Hearts Awakening (37 page)

As Ethan continued to rattle on and on with his tale, Daniel squirmed his way between Ellie and Ethan, and Jackson hugged his family close.

His heart swelled. His family. They truly were his family. Daniel. Ethan. And Ellie. They were his family, and they were all that mattered, truly mattered to him in this world—a realization that was as great a miracle to him at this moment as rediscovering the faith he had abandoned for far too long.

As overjoyed as he was, however, he was still fearful that the rogue wolf might still be close by. He shifted Ethan in his arms and lifted Daniel up with his other arm. Ellie reached down and picked up his rifle, which was still loaded and ready to fire, if necessary.

With his boys’ faces snuggled against him for protection from the rain, he headed for home. His heart and soul were so overjoyed at finding his boys safe and at hearing Ethan talk to him again, he almost felt as if he were walking through the woods on a warm summer day instead of in a cold, drenching rain.

Concerned about Ellie, he glanced over at her, but she was keeping up with him as if she were dressed in finery and heading into church for services instead of marching through the woods in a downpour.

Her devotion to his sons today and her courage was remarkable, if not extraordinary. She had saved both Daniel and Ethan from being attacked by the wolf by having the presence of mind to get them up into a tree. More impressively, she had also conquered her desperate fear of storms to protect them, and he would never, ever forget what she had done for them or for him.

When he finally sighted the house, he nudged his sons with his shoulders as he increased his pace. “Daniel? Ethan? There’s our house. We’re almost home.”

“H-hot c-cider f-for everyone,” Ellie stammered.

Both boys, however, continued to shield themselves against him. When he looked at her face again, he could see her teeth were chattering, and she was uncommonly pale. Yet even with the weight of the rifle she was carrying for him, added to the drag of her sodden gown, she still managed to match his faster pace. “The cider’s a good idea, but not until we all get into some warm, dry clothes,” he suggested as they finally neared the porch. “I’ll take care of the boys and get the fire started in the cookstove. You need to get out of that wet gown before it drags you down to the ground.”

With rain rushing down her face, she grinned. “If th-that happens, I w-won’t have the strength to g-get up, b-but if y-you expect an argument from m-me about h-heating up the c-cider, y-you won’t g-get one. I’ll m-meet you all in the k-kitchen,” she said and hurried up the porch steps when he urged her to go ahead of them.

Later that afternoon, after filling the boys with hot cider and some hot soup for dinner and tucking them in for a much-needed nap, Jackson paused at the bottom of the staircase. Ellie was sitting in front of the fireplace in the great room not ten feet away while the rain continued to lash at the windows. She was so thoroughly engrossed in her task, he was reluctant to interrupt her.

Seated close to the fire, she had unpinned her hair and with long, deliberate strokes of her brush, she was attempting to dry it. The fire cast a gentle glow to her face and form, yet her spirit and faith gave her an inner glow that made his heart lurch in his chest for the second time that day.

He would not be taking a very big leap at all if he let himself fall in love with this woman, and he was surprised at how hard it was at this moment to recall even one of Dorothea’s features. The memory of the love they had once shared was actually beginning to fade now, and only a foolish man would want to keep it alive when Ellie was right here.

She paused abruptly, as if sensing his presence, and looked up. “Oh! I . . . I didn’t expect you’d be down so quickly,” she said. After hurriedly setting aside her brush, she pulled her hair back behind her neck and tied it with a ribbon that was as pink as her cheeks had gotten. “Please. Come sit. The fire feels wonderful. I can do this later.”

“No, I can come back, after you’ve finished,” he offered, albeit weakly.

“This is your fireplace,” she said as she got to her feet. “I know I have a stove in my room, but my hair will dry much faster by the fireplace. I was hoping I’d be finished by the time you’d tucked in the boys.”

“Please don’t stop on my account,” he suggested as he walked toward her.

Her blush deepened. “I can wait a bit. How are they?”

He chuckled and pulled a chair closer to sit down beside her. “Warm and dry, with their bellies full, and fast asleep, which is what I might say about Poor Thing and her puppies, as well.”

She smiled, looked at the rain-splattered windows, and frowned. “The rain hasn’t ended yet. I’m afraid the boys and I would still be out huddling under that tree if you hadn’t come for us.”

His eyes widened. “Did you really think I’d leave you and the boys out in a storm? And with a wolf about?”

“No, but I wasn’t certain when you got home or if you knew about the wolf or how long it would take you to find us.”

“I came home as soon as I spotted the wolf’s tracks. I was hoping the threat of the storm might have kept you all inside, but when I saw your note, I realized you were all in far greater danger, which is why I brought my rifle. I’m sorry. If I had taken you more seriously before when you had that encounter with an animal on the roadway—”

“That’s not important now. We’re safe and unharmed,” she argued. “What are you going to do about the wolf?”

“We’re leaving in the morning for the city, but I’ll stop and make sure the Grants know about it. Michael may even spot the wolf and get rid of it before we get back.”

She shivered and wrapped her hands at her waist. “I hope so, although I suspect we owe the wolf, as well as the storm, a bit of gratitude.”

He cocked his head. “Gratitude?”

“Ethan’s talking again, isn’t he?”

He chuckled. “Nonstop, I’m afraid, although I don’t see how that miracle is connected to either the wolf or the storm.”

She moistened her lips and smiled but held silent.

He waved his hand to urge her to speak. “If you see a connection, please tell me. I’m more than curious to know what you’re thinking.”

She nodded. “I don’t know that I had much opportunity to think of it until just now, when I was brushing my hair and let my thoughts wander. Do you remember when Daniel told us that Ethan spoke to him?”

“Of course.”

“Do you remember that Daniel said Ethan talked to him but wouldn’t talk to you because he was angry with you?”

“Yes, but—”

“If fear was at the root of his anger, then he must have been terribly afraid of something that made him so angry he wouldn’t talk to you. What’s the first thing Ethan said to you today? Do you remember?”

He furrowed his brow. “He called me Pappy, several times I think, but I was so excited to hear his voice, I’m afraid most of the rest is a bit blurred.”

“He said, ‘You saved us.’ He was overjoyed that you saved us, which made me wonder if he was afraid you wouldn’t or couldn’t save us because he thought you hadn’t saved his mama from dying or from leaving,” she whispered.

His heart pounded against the wall of his chest. “You think that’s what he was afraid of for all these months? That I wouldn’t be there for him because I hadn’t been there for his mother?”

“I don’t know. Ethan’s so young, I’m not even certain Ethan realizes it himself, but—”

“But it makes sense.” Jackson leaned back in his chair. “I’ve obviously never told the boys about the difficulties between myself and their mother, although I’m certain they knew all wasn’t right. But I never told them exactly that Rebecca died by drowning, either. I thought they were too young, and I didn’t want them to develop a fear of the river.”

As his mind traveled back over the past few months, he realized he had been so self-absorbed with his own grief and disappointments, he had not really been aware of how deeply his sons were suffering, too. “Do you remember when Daniel told us that Ethan sat by the kitchen window every day because he was waiting for his mother to come back, when we both thought he was waiting for me to return from working in the orchards?”

“I do. Why?”

He tried to sort through his thoughts by saying them out loud. “I was just thinking . . . maybe Ethan was sitting by the window waiting for me, after all, because he was afraid I wouldn’t come if he needed me. He just didn’t know it or didn’t want Daniel to know how frightened he was that I wouldn’t be there for them.” He gazed at Ellie. “I don’t know that I would have made that connection—or any at all—without you.”

The color in her cheeks grew more pronounced. “You probably would have, eventually. I’m just glad I could help. You might want to think about something else, too.”

At this point, he was so grateful to her he would be tempted to do anything to please her. “Such as . . . ?”

“Such as thinking about keeping Griddle and Cakes, at least for a little while. Separating those puppies from their mother might remind the boys about how they were separated from Rebecca.”

He straightened his back and leaned forward. “Keep the puppies? Both of them? And Poor Thing, too?”

She chuckled. “It was just a thought.”

He scowled. “Maybe it was, but I’d rather think about what you’re making for supper tonight.”

“Supper? Or dessert?” she teased.

“Can we have griddle cakes for dessert?”

He turned, saw Ethan racing toward him, and held out his arms. “Right here, little one. Your pappy needs a hug,” he said, though a little privacy now and then, so he could have time alone with Ellie, would not be a bad idea, either.

Thirty-Seven

Having any expectation of total privacy when there were two adults and two rambunctious boys sharing a one-room house was a bit like expecting a moth that was drawn too close to a burning flame to survive.

Ellie folded the wood-framed partition that separated her bunk from Jackson and the boys in the renovated Sunday house and slid it underneath the narrow bed. Now that all of Rebecca’s things had been removed, the walls were bare but wore a fresh coat of whitewash. A pair of new rocking chairs sat side by side in front of the fireplace, facing the mantel, where a Bible rested, waiting to be read and shared, just like at home.

The embers of her attraction to Jackson had been fanned into flames by the events surrounding that fateful storm, but the flames had grown even hotter these past two days. With the two boys literally underfoot, however, there was no way she could tell if Jackson was developing feelings for her, too, or if she was completely misreading him.

To distract her from the disturbing thought that her feelings for him could never be returned, especially with his heart still in Dorothea’s hands, she glanced over at the boys. They were sitting on Ethan’s bunk on the other side of the room, talking and playing with their Jacob’s Ladder, and she had to smile to herself.

Once Ethan had started talking again, he’d been a veritable chatterbox. In all truth, the only time the child was quiet now was when he was asleep! Still, she did not think she would ever tire of hearing him, or his brother, call her by her new title: Mama Ellie.

To preoccupy herself while they waited for Jackson to return from a private visit with Madeline French, she checked the ashes in the fireplace again and spread them around with a poker to make sure there were no burning embers left. Satisfied, she cleaned them out one last time. She was more than satisfied, if not unduly proud of Jackson for reaching out to the woman who had also been deeply hurt by the scandal, even though her pain was hidden from the rest of the world, while his was very public.

She set the bucket of cold ashes by the front door and looked around the room to see if there was anything else she could do to speed their departure. After deciding to take one last look inside the trunk they were taking home with them, she opened the lid.

In a flash, Daniel and Ethan were right there beside her.

“Can we have some more gumdrops?” Ethan asked.

“
May
we have some?” Daniel asked, correcting his brother’s grammar rather proudly.