A Promise for Ellie (37 page)

“You’re not being morbid. It’s not been very long.”

“Thank you.”

Ingeborg watched the young woman turn and smile at something someone else said, as if nothing was wrong.
Why are we like that?

Hiding the hurts as if we’re ashamed of them? When they’re not even our
fault? Like me with being so cranky, and I didn’t want to tell anyone. Yet
when I talked with Elizabeth, she was able to help me. Lord, how often
have I not reached out to someone when I should have, when you’ve
prompted me, and I said, “Later”? Even after all these years of knowing
these women, there are too many secrets
.

E
LLIE, HOW COULD YOU
do such a thing?

Andrew let up the pressure on the cow’s udders. “Sorry.” Cows did not like force. They liked to be sweet-talked. Like women. He sucked in a deep breath and let the relaxation flow down his arms to his hands.

The cow quit switching her tail, and her restless hooves remained on the floor.

Why do I have the feeling Ellie knows more than she is telling me?
That thought had been bombarding him all day. Had one of the cigarettes or cigars from those smoking out back been accidentally tossed into some dry grass and smoldered until it finally flamed? That was the only possibility he could think of, unless someone set it on purpose. He thought to the fire earlier in the spring. They finally decided some bum had sought refuge and went to sleep smoking. Burned himself up along with the machine shed. That the body was found back in a corner supported the theory. Sheriff Becker from Grafton said the same thing. Bridget said there had been a man asking at the boardinghouse if he could work for a meal earlier in the day. So that all fell into place. But this—there was no rhyme nor reason for the barn to go up in flames.

He finished the milking and hauled the full milk cans up to the cheese house to pour into the big flat pans in the morning.

“Astrid,” Andrew asked at the supper table, “can you think of anything else from the night of the fire?”

She sighed and shook her head, giving him a look of patience pushed to the extreme. “We’ve gone over this a hundred times.”

“I know. You said you all raced out of the house after Ellie. But didn’t anyone see something? Please, I know this is repetitious, but I have to know.”
Besides, I have a feeling Ellie knows something she’s not
telling me.

How would you know? You don’t see her much more often than if she
were in Grafton.
How could he ever tell her that the sight of her without hair had ignited his rage all over again?

Astrid shook her head, but she closed her eyes, the easier to replay the scene. “I was right behind Ellie.We saw smoke. Ellie took charge and sent Sophie home. She said, ‘Sophie, you can run the fastest. You go get our families,’ or something like that. Then Grace and Deborah went to ring the church bell. They took off. Ellie started for the barn screaming, ‘My chickens.’ Rebecca tried to stop her, but she pulled away, and . . .” Astrid stopped her singsong recitation.

“What?”

“Ellie said something else”—Astrid’s eyes widened—“right when we ran out the door.”

Andrew leaned forward. Biting his lip, he waited with all the patience he could muster.

Astrid frowned, scrunching her eyes closed. “‘Someone at the barn. I see someone.’ ” She shook her head again. “Something like that, but Andrew, I wouldn’t count on—”

The screen door slammed as Andrew dashed out.

He ran across the fields, climbing fences rather than following the longer roads, figuring he could run to town faster than catching a horse. He flopped down on the steps to Thorliff ’s house to catch his breath before going to find Ellie. To catch his breath and order himself not to flinch when he saw her.

“Well, look who’s here, the long-lost suitor.” Thorliff joined him on the steps.

“Is Ellie here?”

“Nothing like saying, ‘Hello, how are you’ or ‘Good to see you.’ ” “I need to talk to Ellie.”

“Ah, but the question is, does Ellie want to talk with you? You’ve not treated her very well, you know.”

Don’t preach to me. I do enough of that myself
. “I know and I have to apologize. Would you please ask her if she’ll see me?” The thought of Ellie not wanting to see him made his stomach knot and his throat shut. “Please, Thorliff.”

Thorliff laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Don’t count on it.” On his way into the house, he stopped and turned around. “You’re not going to badger her again, are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know. Ask her the same questions over and over. If I were you, I’d apologize and ask her to forgive you, and leave it go at that. Talk about the wedding or something girls like to talk about. Just giving you a word of advice. That’s all. A warning too. If Elizabeth thinks you are not taking good care of her patient, she’ll string you up by your ears. I can tell you from experience, you don’t want to have that happen.”

“But—”

“I’m just warning you.”

Andrew glanced down at his shirt. Bits of wheat straw and chaff clung to it; dust from the threshing grayed the material.
I should have
changed, washed up good and changed my shirt, at least
. He took off his hat and beat the dust out by banging it against his leg, then smoothed his hair back with both hands before setting his hat in place again. Since when did he start acting before thinking? Since Ellie got him so tied up in knots, he didn’t know here from there. He could feel the furrows deepening in his forehead, so he smoothed them away with his fingers. Afraid to turn his head and be disappointed, he froze when he heard the door squeak open.

“Andrew, would you like to come in?” Ellie said, stepping out onto the porch.

“Ah, it’s nice out here. Do you feel like sitting down here or up on the chairs?” He had yet to turn and look at her. “I mean it is cooler out here, and—”

“Andrew, am I so terribly deformed that you cannot even look at me?”

“Why? Ellie, why would you say that?” He leaped to his feet, whipped his hat off with one hand, and turned to stare at her feet, her skirt, anywhere but her face, her sweet face that was no longer framed by long golden hair that glinted in the sunlight and glowed in the lamplight.

Her sigh tugged at his heart and set him to calling himself names, which made him chew on grump again.

“Here, take this chair. I’m going to get us something to drink.” The door slammed behind her before he could get any more words past the lump in his throat.
I don’t want something to drink. I want to
talk to you
. He sat down in one of the rocking chairs and hooked his hat over his knee.

The door squeaked again, and he leaped to his feet. “I’ll get that for you.”

Ellie backed out of the door, tray in her hands. She handed him the tray and moved a small table in between the two chairs. “Set it here, please.”

Andrew did as she said and took his chair again. She sat on the edge of the seat, as if ready to run at the slightest provocation. She handed him a glass of lemonade and held the plate of cookies until he took a couple. The crunch of cookies broke the silence.

Might as well get it over with
. He took a swig of lemonade to wash down the cookie that stuck in his throat. And coughed. Glancing up, he caught her staring at him, her face frozen in a polite smile, the kind one wore when one didn’t really care for the visitor.
Oh, Ellie
. He wanted to reach for her hand, but the thought that she might not let him take her hand scared him so badly he choked on another bite of cookie.

He drank more, cleared his throat, and forced out the words. “Please forgive me, Ellie. I am so sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“Um, for being so angry at you.” He rubbed the knuckle on his right hand. “I guess for being so angry at everything.”

“Andrew, you’ve not been to see me for four days.”

“I’m sorry. I just can’t—”

“Can’t what? Forgive me for doing something stupid? Yes, I know now I should not have gone into that barn, but I did and I’ve paid the price for that. I’m still paying the price for it.” She paused to catch her breath. “Or are you sorry you can’t look at me?”

“I look at you—” His voice tightened.

“No you don’t. You look at my skirt, you look past me, but you don’t look right at me.”

Ellie had raised her voice. She was yelling at him! He stared at her, shock widening his eyes.

When she started to cough, he clenched his jaw and waited.

She took a sip of lemonade and sat back in her chair, her chest heaving with the effort of sucking in much needed air.

He stared at her hands, tightly woven in her lap. “Astrid said she thinks you saw someone at the barn that night.”

“I might have.”

“Do you know who it is?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, who do you think it might be?”

His sarcastic tone brought her forward in her chair. She kept her voice low so she could breathe better. “Andrew Bjorklund, you better listen real good, because I’m only going to say this once. I’m not sure who it was, and you will not badger me to find out. I don’t think for a moment someone set that fire on purpose, and you just better let it go, or you’ll turn into some bitter, angry man with no friends because you drove them all away.”

“Ellie, I—” He swallowed the fire that leaped in his belly.

“I will forgive you. I have forgiven you.”

“It doesn’t sound like it to me.” His words could have been heard above a threshing machine. “I have to know if someone set that fire. He almost killed you.”

“I almost killed myself. Can’t you understand that?” She whipped the scarf off her head. “Look at me. My hair is growing back, my voice is coming back. Let it go, Andrew Bjorklund. Let God deal with it. He’s given me a new life, and He’d give you one if you’d let Him.” She doubled over coughing and staggered to the door.

“Let me help you!” He reached for her, but she slid past him and disappeared into the house. He could hear her coughing all the way down the hall. He reached for the door handle, stopped, and stared down at his hat, mangled between his hands. He stomped off the porch and toward the street, cramming his hat back onto his head, his arms pumping at his sides.
Let it go?
What did she know?
Why’d
I bother to say I’m sorry anyway? That’s the way she wants it, so be it. She knows something she’s not telling me. I know she does
.

Staring at the ground, he almost bumped into Toby Valders standing in front of him. “What do you want?”

“Don’t take it out on Ellie.”

“Who do you think you are?”

“I was at your barn.”

“What! Why were you there? You started that fire?”

“No, I was at the barn, but I—” Toby reeled back from the roundhouse punch to his jaw.

With a roar of rage Andrew followed that punch by leaping onto the stumbling man. He grabbed Toby by the throat, and they fell to the ground, Andrew on top. He banged Toby’s head against the ground, knees holding him down.

“You nearly killed Ellie, you . . .” A string of names followed, accompanying the slamming.

“Andrew, no. Stop it!” Thorliff tried to pull him off but got an elbow in the gut for his trouble. He leaped onto his brother’s back and locked an arm around his neck. “Andrew! Andrew! You’ll kill him.”

With a roar Andrew threw Thorliff off his back and staggered to his feet. “Get up, you slimy dog.” Wiping blood from his nose, where Toby had landed a punch, Andrew leaned over to grab Toby’s collar and drag him to his feet.

Thorliff tackled him from behind, catching him in the knees and slamming him to the ground.

Andrew lay there, one hand pounding the dirt. “Ellie! Ellie!”

Having already heard the fight going on, Elizabeth and Ellie were on the porch. At his scream Ellie ran to kneel at his side, coughing and choking but grabbing his hand.

“Oh, Andrew, what have you done?”

“I think he might have just killed Toby.”

“L
ET’S GET HIM
into the surgery,” Elizabeth ordered. “Thorliff, you take his feet. Andrew, get up here and help carry him. Be careful with his head. If you broke his neck, there’s no chance.”