Wings of a Dove (28 page)

    Allie drew back at last, noting that Delaney's expression was suddenly sober. Hers was sober as well.

    ''I'll never doubt you again, Delaney."

    "Never?" Delaney remained surprisingly serious. "Never is a long time, Allie."

    "You'll always be my friend."

    An unreadable expression passed across Delaney's face. Setting Allie lightly on her feet, he took her hand and started toward the door. It was Allie who broke the silence between them as she smiled up into his face.

    "I'm glad you came home early tonight. Mother Case made something special for tonight. I was going to save you some anyway, but"

    "You were angry with me, but you were going to save me something special?"

    "I wasn't really angry with you, Delaney. I was disappointed, and it hurt really bad, even to look at you."

    As Allie walked into the yard with Delaney, she heard the rattle of an approaching wagon. She turned toward the sound, her smile vanishing as she met Sarah's frozen stare. Stepping to one side to allow the wagon to draw up in front of the house, Allie nodded in response to Bobbie Clark's greeting and heard Delaney offer a short hello as well.

    "You're home early tonight, Delaney." Sarah approached them as soon as Bobbie had lifted her to the ground. "That's nice. Bobbie has agreed to stay for dinner. He"

    Sarah halted abruptly, her beautiful face suddenly whitening. Following her stare, Allie turned toward Delaney. She saw a fierce hatred in his eyes, the same hatred that held Sarah suddenly immobile.

    "Delaney?"

    His eyes snapped toward Allie as she spoke his name, and she released a tense breath as the ferocity there slipped away. Relieved, she felt Delaney's arm curl around her shoulder.

    "I'll see you later, Allie. I'm going to rub Jack down."

    Allie excused herself immediately after Delaney strode back to the barn. Her shoulder still warm from Delaney's touch, she walked into the kitchen and, with a steady hand, stirred the pot simmering on the stove. All was right in the world again, and it was right because of Delaney. When had it ever been different?

    Witness to all that had taken place, Margaret remained seated in the porch chair she had occupied for a greater part of the afternoon.

    Delaney had called Allie to the barn with an apparent subterfuge. She had seen them both emerge a short time later, their differences obviously settled. Anger had left Delaney's eyes, and joy had returned to Allie's sweet, immature face. It had occurred to her then that there was no one who could bring Allie more happiness than Delaney. And no one who could bring her more pain.

    It had been inopportune for Sarah and Bobbie to return at that moment, but it had brought only too clearly into focus the realization that the same could be said for her own beautiful daughter.

    But Sarah was now slipping her arm under Bobbie Clark's and drawing him away, a smile on her lips. With a mother's insight, she knew Sarah would not take Delaney's rejection lightly. Nor would she accept it.

    Suddenly tired, very tired, Margaret drew herself to her feet. Swaying weakly, she grasped the arm of the chair for support. She loved them all Sarah, James, Allie, Delaney, and dear Jacob but she feared she would not be present much longer to soothe ragged feelings and act as a buffer between those in her dear family who would cause each other pain.

    Margaret raised her eyes to a vast expanse of blue sky unmarred by a single cloud. Afternoon was rapidly waning, but the color was vibrant so clear. She was touched by the thought that if she strained, she might be able to see directly into the eye of God. If she could, she would tell him she knew her time was limited, but she needed a few more years. Just a few. She would tell him she feared for the future happiness of the children he had placed in her care. She would tell him that for a little while longer, she was needed here.

1862

AWAKENING

Chapter Nine

    Mama had been wrong.

    A wry smile flicked across Allie's lips as she tied the apron around her narrow waist. Contrary to Mama's predictions, the passage of years and the onslaught of maturity had added little beauty to the face staring back at her from the mirror. Her skin was still milky white, the only spots of color the pale pink strip across her nose and under her eyes that had come from being outdoors without her hat the previous day. Her face was still too small, and her eyes too large and too dark appeared darker still in comparison with the silver-blond of her hair and her general lack of color. She was still thin, painfully so. Maturity had done little more than add a few inches in height and raise small mounds on her chest that Sarah had scathingly declared were not even worthy of the word "breasts."

    Allie tucked a flyaway wisp of hair back into the pale coil she had wound so carefully into a bun only minutes before. The passage of time had also failed to improve the manageability of the colorless tresses that the frightened little orphan had despaired of six years before as she had made the long  journey west. The young woman of sixteen still could not depend on the wayward strands to remain in place, even when tightly confined.

    In retrospect, it amused her to think how patiently she had waited for the fulfillment of Mama's prophecy that she would one day be beautiful. An unconscious glance toward Sarah, asleep in the bed behind her, confirmed that it was Sarah who had grown more beautiful as the years passed, an improvement on physical perfection she had not thought possible. Her dark hair had grown thicker, more lustrous; her face, already faultless in every respect, had grown even lovelier. Time had sculpted her cheekbones almost exotically and added a flirtatious brightness to eyes already a glowing green. Stately. She was amused at her own modest description of Sarah's impressive womanly proportions, her full breasts, enticingly small waist, and a rear end that seemed to draw the attention of every male in sight. Allie had waited breathlessly for the time when she would begin to flower in just such a way.

    Her silent amusement was touched with irony. She had flowered, but she had also come to terms with the realization that the mature blossom would never meet her youthful hopes. She was as she had always been plain. She would never be any different.

    Allie's wry smile flickered once more. Mama, unlike the father you said I resembled, and unlike you, I will never be beautiful.

    Turning away from the mirror, Allie walked out of the bedroom. She shut the door quietly so as not to disturb Sarah, knowing there would be no end of complaint if she awoke the uncrowned princess of the family one minute before she was ready to be awakened.

    Suddenly annoyed with herself, Allie slowly descended the stairs. She was being unfair to Sarah, and she disliked herself for it. The morning sky had not yet been touched by the new day's sun, and Sarah was not really late in arising, but she suspected today would probably be no different from any other day, with Allie getting up early and Sarah waiting until the last minute to arise, and usually arriving in the kitchen with one excuse or another when most of the work for breakfast was done.

    Nearing the bottom of the staircase, Allie glanced toward the   rear of the house and the room that had been added there to save Delaney from the freezing winter cold of the barn. She paused, hearing no sound coming from that direction. She supposed that meant Delaney had worked so late at the newspaper that he had stayed in town instead of coming home for a few short hours before returning again. She also knew that meant he would make up the lost time later in the day.

    Allie worried about Delaney. He worked too hard. She had seen less and less of him as he had become more involved in his work at the newspaper, and she missed him terribly. She tried to tell herself that she should be pleased that Delaney's dreams were beginning to be realized, but she was continually at odds with her failure in that regard.

    More upset by that failure than she cared to acknowledge, Allie walked toward the kitchen. The silence of the deserted room brought another realization to her mind. Ashamed of her selfish absorption in her own problems, Allie realized Mother Case was ill again. Her breathlessness had grown considerably more frightening over the past few years. Dr. Peters’ most recent prescription seemed of little help in combating the affliction, which seemed to be at its worst during the late-night hours. She supposed Mother Case had suffered another severe attack during the night past, because nothing short of illness would have kept her from being the first into the kitchen in the morning.

    Allie glanced up toward the second floor. No matter her concern, she would have to wait until someone came down before she could find out Mother Case's condition this morning. She could not take the chance of awakening either Mother or Papa Case after a difficult night.

    A short time later the aroma of boiling coffee permeated the air, and Allie was busily kneading the dough for her special biscuits, the ones Mother Case enjoyed so much. She had already sliced the ham she had brought in from the smokehouse, and the eggs she had gathered yesterday were waiting for the sound of a step on the staircase before meeting the pan.

    Brushing back a persistent wisp of hair with the back of her hand, Allie began rolling the dough. She hoped Mother Case was resting well now, and she hoped the aromas wafting upstairs from the kitchen would lift her spirits when she awakened. There   was so little she could do for Mother Case, so very little in comparison with the generosity that had changed her life.

    Everything she now had she owed to Mother Case and Delaney, and Allie had never lost sight of that. If it had not been for Mother Case, she might have been separated from Delaney all those years ago. She knew she would not have been able to bear being separated from the hard, bitter boy with no faith at all who had rescued her from total despair and given her back the faith her mother had bequeathed to her with all her love.

    That hard, bitter boy of fifteen was now a man, and if she had trouble understanding his silences and his intensity of late, she still loved him. The statement made to him years before was burned into her heart. He would always be her friend.

    "Allie."

    Startled from her reverie by the unexpected voice, Allie turned toward James as he stepped into the kitchen.

    "I didn't hear you come down, James. I" Seeing James's strained expression, she took a short, nervous breath. "What's wrong, James?"

    "I didn't mean to frighten you, Allie." James closed his hand reassuringly on her shoulder. His eyes flickered momentarily with an emotion other than concern as they studied her a moment longer. "Mama's not at all well this morning. Pa and I were up most of the night."

    "You should have awakened me, James! I could've helped!"

    "No, Allie, you couldn't have done anything more than we did for her, which was nothing at all except to try to make her more comfortable." James gave a short laugh, his face lined with exhaustion. "But I think she did a better job of comforting us than we did her."

    The heat of tears heavy in her eyes, Allie saw James's expression twitch revealingly before he stepped closer and drew her against his chest. His voice was a hoarse whisper.

    "Dr. Peters said he'd stop by today, Allie. Pa thinks if the doctor changes Mama's medicine, she might get some relief, but I don't know if any medicine will be of real help."

    Realizing James held her as much for his own comfort as for her own, Allie wrapped her arms around him and returned his embrace. James's arms tightened. His hands caressed her back as he pulled her closer.

    "Allie, we'd all be lost without you, especially me. Mama's right. You're the best thing that ever happened to this family. If she wasn't so sick right now, I'd"

    Halting in midsentence, James drew back. Flushed beneath his sun-reddened skin, he swallowed with obvious difficulty, and Allie noticed that his hand trembled as he raised it to her cheek.

    "Mama's awake. Pa says you can bring up her breakfast, if you've no objection."

    James's pain touched Allie deeply. He had tried to make her feel like a member of the family, and he was like a brother to her. She responded with a nod.

    "Dr. Peters should be here in a few hours." James hesitated a moment, adding in a lower voice, "Mama says she isn't going to leave us yet, Allie."

    Tears were again hot and heavy in Allie's eyes. She glanced away, but James drew her close once more.

    "Don't worry, Allie. Mama always keeps her word."

    James's voice broke, and he held her for only a few moments longer before releasing her and leaving the kitchen without another word. Allie turned back to the chore before her.

    Delaney eyed with a frown the latest bulletin on the war to come across his desk at the
Cass County News
. So far, the county had remained relatively untouched by the harsh realities of the war between the states, except for the heated debates that sometimes erupted on the street. Earlier in the year the state legislature had passed resolutions that proclaimed the supremacy of the Union, and in a special session a few months later, the raising of ten regiments had been authorized.

    Delaney's position on the
News
was now beginning to bring the realities of the war home to him in a way he had not fully expected. Frowning, he ran his eyes down the list of local men whose lives had most recently been sacrificed to principle.
Men
Delaney’s low snort expressed his skepticism about that word. Many of them had been little more than boys.