Chapter 11
When they went into the house, the first thing Curtis heard was Ellie saying, “...not hurt.”
At first sight of her alone in the woods with night falling, all he wanted to do was protect her. That disarming streak of white in her hair, like a beacon, made her unlike any other girl he'd ever seen. Most women he’d known came across as unwilling or unable to defend themselves, but the spunky stance she’d taken to protect herself from what she supposed was a marauding Indian only served to insert her more deeply in his heart. And after they’d passed the wagon, he heard her say she’d check on the frightened girl.
After seeing her strength in the woods, he was equally drawn by her vulnerability, liking the way she fit into her mother's arms, even though her mother was smaller. Curtis would be happy to trade places with Linnea just now.
“Mama, I invited them in for a bite,” Jack explained.
Linnea scarcely glanced up. “Help yourselves.”
Ellie turned her head to stare at Jesse through thick, wet lashes. “You’re not angry, are you?”
Jesse spread his hands.“I’m glad you’re safe, Ellie.”
“What happened?” Jack asked.
“I fell asleep when we went for wood and didn’t hear Jesse calling,” Ellie explained. “When I woke up, Curtis, I mean Mr. Locken, found me, and then he and Moses found Jesse.”
“So next time, you’d better just stay home where you belong,” Jesse said.
Although Curtis understood that Jesse’s harshness came from his intense fear for his sister’s safety, the stricken look on Ellie’s face made him take a step toward her. He didn’t know exactly what he’d say, but he he wanted to offer words that would help soften the sting.
Before Curtis could speak, David rose up from the shadows at the end of the sofa where he’d been crouched like a faithful dog. “It's my fault,” he said. “I should have gotten my wood on a different day.” His moist eyes rested on Ellie. “I should have left earlier. I should have kept track of you.“ He glanced down, then back up. “I'm sorry I didn't watch over you, Eleanor.”
Ellie sat up straight and dashed a hand at her eyes. “It wasn't your fault. I’m the one who went walking off to find carving sticks.”
“And where did it get you?” Mama asked, folding her hands on her lap. “Now maybe you'll give up that foolish practice.”
Curtis didn’t miss Ellie’s eyes widening at the bite in her mother’s tone.
“So do you want these in the wood box?” Moses asked, giving the wood in his arms a little bounce.
“No!’ Curtis watched Ellie stand and take the sticks from Moses before carrying them to her room. Seeing pain following pain on Ellie’s beautiful face stirred him deep inside. He determined to do anything in his power to soothe her heartache and replace it with joy. If that meant chopping down a whole forest of wood for her to carve, then so be it.
“Well, Linnea, your evening has turned out well with the return of your daughter,” John Haun said. “I’d best head home now.”
Linnea stood. “Thank you for your willingness to help. Don’t you want to stay for a bite?”
John glanced at Ellie walking out of her room before pulling the door shut behind her. He shook his head. “No, thank you. I’m surely glad for the safe return of your girl.” He nodded vaguely around the room before stepping outside and closing the door behind him.
“Hello, who’s this?” Moses asked, pointing to a picture on the mantle. A dark haired man stared out from the frame, his mouth a little bit blurred, unlike the woman at his side who had her mouth in the traditional straight line. A relaxed face allowed the photo plates exposed to light long enough to burn the image in before anyone in the frame moved. If they so much as smiled, the movement would blur the image.
Silence followed Moses’s question. Curtis looked around at the solemn gathering, guessing who it was before Jesse answered, “That’s our father.” Jesse glanced at his mother. Linnea dipped her head, studying her fingers with intensity. “His wagon train was attacked by Indians. The wagons were looted and burned.” He stopped, swallowed, and finished with, “Our father’s body was not with the ones beside the wagons.”
“Oh, he’s not los’,” Moses mumbled. “Nor his mouth organ.”
Everyone in the room sat bolt upright as if they’d been poked with a hot stick. Jesse was the first to speak. “What did you say?”
Moses looked startled, his eye roving over the white faces staring at him. Ellie stood, her intense gaze fixed on him as if he were an angel fallen from heaven, and she was ready to hear his message.
Moses’s gaze finally settled on Curtis. “I...I’m not certain.” Then his demeanor changed. He hunched his shoulders and put a silly grin on his face. “Don’ pay me no nevah min’,” he said in a thin, high voice as he turned toward the door.
When Curtis saw Moses adopt his slave persona over the intelligent friend that he knew so well, Curtis decided not to pursue the matter in the present company. “He doesn’t always make sense,” Curtis explained. “We’d best be getting along. Come on, Moses.”
“No, wait.” Linnea moved to stand in front of Moses as if seeing him for the first time. “I don’t know what happened to you, but I treat guests right, and I’ve got to treat your poor eye.”
Moses ducked his head. “Ma’am, it happened long ago.”
“Well, it can’t feel good to have it exposed like that. I’ve got some pine sap ointment to treat it.”
Moses glanced at Curtis.
“Begging your pardon, Mrs. Ransom, but it’s healed up as much as it’s able,” Curtis said.
“Well, you only say that because it hasn’t been treated with my ointment yet,” Linnea said. Then she turned to Moses. “And you can’t say that an eye patch wouldn’t make you feel more comfortable out in society.”
“You’re more than kind,” Moses said with a smile.
Linnea made Moses sit at the table and ordered Jack to bring the plate of biscuits and some jam. Moses stared at the plate.
“Save one for him,” Linnea commanded, wetting a cloth and dabbing gently around Moses’s eye while everyone seated themselves at the table. Moses bore Linnea’s doctoring while they everyone else passed around cups and plates and biscuits.
“You mus’ be a good cook, ma’am,” Moses said, his fingers twitching on the table top as if eager to grab a biscuit. “In my time with the Indians, I found they sure do favor white man’s bread, and yours look particular’ good.”
“Why, thank you,” Linnea said, a smile lifting the lines of concentration from her brow.
Curtis watched Ellie, gratified to see her lean away from David when he lowered himself onto the chair beside her. It appeared that the fondness between them only ran in one direction. He couldn’t blame David for his interest in this fascinating young woman. He didn’t intend to let David continue his futile attempts at courting, lest by familiarity, Ellie might eventually be won over.
Satisfied at last, Linnea pulled out a basket of small fabric pieces stored in neat little rolls. “Which one?” she asked, holding the basket out toward Moses.
Moses glanced at Curtis, the ointment that Linnea had dabbed on his mangled eye glinting in the glow of light.
Curtis gave him a mischievous grin. “I think he'd look mighty dandy in that checkered blue one.”
Picking up the bantering spirit, Jesse countered with, “I don’t know. I think the green flower print might favor him.”
“Black would suit,” Ellie suggested in all sincerity. “It matches his hair.”
“This is for Moses to decide for himself,” Linnea said, moving the basket an inch closer to him. “Go ahead, choose one.”
Moses looked around at the expectant faces before reaching down and tugging out a piece of pink that matched Ellie’s ruined dress. “This reminds me of sunrise,” he said in his normal voice.
Without pause, Linnea unrolled the fabric. After cutting off an end to fold into a soft bandage that she pressed
against his eye, she tied a strip neatly around his head to hold it in place. “You have good taste, Mr. Moses,” Linnea said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “Now, keep it clean. It’s clear you’ve had enough trouble as it is.”
“Thank you most’ kindly, ma'am.”
Curtis noticed Ellie staring at Moses, her lips twitching as if trying to suppress a smile.
Linnea brightened. “How about if I send you with two? One to wear and one to wash.”
“You choose,” Moses said. “Muslin’s soft, but the linsey woolsey fabric might be harsh toward an eye.”
“You know your cloth,” Linnea said with surprise.
Moses closed his mouth and gave her a single nod. “I’d be obliged for a biscuit, ma’am.” He got two.
Linnea released Moses with an additional red checked eyepatch, the remaining two biscuits, and strict instructions to return the next day to have his eye checked.
Perhaps helping others was a way that she made up for not being able to help her husband. Seeing no point in explaining again that Moses’s eyes was as healed as it would ever be, Curtis said, “Thank you for your hospitality, ma’am,” then followed Moses to the door.
“Thank you for returning my daughter.”
Curtis paused in the doorway to look back at Ellie. He didn’t need to catch her eye. She was already gazing at him in the soft lamplight as if trying to read his mind. The more time he spent in her company, the better he liked her. She bantered with her brothers, was helpful to her mother, except in the realm of sewing, and was clearly softhearted and loyal. He’d detected none of the characteristics that had rendered the once beautiful Annabelle into a heartless fury. Memorizing Ellie’s winsome expression to carry with him on the ride home, Curtis decided that even if she were homely to look upon, he would still be drawn to her and wish to spend any time he could in her company.