The Promise of Morning (36 page)

She hugged Molly. “See you Sunday.”

Hurrying to the phaeton, she climbed inside.

When Mr. Beldon picked up the reins, Molly called, “Please give my best to your wife.”

“Indeed I will.” His voice was cool as buttermilk. He tipped his hat and urged the horse into a trot down Adams Street.

As soon as they were under way, Ellie leaned forward. “You said you had information for me about Texas. Where is it?”

“In a moment. Let’s just enjoy the ride.” He looked down at the daisy chain in Maria’s lap. “You like flowers, young lady?”

She nodded, swinging her feet against the footrest.

“I’ll show you some.”

Once past the church, he abruptly turned the phaeton east into a section of prairie grass. Faint wheel tracks leading toward a stand of trees showed in the waist-high bluestem.

Alarmed, Ellie looked at him. “Where are we going? It’s getting late—my family’s expecting us.”

“This will only take a few minutes.” He patted the top of Maria’s bonneted head. “There are some wildflowers out here your daughter will enjoy.”

Tall grass whispered against the floor of the carriage. The soft soil muffled the sound of the horse’s hooves. Ellie scanned the area ahead, seeking the promised flowers, but it wasn’t possible to see anything but undulating prairie rolling toward the horizon.

Mr. Beldon smiled at her. “Don’t look so worried. You’ll be glad we stopped.”

Ellie felt a vague sense of unease. Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed that the main road had disappeared behind a curtain of grass. She leaned forward again, about to say something, when they crested a rise. Her voice caught in her throat. A riot of blossoms adorned the meadow in front of them. Orange milkweed, prairie blazing star, blue asters, fireweed, and crowding the empty spaces, golden sunflowers.

He pointed the buggy whip with a flourish. “Wasn’t this worth a detour?”

She clasped her hands, entranced at the sight. “Yes! It’s beautiful.”

Maria bounced to her feet. Her daisy chain fell to the floor, forgotten. “Can I pick some?”

“Of course. That’s why I brought you here.” Mr. Beldon smiled indulgently.

“Stay where I can see you,” Ellie said. “And just pick a few. We must be getting home.”

The carriage jiggled as Maria jumped down and ran toward the meadow. Mr. Beldon watched her go, then draped an arm over the back of the seat.

“You’re too far away.” His voice sounded soft, coaxing.

Ellie felt a flush rise to her face. His muscular body, which seemed so appealing at a distance, now threatened.

He dropped his fingers lightly onto her shoulder, tracing a small circle. “You’re a beautiful woman.” His voice thickened. Fingers caressed the side of her neck, then stroked her hair. “I’ve wanted you since the first day we met. I can’t sleep for thinking about you.” He slipped his hand down her back and urged her toward him.

Heart pounding in her throat, Ellie rose and grabbed the side of the carriage. “Mr. Beldon. Leave me alone!” She put a foot on the step, ready to run to Maria.

One hand circled her wrist, holding her in place. “Don’t be afraid. No one will see us.”

She tugged, trying to free herself. “No. Please.”

His grip tightened, then he pressed his other hand against her waist. “Mrs. Craig,” he said in a sibilant whisper. “Eleanor. Do sit down.” He licked his lips, leaving a wet shine on their fleshy surface. “I apologize. I’ve frightened you.”

Breathing heavily, he slid his hand up her leg. She twitched away from his fingers. The clove-scented pomade on his hair sent a wave of nausea through her.

“You must see we’re meant for each other.” His words tumbled out. “Come away with me. We can go to Texas, to your father’s land. Together we’ll find your family.”

Horrified, Ellie stared at his sweaty face, then shot a glance at her daughter picking flowers. How far were they from the road? Could they run? She dismissed the idea, knowing the thick grass would make running impossible.

Ellie swallowed to moisten her dry throat. “Drive us to the farm, please. I . . . I’ll think about what you’ve said.” Without waiting for his response, she pulled her hand free and slid from his grasp. “Maria.” Her voice cracked. She called again, trying to conceal rising hysteria. “Maria! We’re leaving now.” She prayed it was true.

She felt Mr. Beldon’s eyes boring into her back and turned to see him watching her with razorlike intensity.

He raised an eyebrow. “You realize, Mrs. Craig, if you speak of this, the town gossips won’t believe a word you say.”

Ellie cringed at the truth of his words. Maria ran to the carriage, pink-cheeked from the sun and carrying an armful of flowers. Settling into the space between them, she held the bouquet under Ellie’s nose.

“I’ll give these to Uncle Arthur to make him feel better.”

“Well, aren’t you a thoughtful child.” Mr. Beldon flicked the reins over his horse’s back and set the phaeton moving toward the road.

A musty smell, like that of a locked room, arose from the sunflowers. Ellie turned her head away and sat with her arms wrapped around her waist, trying to stop the trembling that rippled over her body. The sensation of Beldon’s hands on her remained, like palpable stains. How could she have been so foolish?

Although the phaeton clipped along the road at a good pace, the minutes seemed to crawl until they reached the farm. Mr. Beldon reined his horse to a stop with a flourish. Before he could get out to help her down, Ellie bolted from the carriage and stood below the step, cradling her sewing basket and the two towel-wrapped loaves of bread. She kept her head down, avoiding his eyes. Behind her, she heard the back door open.

Maria’s face brightened. “Papa!”

28

Matthew stood at the top of the steps staring between his wife’s flushed face and Marcus Beldon’s smug expression. A sick feeling gripped his stomach. In the hours since his arrival home, he’d heard from the twins how Beldon had insinuated himself into Ellie’s life, offering to take her to Molly’s. No one knew better than himself how naïve his wife could be.

An expression of guilt painted itself over Ellie’s face.

She hesitated, then followed Maria up the stairs and hugged him. “Thank goodness you’re back.”

His arms encircled her, feeling her softness under his fingers. He held her lightly, resting his cheek against the top of her sunbonnet. So often he had dreamed of her during the uncomfortable nights on the circuit and now here she was in his arms. A pang of desire shot through him.

He lifted his head in time to see Beldon turn his carriage and roll out of the farmyard. Desire curdled into doubt. “I hear you’ve been spending a great deal of time with him.”

Ellie didn’t need to ask who he meant. She stared at the ground.

Matthew lifted her chin with his thumb and stared into her eyes. “Of all people, why Beldon?”

Her cheeks flamed. “He offered to take me to Molly’s, so I said yes. At the time I didn’t see the harm.” She drew a shaky breath, then blurted, “He said he would help me find my family in Texas.”

He dropped his hand, incredulous, “And you believed him? Don’t you know—”

“I do now. He’s evil, Matt.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “I should have listened to you.”

He remembered all the times he’d decided against burdening her with the man’s actions. Then he recalled that when he did tell her Beldon was spreading rumors about them, she’d argued in Beldon’s favor.

Stepping away, he narrowed his eyes and surveyed Ellie. “What’s changed your mind now?”

“Things he . . . said.” She mumbled her reply and pushed past him into the house, colliding with Graciana, who stood just inside the doorway.

Ellie took a step backward. She put her hands on the child’s shoulders. “Oh dear, did I hurt you? I didn’t see you standing there.”

Graciana sidled next to Matthew and slid her hand into his. “No ma’am,” she said. “I’m not hurt.” She clutched her rag doll with her free hand.

“This is Graciana Largo,” Matthew said, answering the question in Ellie’s eyes. “She will be staying with us until—” He broke off. “We have much to discuss. Let’s wait for later.”

Clearly tired of being ignored, Maria stepped in front of Graciana and held out her bouquet. “I picked these for my Uncle Arthur. Do you want to come with me when I give them to him?”

“No, thank you. I want to stay with Uncle Matthew.”

“All right.” Maria skipped toward the parlor, calling Arthur’s name.

During supper, Matthew surreptitiously watched Ellie. She moved about the kitchen more than necessary, jumping up to bring one thing or another to the table. Graciana had insisted on sitting next to him. It pleased him to note that Ellie seemed to have accepted the girl’s presence without objection. It wasn’t unusual for families to take in orphaned children, but he’d worried that Ellie was still too obsessed with losing Julia to want another child in the house.

Ellie joined Maria and the boys in asking questions about his journey, but only half listened to his answers. Not until he told the story of going to Kentucky to visit his father did he have her full attention.

“You took a steamboat to Marysville? You were needed here. You would’ve been back a week sooner. And I wouldn’t have—” She stopped in midsentence.

“It had to be the Lord’s leading. So much happened as a result.” He opened his mouth to tell her about his father, and then what occurred on the dock at Oakport, but she didn’t give him the opportunity.

“I believe the Lord wanted you to take care of your family, and
you
decided to go skylarking.” She pushed back her chair and gathered soiled plates. “You can’t imagine how hard it’s been . . .” Ellie’s voice choked. “The children, Uncle Arthur, the farm—” She clunked the plates into the basin and turned her back on him.

Graciana shrank against his side and hugged her doll. Matthew glanced at her and then at the stunned faces of his children. He and Ellie never quarreled in front of them.

He’d pictured an enthusiastic homecoming. Instead, he’d arrived to find Ellie gone off somewhere with Marcus Beldon, Arthur sitting on the porch with a broken leg, and the boys filled with complaints about their mother’s behavior.

He walked to the worktable. “I wrote you a letter explaining everything before I left on the steamboat. It should have arrived by now.”

“Well, it didn’t.” She wouldn’t look at him.

Arthur picked up his crutches. “Believe I’ll go sit on the porch and watch the storm come in. The cool air will feel good.”

Glancing at their parents, the children slipped upstairs.

Maria stopped halfway up the steps and ran back to hug Matthew. “I’m glad you’re home, Papa.”

“Me too.” He kissed her blonde head. “Graciana will share your room. I put her things in there when I got home.” He held his hand toward the dark-haired child. “You go with Maria. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

She nodded and followed Maria, glancing back once as if to make certain he was still there.

Wind whipped the curtains at the window, pushing the scent of rain into the room. Ellie kept her eyes focused on the stack of dirty dishes in the soapy water.

Matthew spoke to the back of her head. “I’m going to sit with Arthur for a bit. You go on up when you’re ready.”

She flashed a teary, blue-eyed look at him. “I’m glad you’re home too.”

He barely heard her whisper over the rattle of cutlery in the tin basin. He squeezed her shoulder, then walked out onto the porch. Light from the kitchen lamp shimmered on raindrops falling past the roof. Matthew stood at the top of the steps and gazed into the gray dusk, hearing water splash onto the dry ground of his farmyard.

Arthur spoke behind him. “Just in time.”

“The rain?”

“That too.”

Matthew turned toward Arthur, lowering his voice so it wouldn’t carry through the open window. “Do you think Beldon’s offers to drive Ellie to town were innocent?”

“I wouldn’t have allowed it otherwise.” Arthur made a derisive sound in his throat. “Course, I thought that Forsythe fellow’s actions were innocent too. Guess you’d better not depend on me for good judgment.”

Matthew pinched his lip. “I saw Ruby.”

Arthur’s jaw dropped. “Where is she? Is she well?”

“She seemed well enough—a little thin, maybe.”

The older man clamped a hand over Matthew’s knee. “Tell me all about it.” In the dim light, his eyes looked overly bright.

“The Shakespeare troupe was in New Camden. Ruby was with them.”

“How’d you find that out?”

“I went to the play.”

In spite of the seriousness of their conversation, Arthur chuckled. “And you weren’t struck dead, were you?”

Matthew shook his head. “I deserved that, but no, the Lord let me live through it.” He smiled.

“Go on,” Arthur said. “Ruby was there?”

“Yes, I talked to her afterward.” His eyes held Arthur’s. “She wants to come home, I’m sure of it, but she’s afraid you wouldn’t have her.”

“She sent me divorce papers. She don’t want to come back.”

“Ruby’s not happy, anyone could see that. She made a dreadful mistake, and now she’s reaping what she sowed.”

Arthur gazed out at the rain, silent. After a few moments, he cleared his throat. “I miss her. Reckon if she came back, I’d let her stay.”