by Karen Kirst
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said with mock sternness.
“Customers won’t be seeing those curtains. If you’re happy with them, who am I to suggest you change them?”
Margaret emerged from the second bedroom and beckoned for Ellie. “The bed’s made up. I’ll be happy to brush your hair, if you’d like.”
Ellie touched a hand to her disheveled hair and glanced at him. He smiled and gestured to the kitchen. “I’ll fix you something to drink. How does hot cocoa sound?”
She smiled back at him. “I can’t remember the last time I had any.”
“Then it’s settled.”
He waited in the living area until they’d retreated into the bedroom. It was strange having Ellie in his home, but nice, too. Something he could definitely get used to.
* * *
The remnants of tension slowly ebbed from her body. The long, gentle strokes of the brush through her hair were making her sleepy. Seated before the mirror, she met Margaret’s reflected gaze and smiled.
“Here I was thinking I’d never be able to relax. Now I’m afraid I’m going to fall asleep in this chair.”
Holding the brush to her middle, Margaret bit her lip. “Ellie, I’m sorry.”
Ellie turned on the low stool. “Please don’t apologize again. I don’t blame you. Nothing about this is your fault.”
“But if I hadn’t been reading that newspaper, I would’ve noticed how much time had passed. And you wouldn’t have been stuck down there...”
Ellie suppressed a shudder. She may have only been in the cellar thirty minutes, but it had felt like hours as her ears had strained to identify every scratch and scrape on the earth walls and floors.
Alexander spoke from the doorway. “Who’s ready for a chocolate treat?”
The caution in his eyes told her he’d overheard and that he was as unsettled about her ordeal as she was. Did he share her unease? Did he, like her, wonder if there’d be another prank?
Laying the brush aside, Margaret folded back the quilt and patted the mattress. Her expression conveyed her eagerness to make Ellie comfortable. She felt a bit awkward settling into a bed in Alexander’s quarters, but his sister’s presence alleviated any questions of impropriety. He placed the tray on a trunk at the bed’s foot and, once she was propped against the pillows, brought her a man-size mug. When he offered one to Margaret, she declined.
“I have to finish those pies, remember?”
Alexander rubbed his hand along his clean-shaven jaw. “I don’t think—”
“I’ll leave the main door to the stairs open. And once you’ve enjoyed your chocolate together, you can come down and assist me.”
“I’ll be down in ten.”
After she’d gone, Alexander left the room and returned with a stack of books. He set them on the bed beside her and stood back, sinking his hands deep in his pockets. His darkened gaze kept going to her hair, then to her hands where she cradled the warm mug between them. The memory of his tender ministrations would stay with her a very long time.
“In case you can’t sleep,” he said, nodding at the books.
“Thank you.” Sipping the decadent drink, she said, “You and your sister know how to pamper a person.”
His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks to Rosa. She coddled us any time we were ill or simply had a bad day. My father scolded her but didn’t try to stop her.”
“You can cease worrying about me, you know. I’m perfectly well.”
“Physically, maybe.”
“I admit I may have a few nightmares after this. But the memories will fade.”
Pulling his hands from his pockets, he thrust them through his hair and paced to the window. Taking in the sights of Main Street, he said, “They wanted to scare you. Intimidate you. I don’t want to think what they’ll try next.”
“Me either. However, I have to trust that God will protect me.”
Her words didn’t alleviate his concerns. Quite the opposite. By the look on his face, she knew he was thinking of his wife and child.
“He’s in control, Alex. He has a plan for each and every one of our lives. We may not understand or agree with it. Are you familiar with this verse? ‘All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.’ It’s in the book of Psalms, and I find a unique sense of comfort in that.”
A muscle in his jaw jerked. Retrieving his mug from the tray, he spared her a quick glance. “I’m going to supervise what’s going on downstairs. I’m not sure I trust my sister alone in the kitchen.”
He was passing through the doorway when she called after him. “You won’t know contentment until you make peace with their deaths, Alex.”
He stopped, head bent, knuckles white. “I don’t know how. I don’t even know if I want to let go.”
“You’ll know when you’re ready.” Ellie longed to hold him in her arms and soothe away the pain he clung to so fiercely. “More than anything, I wish my other babies had lived. I wish I was bringing this little one into the world to join her older siblings.”
Alexander dragged his tormented gaze to her, his body unnaturally still.
“That wasn’t God’s plan.”
“I appreciate what you’re trying to say, Ellie.” Lips pressed tightly, he shook his head. “I can’t...” His throat working, he moved into the hallway. “Rest for as long as you’d like.”
Then he was gone, his footsteps clipped as he left the conversation and her.
Chapter Twenty
Ellie did have a nightmare. Instead of being trapped in the cellar, she was outside a long, low house engulfed in flames, watching it burn and powerless to save Alexander. Her mood bleak, she blinked the sleep from her eyes and scooted to a sitting position. The hushed conversation in the other room reached her, and she recognized Alexander’s and Ben’s voices.
Hurriedly putting on her boots and remaking the bed, she found them in the living room. Alexander was seated on the sofa, Ben on one of the cushioned chairs. They both stood to their feet, somber gazes scanning her from head to toe.
“How did you sleep?” Alexander’s expression was schooled.
Was he upset with her? Had she been too blunt?
“Deeply.” She checked the mantel clock and was surprised to see more than two hours had passed. “Hello, Ben. I suppose Alexander related what happened?”
Hat in his hands, the deputy inclined his head. There was no familiar grin. His green eyes communicated the graveness with which he took the situation.
“I’m sorry the sheriff wasn’t able to assist you. He’s investigating a robbery.”
“We know we’re in capable hands with you,” she said.
Ben MacGregor’s reputation was a two-sided coin—he was known as both a consummate flirt and a serious-minded lawman. Those ladies with eligible daughters condemned his commitment to bachelorhood while others said it was typical behavior for a man his age and that he’d settle down eventually. But as far as his profession went, he’d earned respect across the board. He didn’t take his responsibilities to the citizens of Gatlinburg lightly.
“Appreciate that, Ellie. I’m sorry, too, that you were the victim of such a spiteful act.”
“I didn’t think to ask earlier,” Alexander said, “but have they ever done anything like this before?”
“You mean while Nolan was still alive? No. He wouldn’t have stood for it. We had our problems, but he didn’t express his unhappiness in physical ways.”
Ben’s gaze was assessing. “You believe their recent verbal threats are because you’re expecting their grandchild?”
“Yes.”
The men exchanged glances. “I’d like to have a word with them,” Ben said. “You know them better than anyone. Do you think the law’s in
volvement will hurt or help?”
“I honestly can’t say.” She shrugged. “In Kentucky, we kept to ourselves. There wasn’t a lot of interaction with other people, and never with the local law.”
“Before I go out there, I’ll ask around and see if we can find a witness. I’m also going to speak with Flo to try to identify the boys.”
Ellie looked at Alexander. “Are you going?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
The men spoke at once. Ben shifted his stance, the pistol on his hip catching the light streaming through the window. “It’s not a good idea.”
“They need to know I won’t tolerate such behavior directed at Ellie.”
His vehemence surprised her. A casual onlooker would take him for a real fiancé defending the woman he loved. Did Ben not know that part of the story?
But no, it wasn’t an act. He truly cared about her welfare as his employee first, friend second.
“Not this time, Alexander,” Ben said. “Can’t risk it.”
“Why not?” he demanded.
“You’re too emotional.”
Alexander’s eyes went wide. He looked as if he’d been struck dumb. His gaze shot to her, and she could see he was wrestling with some huge truth. Maybe he was chastising himself for ever letting her draw him out of his self-imposed isolation. He hadn’t cared for anyone or anything then. He’d been safe, distanced from the people around him and uninvolved in their problems.
He’d denied regretting helping her, but he was too kind, too polite to willingly wound her.
She suddenly craved privacy. Alexander was likely ready to have his own restored, as well.
“Would you mind escorting me home, Ben?”
“Not at all.”
Alexander shook off his stupor. “I’ll take you.”
“I’ve interrupted enough of your day. Besides, you never did get to go hunting, did you?”
He made a dismissive gesture. “It can wait.”
“Then spend time with your sister while you can.”
He moved closer to the stairs, intercepting Ellie. “Take care of those hands.”
While they were sore, the damage wasn’t as bad as it looked. “The bruises will soon heal.”
Ben walked up behind them. Remembering their respective roles, Ellie reached up and kissed Alexander’s smooth jaw. “See you in the morning, sweetheart.”
She glimpsed his surprise as she turned and descended the steps. The kitchen was deserted. With the café closed, Flo and Sally would’ve gone home. Margaret’s whereabouts were a mystery. Perhaps she’d taken Ellie’s suggestion and gone exploring.
Out back, Ben unhitched his horse. “Would you like to ride?”
“I’d rather stretch my legs.”
He was lost in thought as they left Main Street behind. Leading his horse along the dirt path, he glanced her way, the top portion of his face cast in the shadow of his hat.
“Um, you should know Shane told me about you and Alexander.”
She could feel color creeping up her neck. “I see. So that goodbye kiss was for nothing.”
He flashed a grin. “I wouldn’t say that. Alexander didn’t seem to mind.”
Ellie pretended to be captivated by the forest stretching out on their left.
“I won’t share your secret with anyone.”
“I appreciate that.”
The crunch of leaves beneath their boots mingled with birds’ chirping. “I noticed Sally entering the café this morning,” he said casually.
Grateful for the change of topic, she said, “She asked for her job back.”
“Glad to hear it. I regret the upset I caused her. She’s a sweet girl.”
“She’s going to be fine, Ben. Girls her age are resilient.” She smiled. “In fact, I saw her dancing with a young man last evening who was most attentive.”
“Ah.” His smile was at odds with his shrewd look. “Did you know I have four younger sisters?”
“No, I didn’t.” The farmhouse surrounded by fields, the autumn-arrayed mountain rising behind it, came into view.
“I’m familiar with the fickle nature of young women.”
She paused in the break of the snake and rail fence. “It would be wise not to mistake the challenges of knowing one’s heart with capriciousness. The transition between child and adult is not an easy one.”
“Understood, ma’am.” His smile perfunctory, he waved toward the house. “Would you like me to escort you to the door?”
“That won’t be necessary. Thank you.”
He climbed into the saddle and doffed his hat. “Good day.”
“Be careful. I can’t predict how my in-laws will react, but I doubt it’ll be good.”
“Don’t worry about me. Focus on taking care of yourself and that young ’un.”
Ellie wasn’t ready to share her ordeal with June. Maybe after a good night’s rest and the fresh perspective of a new day. She was in her room preparing for bed when she glimpsed the envelope protruding from her reticule on the dresser. She’d completely forgotten about the letter she’d received bearing a Kentucky address.
Who could possibly be writing to her?
She unsealed the flap and pulled out a single paper with writing on both sides. The faint scent of rose water wafted upward. The signature belonged to Janice Cooper, the reverend’s wife. Ellie’s confusion deepened. Mrs. Cooper had always been kind. After Ellie’s marriage, the other lady had appeared to discern her situation and sympathize with her.
As Ellie read the message, her anxiety returned. She sank onto the bed, limp with shock.
What else did Gladys have in store for her?
* * *
“I can’t believe I get to attend a wedding while I’m here,” Margaret gushed. “I love hearing the vows, watching the bride and groom’s expressions.”
“They’re strangers to you,” Alexander pointed out. And not more than acquaintances to him. He was here for Flo’s sake, as it was her only niece getting married.
He tugged on his shirt collar, thankful the day was overcast. The afternoon ceremony would be held outside at the family’s expansive farm.
“Doesn’t matter,” she said, shrugging. Looking past him at Ellie, who was on his other side on the path, she said, “What was your wedding like, Ellie?”
Ellie dragged her attention from the chairs and wooden bower adorned with flowers to his meddling sister.
“Very simple. It was just the preacher and his wife, Gladys and Howard, and Ralph and Nadine.”
“Did you have a special cake? What did you wear?”
“I wore my best Sunday dress. I would’ve liked to have worn my grandmother’s wedding dress, but there wasn’t time to alter it.”
From what he’d gleaned about her in-laws, they’d no doubt dismissed Ellie’s wishes regarding her special day.
“The reverend’s wife baked a cake.” Worrying her lower lip, she averted her gaze.
How many of her past memories were pleasant? He’d guess not many. The knowledge made him want to make all her days special. Treat her in the way she deserved...with respect and kindness and—
The air left his lungs, and he almost stumbled. His mind had almost gone to a place he’d vowed never to go again. He hadn’t wanted to entwine his life with anyone else’s, and yet here he was, playing fiancé to his widowed, pregnant cook. He absolutely was not going to succumb to fanciful notions about love.
Glancing over at Ellie, delicately beautiful in the same dress she’d worn to the harvest dance, he felt sad at the thought of not spending time with her.
Alexander studied the milling guests on the off chance the Jamesons dared to crash the celebration. Of course he wasn’t in danger of falling in love with Ellie. H
e simply wanted her to be safe and free of harassment. His concern had intensified with the cellar incident last week and was clouded by fear.
After Ben’s official visit to their isolated cove, he had related his conversation with both couples to Alexander. They’d denied being in town that day, but the deputy had gotten the impression they were being less than forthcoming.
“The next time around,” Margaret said as they drew near the gathering, “you should have wedding memories you can treasure and remember with joy.”
“I’m not getting married again,” Ellie protested.
Margaret’s gaze darted to the people closest to them. “That’s not what the people of this town think.”
Ellie looked at Alexander in a silent bid for help, only he didn’t know what exactly she needed from him. Not for the first time these past few days, he wondered if something was bothering her. Something she hadn’t shared. The sparkle in her eyes had vanished, her inherent optimism nowhere to be seen.
Gently drawing Ellie’s arm through his, he aimed for a bright tone. “Thanks for the reminder, little sis. I’d forgotten my role. Now, my dear, where would you like to sit? The ceremony will begin in less than fifteen minutes.”
They found a spot with a decent view of both the musicians and the reverend. He sat between Ellie and his sister. In keeping with their charade, he draped his arm across her chair and leaned close to whisper in her ear.
“What’s the matter, Ellie? You’ve been preoccupied lately.”
Staring straight ahead, she said, “That’s because I received a troubling letter.”
His body tensing, he eased back a fraction. That was not the response he’d anticipated. “From who? The Jamesons?”
Smiling and nodding at a passerby, she murmured, “No, from my former reverend’s wife. Apparently Gladys has been writing what few friends she had in Kentucky and telling them she’s about to become a grandmother.”
“Why does that trouble you?”
Her gaze, turbulent and dark, cut to his. “She’s picked out names, Alex. Ruby Lorraine after her mother if it’s a girl. Nolan Jr. if it’s a boy.”
