The Fire in Ember - DiAnn Mills [31]
“You heard me.”
“If the good Lord says it’s my time to go, there’s not a thing I can do.”
“But there’s no point in shaking your fist and defying Him.”
Bert hid her laughter. Leah would win out. She always did. She seldom raised her voice at her sons. Instead she spoke with a firmness that demanded obedience. Thunder shook the house again and caused Davis to startle.
“There went a tree in the corral,” John said. “Right over the fence. I’m heading out there.”
“John!” Leah grabbed her robe.
“Yes ma’am.”
“Uprooted quick as you please,” Evan added. “Good thing it’s raining. The spark could have caused a lot of damage.”
“That means we’ll need to ride to the higher pastures and check on the cattle,” John said. “Not exactly how I planned to spend my Sunday morning.”
“Not until the storm stops and we have church,” Leah said.
John chuckled. “Yes ma’am.”
“At least Oberlander’s mare and Racer are in the barn.” Evan’s words caused Bert to breathe easier. That mare had been the cause of a lot of discontent.
Another jagged sword crossed the sky with thunder resounding from its blade. A light from the kitchen revealed one of the boys had lit the lantern.
“I’m chasing Davis out of here right now so Ember and I can get dressed. Some hot coffee and breakfast would taste real good.”
“Ember?” John said. “When did you start calling Bert by another name?”
“Since I learned her mother named her Ember.” Leah gently coaxed Davis to his feet, and the boy scurried out of the room.
“How about a last name?” John said.
Bert looked over at Leah. “That’s my secret. But I could be related to Billy the Kid or the James Brothers or the Dalton Gang. Do you really want to know?” The truth sent a shiver up her spine, but she refused to acknowledge it.
“You’ve been around Mama too long and picking up her wit,” John said.
“I’ll take that as a compliment, John Timmons.” Bert started to laugh. Amidst the storm capable of waking the dead, they all took to laughing like crazy folks.
While she dressed, she comprehended that real families laughed together a lot. It felt good, real good. Almost like she belonged.
But she didn’t.
Ember. John rolled the name around in his head. Bert was a better name. Safer. Now how was Mama able to learn her name when he’d about run out of ways to persuade Bert to tell him a thing?
He shoved another dry log into the stove and poured himself a second cup of coffee. He wanted to get outside and check on the fence and the livestock, but not until the storm died down along with the wind. Truth be known, Mama’s wrath, if he ignored her orders of staying out of the weather, outdid any storm. When Pa was alive and Mama was unhappy, he used to say dynamite came in small sticks.
Next to him Bert peeled potatoes for breakfast while Mama rolled out biscuits. Evan had sliced bacon, no doubt so he could be closer to Bert, and Aaron beat a bowlful of eggs.
Mark had already set the table and was pacing the kitchen. A wildcat could be kept in a box easier than Mark inside the house. John caught his eye and winked; he and Mark were so much alike. Except that John had work outside bearing down on his mind, while Mark needed the outside to make him feel whole.
John stole a look at Bert. His big brother talk with Evan had been as successful as spitting into the wind. John had not accomplished a thing except to learn Evan was thinking about a future with Bert. He was still uncomfortable with how that made him feel. Uncle Parker had told him once that how a man felt about a woman was a powerful emotion. Love could cause a man to be more than he ever dreamed possible or do things so evil that only the devil would have him for company. Thank goodness John wasn’t in love.
A small cry escaped Bert’s lips and jolted John back to the present. He glanced her way and saw the blood dripping down her finger into the bucket of potato peelings. Moving quickly, he reached for a towel and wrapped it around her finger.