The Fire in Ember - DiAnn Mills [11]
Her gaze swept to the fields of wildflowers, their colors prettier than anything a human could paint. Maybe someday she’d have a dress with some of those same pinks, yellows, and blues. The songbirds serenaded all around her … comforting, peaceful. In the distance a herd of elk grazed on Timmons land. The branchlike antlers of the males gave them a noble look. The herd reminded her of small towns where everyone had a job to do. To the east of the elk, a few deer stood like statues, silhouetted against the mountains. These graceful animals held her attention the most. Perhaps their ability to take flight when startled reminded her too much of herself.
Every day brought Simon closer to finding her, and she couldn’t ever stop looking over her shoulder. In the meantime, she owed John Timmons four months of hard work for what he’d done.
But what about the bath tonight?
An idea landed right smack in her brain. She’d take her bath while the others were eating their supper. She’d say she wasn’t hungry. Miss Leah had already told her about a clean set of clothes. Problem solved, at least for today. Bert grinned at Rowdy, who’d turned his head sideways as if trying to figure her out. A song popped into her head.
I know a dog named Rowdy
As fine as he could be.
When he walked up, wagged his tail,
I knew he was a friend to me.
Leah straightened from removing dried clothes from the line. She stretched her back and followed Bert’s lone figure pushing the wheelbarrow back to the barn. She’d walked to the garden near the manure pile to ask Bert if he wanted some water and heard every word from the boy’s mouth. Bert’s confession to Rowdy settled on Leah’s shoulders like the threat of a summer storm. How could one so young be in trouble or have to tell lies to cover up the truth?
She decided not to ask about the water and simply take it to him once she finished pulling the clothes from the line. Still she fretted and worried about Bert as if he were one of her own. She turned her head to bathe her face with the coolness of a north wind, then swung her attention back to Bert. The longer she watched the boy, the more suspicious she became. Taking a deep breath, she reached up to remove John’s shirt from the clothesline and shake it soundly before folding it. Surely her inclination had come from a part of her mind where logic had taken flight. What a far-fetched notion. Unless it was true.
Sure would make John’s mood more understandable, if her poor son had any clue whatsoever about his emotions. She startled. Oh my, Evan too, and Aaron. What a kettle of burnt beans whipped across her motherly instincts. None of the boys had mentioned Bert’s way of staying to himself. It could all be very explainable: the boy had spent a rough young life; he was afraid; he didn’t trust anyone.
All very true, but … Nonsense. Leah knew the truth about her suspicions as well as she knew her own name, and tonight was bath night. Goodness, what a dilemma, and she needed time to think. For now, she had wash to gather off the line, peas to shell, and a simmering roast to check on for supper.
Tonight could be very interesting.
CHAPTER 6
John listened to the conversation around the supper table. Someday his brothers would all be grown men, and when it happened, he hoped they remembered the lively discussions when they gathered for a meal. This is where the brothers forgot about branding time, mucking stalls, riding fence and repairing them, chasing down strays, repairing tools, curing skins and tanning hides, shoeing horses, and the countless other never-ending jobs.
“Mama, I’ll never get married until I find a cook as good as you.” Mark, who had dipped from the roast platter three times, rubbed his stomach.
“I thought you said cows were better company than women,” Evan said.
“I did.” Mark grinned. “I’ll need a quiet woman who cooks like Mama.”
“Impossible.” John swallowed