The Fire in Ember - DiAnn Mills [54]
If he didn’t know better, he’d swear self-pity had set in. Which sounded as bad as an infection.
But he knew the problem and it had nothing to do with the burning in his arm. A knock at the door interrupted his woebegone thinking.
“Come in.”
The door slowly opened, and there before him stood the object of most of his turmoil.
John observed Bert holding a cloth-covered plateful of what his nose detected as chicken ‘n’ dumplings, and it shook like it was alive. If she didn’t set the plate down soon, she was going to drop his food. He hadn’t seen her so nervous since the night of the family meetin', after they learned she was a girl. The smell of chicken ‘n’ dumplings caused his stomach to complain. Of course, Bert being there made the moment uncomfortable — and well, pleasant. She couldn’t be mixed up in this rustlin'.
“Thanks for bringing me supper. Why don’t you put it on the table here by the lantern?”
She obliged and reached inside her dress pocket for a fork and spoon. “You’re welcome.”
“Widow Bess is a good woman.” He took the utensils with his right hand. She handed him a blue checkered cloth, but when he attempted to spread it over the quilt, she took the cloth and smoothed it over him. Her touch felt strangely intimate. Now he was shaking. “Were you busy this afternoon?”
“Yes. Bess had lots of chores, but she’s the caring type. Kind … and blunt.”
He chuckled and took a bite of a tender dumpling. “She doesn’t hold back anything. How was prayer meetin'?” The food melted in his mouth. Oh, these were good.
“Interesting.”
He grinned but she didn’t appear to calm down in the least. “Did she do the prayin'?”
“A lot at the end. She talked about a passage in James.”
John studied her. Her gaze darted like a scared animal. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me what’s bothering you?”
She stiffened. “Nothing.”
Her speech had improved. When Bert first came, her grammar needed help. That must be what Mama was doing when they went to bed early.
“I can’t remember if you heard what happened. But it looks like Leon’s the one who’s been rustling cattle, and now he’s gone.” John paused. “I don’t relish the idea of any man dying, especially the way he did. He lived hard and died hard. My point is your name will be cleared as soon as the cattle are found along with whoever was working with him.”
She nodded and wrung her hands in her lap. “I’m relieved.”
“I suppose I can take you back to the ranch.” He hadn’t resolved the issue of how he and Evan could be civil to each other with her there. “Unless you’d rather work for Bess and live here in town.”
“Living in town might be easier for all of us.” She stood. “I’ll be going now.”
“So soon? I’m not running you off. You could wait until I’m finished and take the plate back with you.”
“With your wounded arm, you need your rest.”
“I’m fine, and rest to me is anything that doesn’t require work.”
Bert looked at everything in the room but him. “Bess has things for me to do.”
“I see. Thanks for bringing me supper. Tell Bess the chicken ‘n’ dumplin’s were tasty.”
“I’ll pass it on.” She grasped the doorknob. “I hope you heal fast. In case I’ve never thanked you proper, I’m doing so now. You saved my life and introduced me to your family. Miss Leah and your brothers are wonderful. I’ll never forget any of you. It’s been like a real family.”
“You’re … unforgettable too.” He allowed his mind to trail backward to the moment on the riverbank when he learned she was a girl.
She smiled a good-bye, and in the lantern light playing off the walls, she looked sweet, pretty. Her light brown hair reminded him of fresh honey, and she wore a green dress no doubt borrowed from one of Bess’s girls. But decent in its … coverage. He remembered when Sage was shot, and Bess found a dress for her. Five years,