The Promise of Morning (37 page)

Matthew’s heart lifted. “I hoped you’d feel that way.”

“Will you tell her when you’re back that way?”

“I can’t. They were packing up to leave, and I don’t know where they were going next.” Regret tinged his reply.

When Matthew climbed the stairs to bed, he smiled at the sounds of the two girls chattering in Maria’s room. He hoped they’d become friends. When they found a home for Graciana, the transition would be easier if she already had a playmate.

Wearing her nightdress, Ellie waited for him in the rocking chair. Her blonde hair hung over her shoulder in a thick braid. “I’m sorry I lost my temper,” she said when he closed the door. “It’s been a . . . strenuous day.” Her lower lip trembled.

“Finding a strange child in your kitchen must have been a shock.”

Ellie shook her head. “That’s the least of it.” She closed her eyes for a moment and then said, “Tell me everything. You went to Kentucky—is that where Graciana came from?”

Matthew settled on a corner of the bed and hooked one arm around the bedpost. Ellie’s golden beauty moved him as it never had. He regretted all the times he’d made light of her fears of abandonment.

“I missed you so much!” he blurted.

“I missed you too.” Her face softened. “Every day. Now, please, tell me about that little girl.”

Raindrops pecked at the window pane as Matthew began his story with an account of his visit to his father’s farm, and how his father had urged him to go back and wrest control of his church from Marcus Beldon. Then he described finding Graciana hiding on the dock at Oakport.

He shook his head. “I couldn’t just leave her there. She has no one. Her mother was a Mexican woman who passed away several years ago. Her father died last winter.”

“Was he from Mexico too?”

“I don’t think so. She said he was light skinned and had white hair.” He swallowed. “Anyway, some neighbors arranged for a slave woman, Graciana called her ‘Aunt Polly,’ to get her away from the border area where the war is being fought. My best guess is Aunt Polly was taken by slave catchers once they crossed the Ohio. All the child knows is some bad men took her.” He massaged the back of his neck to reduce the tension crawling over his back and shoulders. “Graciana is afraid of being left again. You noticed how she sticks to me like a burr.”

“Yes. I can hardly blame her, now that I’ve heard her story.”

“We’ll take care of her until we can find a family who wants her. I know you’re already burdened with our youngsters.”

“Mrs. Carstairs.”

“What?”

“Penelope Carstairs. She recently lost a baby. Maybe they would welcome Graciana.” She straightened. “And Matt, our children are not a burden. I love them. While Graciana’s here, I’ll show her the same love.”

“You’re a surprise to me at times.”

Ellie eyes twinkled. “That’s not all bad.”

After the family finished breakfast the next morning, the boys headed for the barn to start the chores. Maria gathered the breakfast plates and carried them to the basin. Without saying a word, Graciana pushed her chair away from Matthew’s side, stacked the cutlery on the serving platter, and joined Maria. The two girls studied each other for a quiet moment, then Maria smiled and moved to one side so they could share the workspace.

Matthew watched them, the corner of his mouth quirked in a grin. He spoke to Ellie in an undertone. “I was afraid Maria’d be jealous while Graciana stayed with us. Looks like I worried for nothing.”

An odd expression crossed Ellie’s face. “Did you notice how much those two look alike? Maria’s taller, and fair-skinned of course, but see their profiles?”

He squinted at the girls. “Hmm. Maybe. Hard to say.” He pushed his pewter mug toward her. “Any of that coffee left?”

Ellie brought the coffee boiler to the table. When she leaned over him to fill his cup, her breast brushed against his shoulder. Matthew leaned away. Sleeping next to her last night had resurrected desires he’d hoped were under control.

After another glance in the girl’s direction, Ellie took a chair opposite Matthew. “How are you going to spend your first day back?”

“On the farm. I want to see what the boys have done while I’ve been gone. And I need to check Samson. Looked like he favored his left rear hoof some before we got here.” He flexed his shoulders and blew out a deep sigh. “I’m glad to be home. Riding circuit’s for young sparks.” Matthew shook his head. “Never again.”

She reached across the table and clasped his hand. “Your decision is an answer to prayer. I need you here. We need you here. The church needs you here. Did Uncle Arthur tell you Mr. Wolcott’s been holding services in the rear of his store?”

“No. When did he start that?” He lifted his mug. Did he see a flicker of disappointment in her eyes when her hand fell away from his? He blew on the surface of the coffee to cool it.

“It’s been three or four weeks now. Molly and Karl have attended, and she says that quite a number of folks from your congregation are there.”

“You haven’t gone?”

She shook her head and pointed toward the back porch where Arthur went to sit after breakfast. “Uncle Arthur fell just before the first meeting. There’s been no way to get to town.”

“You could’ve asked Karl when he came out to tend Arthur.” He felt a surge of meanness. “Or didn’t you want to hurt Beldon’s feelings?”

Ellie’s face reddened. “Mr. Beldon’s feelings had nothing to do with it.” She pushed back her chair and stood, her voice changing from friendly to curt. “If you’re going out to check on Samson, you’d better get started.”

Matthew saw the hurt in her eyes, and regretted his gibe. “Ellie, I . . .”

“What?” Her lower lip trembled.

He couldn’t think of anything to say to turn things around. “Uh, I’ll come in at dinnertime.”

29

“Are you still hungry, Graciana?” Ellie asked. “There’s plenty more corn mush.”

“No, thank you, ma’am.”

Ellie covered the pot on the stove and walked back to the table. “You’ve been with us for a week now. Why don’t you call me ‘Aunt Ellie’?” She smiled. “That’s friendlier than ‘ma’am,’ don’t you think? After all, you call Reverend Craig ‘Uncle Matthew.’”

“Papa said for me to call grown-ups ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am.’”

“I was taught that too. But adults who are friends can be uncle and aunt—even if they aren’t your real relatives. So . . . can I be ‘Aunt Ellie’?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Graciana blushed. “Yes, Aunt Ellie.”

“That’s better.” She patted the child’s shoulder, then pulled out a chair opposite Matthew. Leaning her forearms on the tabletop, she studied his face. His eyes flicked away, then met hers.

She took a deep breath
.
“You haven’t left the farm since you got home. We didn’t even go to church Sunday.” Her heart pounded. She felt a flush rise in her cheeks. “What are you hiding from?”

“I’m not hiding.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Ben stopped by last week. He knows I’m home.”

“Did you tell him about your decision not to go back on the circuit?”

“What is this? Have you suddenly become my conscience?”

Graciana glanced from Matthew to Ellie. “Can I go visit Samson?”

“Certainly.” Matthew’s expression warmed. “He looks for you every time I go into the barn.”

“I like him.” She skipped out the back door, her doll tucked under one arm.

Grateful for the diversion, Ellie watched the child run past the black walnut sapling and disappear into the barn. “She certainly has a way with animals. She could probably harness King George and not get stomped.”

“Not that I’d want her to try.” Matthew turned his attention back to Ellie, his jaw tightening. “There’s no need for you to tell me what to do. I planned to go to town today. Ben and I discussed me preaching at the meetings behind the store.” He frowned.

Ellie squeezed her hands together in her lap. Since Matthew’d been home, they’d done nothing but snipe at each other. She longed for the days when they could resolve their differences with a kiss.

She reached for his hand across the table, but he stood and headed for the door.

“While I’m in town, I’ll pay a call on Mrs. Carstairs. We need to find a home for Graciana before she becomes too attached to us.”

The idea of losing Graciana brought unexpected tears to Ellie’s eyes. The child already felt like a member of the family.

Ellie stood on the porch and watched as Matthew rode past the willows and over the bridge. Graciana came out of the barn and watched him too. She held her doll by one arm, its head brushing the dusty ground, its owner looking forlorn.

Ellie walked down the back steps. “Why don’t you go wading in the creek with the others? They’d be happy to have you join them.”

“Not right now, thank you, ma’am—Aunt Ellie.” Her lips curved upward. “Maria already asked me. I wanted to visit Samson, but now he’s gone to town with Uncle Matthew.”

Graciana’s round brown eyes brightened when she mentioned the horse. Ellie studied her, trying to think of a way to keep her busy during Matthew’s absence.

The girl took a step backward. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh, no.” Ellie bent over and drew Graciana into her arms. “You haven’t done anything wrong at all. It’s a joy to have you here.” She dropped a kiss on the top of Graciana’s head, then released her. “Come in the house with me. I think there are a couple of Maria’s outgrown dresses that might fit you. They’re upstairs in the storeroom.”

Ellie took Graciana’s free hand and walked toward the house, talking as she went. “By the time clothes have passed from boy to boy, there’s nothing left but rags. But Maria doesn’t have a little sister—” She stopped and swallowed sudden tears, then took a new breath. “A little sister to hand things down to.”

“I don’t have a little sister, either.” The doll’s head bumped on the risers as they climbed the back steps. “It was always just me and Papa, as long as I can remember.”

“All seven years.” Ellie smiled down at her, teasing.

“Yes.” The child nodded, a serious expression on her face. Her lip trembled. “Now, no Papa.”

Ellie squeezed her hand. “I don’t have a papa, either. Uncle Arthur is my papa.” She pointed to him, dozing in his chair on the porch. His white beard curled beneath his round pink cheeks. A tiny snore escaped his open mouth.

Graciana giggled and whispered, “He looks like Papa. White hair and a beard.”

They stepped into the kitchen.

“While we’re in the storeroom, we can do a bit of cleaning.” Ellie collected a broom and a damp rag before heading upstairs.

Graciana followed her over the threshold of the room and then stopped, her eyes taking in the collection of wooden boxes and trunks stacked against the far wall. After a moment’s hesitation, she moved to the carved walnut cradle Ellie had used for each of her babies. Kneeling, she placed her doll on the red blanket tucked under the hood.

When she looked up, her face shone with pleasure. “Papa made a cradle for my doll, but it was too big to bring with me.” She stroked the carving on one side, setting the cradle to rocking. Ellie stood, transfixed. Her first impulse was to snatch the doll from the bed. She bit her lip to keep from saying anything.

She paused until she could control her voice. “Let’s look for Maria’s clothes. They must be near the front of the stack.” Ellie leaned the broom against the wall and dusted the top of a box with the damp rag.