyes, approached them. “May I help you?” he asked.

  “Would it be possible to get that set engraved?” James asked.

  “Why, yes, sir. We can have it back tomorrow.”

  “I’m afraid it would have to be today. It’s for a birthday gift, and I’ve waited until almost too late.”

  “Well, I think that can be arranged,” the clerk said quickly. He pulled a card from his pocket and said, “Just write what you would like on here.”

  James wrote a few words and handed it to the man.

  “Come back at five o’clock,” the clerk said. “They’ll both be ready by then. A beautiful set, I might say. The finest I’ve ever seen.”

  “That’s a good gift for a writer,” Aaron remarked as they left the store. “Emily is very serious about a writing career.”

  “Yes, she is. I don’t know much about writing, but it seems to me she has a natural talent.”

  “Well, I know a little bit, and all prejudice aside,” Aaron smiled, “I think she does. But it’s a hard, competitive profession. It’s like professional sports. Every young man wants to pitch for the Yankees or the Braves, but only a few of them will make it.”

  The two walked along the main street, and Aaron spoke of Wes and his desire to be a photographer. “I think that’s even a more competitive field than writing. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I can name one famous photographer.”

  “I can’t either, but someone has to take those pictures. Wes does such a great job. You’ve got two fine children, Mr. Winslow.” He hesitated, then said, “I’ve told you before, but I’ll have to say again how much I appreciate all you’ve done for me.”

  “Don’t speak of it. After what you did for my son, I’m pleased to be able to do anything I can.” As Aaron said this, he noticed an odd expression cross the face of James Parker that he could not identify. It seemed to be a mix of tension and something very close to fear. He could not imagine what was going on in the young man’s mind. As a rule Aaron was good at knowing people, but despite the openness that James often displayed, there was a side of him Aaron could not understand—a wall that he could not pass through. He had spoken of this to Gail, and she had agreed. It troubled both of them. Now as they headed for home, Aaron tried to put such thoughts behind him. “You’d better go by and get that gift early,” he said to James as they arrived back at the house. “The party’s at six o’clock.”

  “I’ll do that, sir,” James said.

  “Gail is cooking up a monstrous meal. She always does for every one of our birthdays. We get so stuffed we can’t even look at the presents.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” James said with a half smile. “Will there be anyone else there?”

  “No, just the family. When the children were younger we used to have parties for them, but now we just want the time together.”

  ****

  Emily pulled her petticoat over her head and then plucked her party dress from a hanger. It was a white knit frock with a square neck. It had ruffles on the sleeve and around the hem and was a little fancy for just an evening at home, but it was part of the Winslow tradition that they would all dress up in their best for their birthday celebrations. She slipped on her black kidskin slippers with the single strap and then went over to the vanity and began brushing her hair. As she ran the brush down her shining red hair she studied herself in the mirror, trying to decide if she looked any older. As soon as she finished, she got up and went downstairs.

  Going into the kitchen she found her mother putting the finishing touches on the dinner.

  “My goodness it smells good in here,” she said, giving her mother a hug. “Can I help you with anything?”

  “You might mash the potatoes. They’re all cooked.”

  “All right, Mom.” While she was beating the boiled potatoes, Emily was surprised when her mother asked rather cautiously, “How do you feel about James?”

  Quickly Emily looked up. “Why, I like him very much.” When her mother made no reply, she said, “Why do you ask?”

  “I thought you might be attracted to him. You spend so much time with him.”

  Emily flushed slightly. “I . . . I’ve become very fond of him, Mom.”

  At that moment Wes burst into the room. He was wearing a pair of gray flannel slacks and a navy blue sweater over a white shirt. “Hey, what’s holding the dinner up? I’m starved to death.”

  “I bet your very first words were ‘I’m starved to death,’ ” Emily said. “I think we’re almost ready, aren’t we, Mom?”

  “Yes. Wes, help get all of this food on the table.”

  Emily finished with the potatoes, scooped them into a china serving bowl, and carried them into the dining room. James and her father had already come in and taken a seat. She smiled as her father said, “Here’s the birthday girl. You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you, Dad.”

  “A new dress?” James asked.

  “No, I’ve had it almost a year. I guess I must be full-grown finally. For years now it seemed that every time I bought a dress I outgrew it the next day.”

  “You look very nice,” James said warmly.

  As the table began to fill up with steaming bowls and platters, the family was ready to eat. After Aaron said a prayer for God’s blessings on Emily on this special day, they dove into the sumptuous meal of roast chicken with apple-and-walnut stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, green bean casserole, and fresh-baked bread. When they were almost finished, Gail said, “Save some room for cake and ice cream.”

  “I can’t do that, Mom,” Wes said. He puffed his cheeks out. “I’m about to explode right now.”

  “I imagine you’ll be able to arm-wrestle some cake and ice cream down,” Aaron said dryly.

  Turning to James, he said, “Let’s move on into the parlor. We always open presents there.”

  Leaving the dishes where they were, they all went into the parlor and took a seat, except Emily. She stood beside a table that was topped with several gaily colored packages.

  “Open mine first, Emily,” Wes urged.

  Emily looked at the largest package wrapped in showy paper and topped with a huge bow. She started to pick it up, a
nd then her eyes opened wide. “My goodness! What is it? An anvil?”

  “Open it up,” Wes urged. “If you don’t like it, I’ll shoot you.”

  Emily laughed and took the bow off. Inside was a box, and when she opened the lid, she exclaimed, “The works of Charles Dickens! All of them! Oh, what a wonderful gift, but you must have spent a fortune for it.”

  “If you like it, that’s all that counts,” Wes said. He stood up as Emily came over and gave him a hug.

  “I can’t think of anything I’d like better,” Emily said. “I’ve checked out Dickens books so much from the library, they hate to see me coming.”

  Emily insisted on pulling out every volume. They were well bound, and she opened one, saying, “I love the smell of books—the paper and ink—and just holding them in my hands.”

  The books were dutifully admired, and then Emily picked up the smallest package. “I’ve always heard the best things come in small packages.” She looked at the card and said, “Thank you, James.”

  “You haven’t even opened it yet. You might hate it.”

  Emily shook her head and smiled, then removed the paper. Inside was a small plush felt-covered box, and when she opened it she did not speak for a moment. She looked up at James and then shook her head. “You shouldn’t have done this, James. You shouldn’t have.”

  “What is it?” Wes said. “Let me see.”

  Everyone crowded around, and Emily picked up the gold pen and read the inscription aloud. Written in beautiful script, it said, “To Emily Winslow—Proverbs 31:25.”

  “Proverbs 31:25? I don’t know that one,” Aaron said.

  James quoted the verse with a smile. “ ‘Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.’ ”

  “See if it writes,” Wes urged.

  “Well, it doesn’t have any ink in it,” James said quickly. “I didn’t have time for that.”

  “It’s the most beautiful set I’ve ever seen. I’ll keep it always—and the inscription is beautiful!” Emily’s eyes were bright as diamonds as she looked at James.