Cora's Deception (9781476398280) (7 page)

“I see.” Cora couldn’t stop looking at
Ralph’s sister. At least she assumed that’s who she was. A feminine
version of her brothers, her long, thick black hair had been done
up in two braids, then coiled together at the back of her head. A
creamy complexion covered perfect features on her unsmiling face.
Sooty, long lashes framed large eyes as remarkably blue as her
brothers’.

Cora smiled at her. “I’m Cora Jackson. I
assume you’re Ralph’s sister?”

“Afraid so.”

Cora’s smile froze. “I hope we can be
friends.”

The other girl smiled then, although her
smile looked anything but friendly. “I’m sure we will be. We don’t
have much choice, do we?”

“Aw, don’t mind Ivy.” Ralph grinned at Cora.
“She’s got her back up ‘cause there’s no one much around these
parts.”

“Oh, hush up, Ralph. You got no more
ambition than a hound dog layin’ by the fire on a rainy day.” Ivy
frowned. “You’d better go outside with Pa afore Aaron gets all the
work done.”

Eliza picked that moment to squeeze between
Cora and Ralph. She smiled at Ralph. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself, little one.” Ralph grinned
and backed away. “Guess I’ll be seeing you all later. Right now I
gotta go prove I got more ambition than a hound dog.”

“Girls, come and meet Mrs. Stark.” Mother
motioned them forward. “Mrs. Stark, these are my daughters. Vickie
is the oldest. Cora, and then Eliza.”

Cora barely managed a respectable greeting.
Never had she seen a woman so careworn and dirty as Mrs. Stark. Her
face, crisscrossed with wrinkles, was brown and leathery. How old
was the woman? When she smiled, her discolored teeth showed black
spots of decay. But her eyes were large and brilliantly blue. Long,
curling black lashes framed them, giving the only clue that Mrs.
Stark had once been a beautiful girl.

Cora’s gaze swept past the black hair
streaked with gray and met Ivy’s challenging stare. She looked
away. Did Ivy see the repulsion Cora felt at the sight of her
mother? No word was spoken, yet the hostility in the other girl’s
expression said everything. She loved her mother and would tolerate
no criticism.

Mrs. Stark crossed the room to the wood cook
stove. She looked at it then shook her head. “I ain’t never seen
such a contraption as that afore.”

“Do you mean the cook stove?” Mother sounded
unsure.

“Cook stove.” Mrs. Stark dragged out the
words. She walked back to the rocking chair. “Don’t know as I’d
want a thing like that takin’ up the whole side of my house. Been
cookin’ in the hearth all my life and ‘spect to keep right on
adoin’ it.”

She sat down and rubbed the smooth varnish
on the chair arm. “You’uns got some mighty purty things. Looky
there, Ivy, if that ain’t real china on that table.”

She pointed with a graceful, slender finger.
She clucked her tongue, shaking her head. “Purty as it is, won’t be
long till that’s nothin’ but chips and scratches. Tin’s what ya
need. Somethin’ practical that’ll last.”

Mother stood. “I’m sure you’re right. Well,
girls, we’d better have our breakfast. It won’t be any time before
we’ll have to start cooking again. Would you and Ivy care to join
us, Mrs. Stark?”

“Shucks. Jist call me Jennett. T’ain’t much
need to stand on ceremony around these parts.” She grinned at
Mother. “What’s your given name?”

“Opal.”

“Well, I thank ye, Opal.” Mrs. Stark’s
snaggle-toothed grin was wide and friendly. “You’uns go right on
ahead. Me and Ivy’s still full as a tick from our breakfast. We’ll
be fine right here.”

“All right, we will.” Mother motioned for
the girls to sit.

Mrs. Stark called out as they started
eating. “Don’t s-pose you all would mind if I take a smoke?”

Cora stared at her plate, afraid to look up
for fear her expression would give away her shock. From the corner
of her eye, she saw the woman lift her skirt and reach into a
pocket in her petticoat. She pulled out a clay pipe, followed by a
muslin bag of tobacco.

“I . . . I suppose not.” Mother never
stuttered. “Do…do you n-need anything?”

“Why, thanky kindly. I’ve got all I need
right here ’ceptin’ the light, but I can git that off’n your fire.”
Mrs. Stark filled her pipe, stood, and crossed the room to the cook
stove. She tore a large splinter from a piece of firewood and held
it out toward the stove.

Mother shoved her chair back and hurried
around the table to grab up the grate handle. “Here, let me help
you.”

She lifted a grate and stepped back while
Mrs. Stark stuck one end of the splinter into the firebox.

“Now ain’t that handy?” Mrs. Stark lit her
pipe, puffing on it until smoke came out around the stem. Seemingly
oblivious to their shocked stares, she settled back into the rocker
and sighed.

The creaking of a wagon and voices calling
out alerted them to another family arriving. Cora pushed her plate
back. She’d eaten all she could. She followed the others outside. A
man and woman climbed down from the seat. Children had already
started emptying from the wagon.

“Hello.” Mother held out her hand to the
woman. “I’m Opal Jackson. It’s so nice of you to come and
help.”

The woman gave Mother a quick hug. “You
don’t know how glad we are to have close neighbors. I’m Agnes
Newkirk and this is my brood.”

The younger children ran from the wagon
toward Lenny and Nicholas. Agnes called out the names as they
hurried past. “Gilbert, Margaret, Arthur, Gerard, and Joan.” She
yelled after the departing children. “Stay away from the workers.
Margaret, keep an eye on Joan.”

At the back of the wagon, a girl in her
teens climbed down and lifted her hands to her baby sister. The
little one fell into the girl’s arms. She brought her around the
wagon and handed her to her mother. Mrs. Newkirk smiled as she took
the baby. “This is Ellen, our youngest.”

“That was Rebekah. She’s gone back to help
our oldest daughter, Esther.” She indicated the two girls at the
back of the wagon struggling with a large box.

Cora only half listened. She couldn’t help
staring at Esther, a girl close to her age. If an angel came to
earth and took on human form, she’d look like Esther. Her hair, the
color of ripe wheat, shone in the sunlight that peeked through the
clouds. A gentle wave dipped across her forehead from a low side
part. Her hair fell loose and full around her face, while a braid
at the back of her neck held it in place.

“Here, let me get that box.” Cora shifted
her gaze to her older brother as he stepped to the wagon. He lifted
his hands toward Esther and smiled. “May I help you down?”

Esther’s eyes sparkled as she placed her
hands lightly on his shoulders. “Thank you.” Her voice had a soft
Southern accent like her mother’s.

Ben lifted her from the wagon and set her on
the soft dirt. Cora covered her smirk. Ben was smitten.

He took his time looking at Esther but
finally turned to the box and carried it around the wagon. “Mother,
where do you want this? It smells good.”

“Take it to the shelter. Vickie will show
you where to put it.” Mother turned back to Mrs. Newkirk. “How
thoughtful of you to bring something for the meal.”

Mrs. Newkirk laughed. “Anywhere I go with my
bunch, I always carry extra. I wouldn’t dream of expecting you to
provide for all of us.”

Mother looked toward the building site where
the men had started work. “I’d cook all day and all night, too, if
I had to for a real house.”

“I know what you mean, but about now you’re
probably running short on supplies.” Mrs. Newkirk looked at the
small shelter. “We didn’t even have that good a place when we first
came last year. We arrived in the spring and camped outdoors.”

Cora rounded the corner of the wagon with
Eliza and Ivy following. She smiled at Esther. “Hi, I’m Cora
Jackson.” She turned to indicate the two girls with her. “This is
my little sister, Eliza, and our neighbor, Ivy Stark.”

“I’m so glad to meet you.” Esther gave them
all a welcoming smile. “I’m Esther Newkirk and this is my little
sister, Rebekah. We’ve met Ivy but don’t get to visit often.” She
turned to Ivy. “It’s nice seeing you again.”

Ivy turned away.

“I hope you’ll like it here.” Esther looked
at Cora then turned toward the cedar trees and the creek in the
distance. “It’s beautiful country.”

“Beautiful!” Ivy swung around. “You can’t
live on beauty. You can’t eat it. You can’t wear it or keep warm by
it.” She looked back at the men and tossed her head. “First chance
I get, I’m gettin’ married, but it won’t be to just anybody.” Her
eyes shifted to Ben. “The man I marry will have money, and he’ll
take me away from this place. Then I won’t have to work like a
horse ‘til I’m old and ugly.”

“Life is hard here.” Esther’s rich southern
tones soothed. “But I remember what Paul said in the Bible. ‘I have
learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.’ That
always helps me.”

Ivy’s face twisted, and she stomped away.
Cora’s heart pounded from Ivy’s outburst. She understood Ivy all
too well. She, too, hated this wilderness and resented being forced
to move away from her luxurious home in the city. Still, shame
crept in for her attitude. She couldn’t meet Esther’s eyes.

What sort of girl was Esther? She was so
beautiful, yet there seemed to be more to her beauty than physical.
Something pure and good deep inside shone through her eyes and
smile, lighting her entire face. Ivy’s dark, shiny hair and smooth
ivory skin gave her equal, if not greater beauty. Yet her large,
blue eyes held resentment while her lips twisted with rudeness,
taking so much from her appearance so that it faded in comparison
to Esther’s. Something about Esther drew Cora in a way she didn’t
understand.

Chapter 7

“G
irls, we have work to do.”

Cora turned from the others to follow her
mother and Mrs. Newkirk to the shelter. Eliza and Rebekah Newkirk
chatted as if they’d known each other all their lives. Cora glanced
over her shoulder. Esther Newkirk walked a step behind her. Ivy
Stark followed at a slower pace than the rest. Cora sighed. So this
was her choice for friendship. Two girls as different as dark and
light even in appearance. Although both were beautiful, Ivy held
herself aloof, keeping everyone at a distance. Esther’s sweetness
was an invitation to friendship, yet left Cora with an unsettled
feeling, as if something hovered just out of her reach. Would
either girl become her friend?

In the shelter, Vickie and Mrs. Stark had
already started bread and some pies. Mother pointed to a bin of
potatoes. “Cora, you’re good at peeling potatoes. Why don’t you do
that?”

“I’ll help you.” Esther stepped forward.

Cora smiled. “Thank you.”

The girls sat in the corner where the
potatoes were stored. They set the large pot Mother gave them on
the dirt floor. Cora picked up a potato and sliced the skin from
one side. Esther did the same. Cora took a breath. What could she
say to this girl who seemed so perfect? She peeled two
potatoes.

“Where’d you move from?” Esther broke their
silence.

Cora lifted her head and smiled. “St.
Louis.”

Esther’s clear blue eyes sparkled. “Oh, that
is still in Missouri, isn’t it? Is it a big city?”

“Bigger than here.” As soon as the words
escaped, Cora giggled. “But of course, anywhere is bigger than
here, isn’t it?”

Esther laughed. “Yes, I believe so. Did you
have many friends in St. Louis?”

“George is my best friend. I’ve known him
since I was five. I did have a few other friends, but spent most of
my time with George. Our houses were next door.”

“Oh my.” Esther shook her head. “We lived on
a farm in Virginia, and we’ve been here over a year so I have a
hard time imagining two houses sitting very close. I’ve been to
Richmond, of course, so I know what you are talking about. I’ve
gotten used to the way it is here now.”

Cora smiled and nodded. She’d never get used
to this place, and she’d never be content to stay here. George had
promised to come at Christmas, and she could scarcely wait. He
would take her away from dirt floors and crowded lean-tos that
wouldn’t even make a good woodshed. What kind of house were the men
building? It couldn’t be as wonderful as the house they’d left in
St. Louis.

By the time they filled the pot with chopped
potatoes, the newness and tension of her first meeting with Esther
had eased. Eliza and Rebekah’s giggles and non-stop chatter kept
everyone entertained. Eliza rubbed at her eyes and held at arm’s
length an onion she’d been chopping. “Oh, this is terrible! I’m
crying.”

“Me too.” Rebekah wiped the tears on her
cheeks.

Mrs. Newkirk laughed. “Girls, it isn’t that
bad, is it?”

“Yes!” They cried out at the same time and
then dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“I suppose it’s too late now.” Mrs. Newkirk
smiled at them. “You probably couldn’t have done it, anyway.”

“Done what?” Rebekah looked at her
mother.

“Well, my mother used to say an onion won’t
make you cry if you keep your mouth closed tight while you cut
it.”

“Oh, no! Why didn’t you tell us that
before?” Rebekah wiped her eyes.

Esther laughed. “Oh, Rebekah, you know you
couldn’t have done it.”

“Yes, we could.” Rebekah swung to Eliza.
“Couldn’t we, Eliza?”

Eliza clamped her lips shut and nodded,
setting her braids swaying.

Rebekah giggled. “I can do that too. You all
just watch me.”

Ivy stirred a pot of pudding at the cook
stove. She scowled at the younger girls, stuck her nose in the air,
and turned her back toward them.

Mother took the large pot of potatoes when
Esther sliced the last potato in it. “You girls have been a big
help. Would you mind going outside to check on the younger
children? And see if you can get a count of how many we’ll be
feeding.”