After Curtis Locken left with, “I thank you for a most charming evening,” David stayed.
As her mother cleared the table and worked in the kitchen, she seemed to have forgotten about telling Ellie to get some rest, so Ellie decided to satisfy her curiosity. Turning to David, she whispered, “Did you get to see the new shipment?”
David’s features softened. “Only after I saw you safely home. Do you remember? I carried you.”
“Yes, I remember.”
David’s gaze grew puzzled. “You looked funny. Can people sleep with their eyes open? Because it looked like you were.”
“I wasn’t sleeping.”
David scratched the back of his neck, then pulled his hand around to the front and picked something out from under his fingernails. “I got a whole set of fine gouges. There are some other things, too.” David looked up from his fingernails to smile at Ellie. “Come over and see them.”
That was both the first and last thing she wanted to do. Although she’d love to see the tools, she’d rather not go to his house. Better yet, she’d like to use the tools at her house. She could already feel the satisfaction of carving the warm wood, taking away the parts that hid the beautiful objects trapped inside. It gave her great satisfaction to free the figures that she recognized in the bits of wood she carved into whimsical little animals, trees with twisted trunks, and even Indian teepees. But she wanted to do more, to incorporate her carvings into furniture like Papa had done on the dining table with borrowed tools. When Mama wasn’t around, Papa had even handed Ellie a gouge so the two of them could work together.
Mama had complained about coming home to find her table turned upside down. How was she supposed to feed everyone? And all those wood shavings scattered on her floor had to be swept up. Yet when it was done, even Mama had to admit that she had a unique table like no other in the world.
“Not even the queen of England could lay claim to a table as fancy as this,” Wilburn said, sliding an arm around his wife’s shoulders as they gazed at the finished project.
“I daresay you’re right,” Linnea agreed. “You’ve outdone yourself, Wil.” When he dropped a kiss on his wife’s head, Linnea blushed. “Now I’ve got to get busy and sweep up all those shavings.”
“I can do it,” Wilburn offered.
“You’ve done enough,” Linnea said.
“Anything for you, my love.”
Once the table was done, Ellie and Papa talked about carving the chair legs, too, but they hadn’t gotten to it before Papa had to return the borrowed tools because their owner was moving away. “We can just use our pocket knives, Papa,” Ellie suggested.
“That we could,” Papa agreed. “We’ll give it a try, then.” But they’d never gotten around to it.
Now Ellie understood that gouges were much better for getting the type of detail they’d created on the table. She imagined starting from the beginning with a fine set of tools, carving the wood as the legs were formed, not after the furniture was built.
Oh, Papa, I miss you. Where are you? Please come home. Ellie hardened her face to keep from crying.
“Hey,” David said. “Don’t be mad. You can come over and use any of my wood tools that you want, even the axes and saws.”
“She’s not a lumberjack,” Mama protested. “She’s a seamstress.”
Ellie sighed. Now was not the time to bring it all up again, not after she’d already hurt Mama’s feelings by talking about John Haun.
“Can I borrow Ellie?” Jesse asked their mother with a grin. “I think she needs an outing.”
Linnea shook her head at her son, a slow smile spreading across her face. “You go out. Leave her here.” She turned toward Ellie. “I thought I told you to get some rest.”
Ellie suddenly realized that was just what she wanted to do.