The Fire in Ember - DiAnn Mills [32]
“Are you all right?”
“Oh my, yes. Just cut my finger. I should be more careful.” Her face turned a soft shade of pink. He’d seen the same color in wildflowers.
“Mama has some small strips of cloth we can wrap around it, even some medicine if it’s cut deep.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” She peered into the bowl of potatoes soaking in saltwater. “Good, there’s no blood on them, but I’ll rinse those potatoes again to make sure.”
John glanced down and saw he still held her fingers wrapped with the towel. Swallowing hard, he dropped her hand as though he’d been burned. When he stepped back, he saw Evan glaring at him, and his brothers watching on. Snatching up his hat and poncho from a wooden peg near the door, he stepped out onto the porch with the thunder and lightning shaking the earth while rain formed huge puddles between the house and barn.
He’d made a complete fool out of himself in front of his whole family. For the first time, he considered calling Bert’s debt paid and allowing her to go free. At least he and Evan wouldn’t be at each other’s throats over the same girl.
My mind should be on ranching. His efforts needed to be on the land and all the work required to support his family. Anything else was pure foolishness. All he needed do was believe it. Instead he seemed to be split in two like the uprooted cotton-wood in the corral.
He snorted. It was a cottonwood that had introduced him to Bert.
The door opened, and Mama joined him, closing the door behind her. “You’ve been out here a good thirty minutes.”
He didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. “I’m watching the storm.”
“You could get struck by lightning.”
Odd, he hadn’t noticed the storm outside for the one inside of him. “So could you.”
“Love means you take a few risks.”
Now what did she mean?
“Breakfast’s ready,” Mama said. “Then we’ll have church. Would you read from Luke 15 this morning?”
That’s just dandy. The prodigal son. Which one of us is she thinking needs the reminder the most?
CHAPTER 14
Monday morning, Leah fretted with the wagonload of trouble that had been dumped in the middle of the Timmonses’ household. And the pile kept getting bigger. The animosity between John and Evan had extended beyond boyhood squabbles to serious problems, which had the potential of destroying their relationship. And she was at her wits’ end to figure out how to deal with the whole situation.
The boys’ simmering anger reminded her of when she, Frank, and Parker were young people living in Virginia. She and Parker were two fifteen-year-olds when sweet love attached itself to them. Then Parker’s older brother Frank moved into the picture and swept her off her feet. She loved Frank and never regretted marrying him, but she regretted hurting Parker. The rift between the brothers took two decades to heal, and Leah would not let that happen in her household.
Merciful beans and cornbread. What was she to do? If Frank were alive, he’d sit those boys down and explain the powers and dangers a woman possessed over a man. John and Evan, as different as night and day. Both falling for the same sweet-faced woman—a woman with a shadowed past. A woman who could hurt them, could separate them as brothers.
Since the afternoon she first realized Bert was a girl, she rubbed calluses on her knees praying for her sons and Bert.
She’d picked everything in the garden and preserved all she could find.
She’d pulled weeds.
She’d scrubbed the house until not a speck of dirt could be found.
She’d beaten her scant rugs and then beaten them some more.
Not a sock needed darned or a hole sewn.
The washing was done—for now.
Taking a deep breath, she walked out onto the front porch. The temperatures were scorching, adding heat to her mounting anxiety. Sighing, she chose to visit the small corral where Racer and Victor Oberlander’s mare were courting.
Courtin'. Leah wished she’d never heard the word. John and Evan vied for Ember’s attention. Praise God the girl had the sense to ignore both of them.
Victor Oberlander and his request the other day had amused and perplexed her.