Christmas at Carnton (Carnton 0.5)(52)
“Mmm-hmm. I hear that, ma’am. Now sit down here in this chair by the fire and let me brush that hair ’til it’s dry.”
An hour or so later, her hair all but dry and more relaxed than she could remember, Aletta rose. “I can’t thank you enough for this, Tempy. And . . . for welcoming me as you have into your kitchen.”
Tempy searched her expression then gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “You gonna be all right, ma’am. Even if it don’t feel that way from time to time. I ‘member when my husband, Isum, died. Big old mountain of a man, he was. I come in one evenin’, found him crumpled right there on the floor of the cabin out back. Already gone. Felt like someone ripped my heart out and stomped on it. Still does, some days, when I go missin’ him. Most days, though, I think of him waitin’ for me yonder on them golden streets, and that gives my heart a joy my chest can barely hold.” Her smile said what words never could. “The Lord’ll give you what you need when you need it, Missus Prescott. He always does. You just need to keep watchin’ for it so’s you don’t miss it.”
Still sifting Tempy’s counsel, Aletta climbed the stairs to her room. She looked out the window toward the field where she’d last seen Jake and the boys, said a prayer for them all, and was asleep within seconds of her head touching the pillow.
“You put the blade of grass between your thumbs, like this.” Jake showed the boys by the flicker of the campfire. “A thicker blade of grass works best. Then you cup your hands together and blow like this.” He blew through his thumbs, and the boys’ eyes lit.
“I wanna do it!” Winder scooted closer.
“Me too!”
Jake took turns showing them how, then they settled onto their pallets for some hot chocolate and butter cookies, compliments of Tempy. He figured it was a bit past two o’clock, maybe a little later, and he couldn’t believe they were both still awake. So far they’d done plenty of stargazing, he’d told them stories he remembered from childhood, and they’d asked him about what he did in the army—which he’d kept to generalities. They’d told him every joke they’d ever heard, it seemed like, and had even started making some up.
The way they bantered back and forth and got to laughing over nothing and everything reminded him of how he and Freddie used to carry on as boys.
Jake looked over to find them both asleep. But he knew that if he didn’t keep the promise he’d made to them earlier, he’d pay for it dearly. So no going to sleep for him. He added more wood to the fire, then sat back and enjoyed the sound of the wind through the winter grasses and studied the night sky for a while, the stars a distant blur against a wash of black.
Sometime later, he retrieved his notebook and spectacles and began sketching. He already had the drawings he needed for the newspaper article. Problem would be choosing which ones to include and what to say about the auction overall. As the night sky deepened, he knew the first blush of dawn wasn’t long away, which meant that he needed to—
Then he heard it. Somewhere behind him. A rustling in the grass.
That much noise was no small animal, and he pulled his rifle closer. Whatever it was, was still some distance away, just over the ridge. Not about to leave the boys, he took off his spectacles and moved just beyond the circle of firelight and into the darkness. His eyes quickly adjusted, and then he saw her. Or was fairly certain it was her. What other woman would be out here walking the field this time of the morning?
“Aletta?”
“Good morning, Jake,” she whispered, the swoosh of her skirts enough to wake every animal between there and Kentucky. This woman . . .
“What are you doing out here?” As if he didn’t already know.
She held up a basket as she came closer. “I brought some pie and milk. And some coffee. I thought you all might be hungry. How are the boys doing?”
He took the basket from her and caught a whiff of lilac and something else sweet and womanly. “They’re sleeping for now. But the sun will be coming up soon, so I need to wake them shortly for one last bit of stargazing.”
She knelt by Andrew and tucked his blanket closer about him, then did the same to Winder. Neither boy stirred.
“Well . . .” She rose. “I guess I should head on back to the house.”
“Thank you for the pie and drinks. We’ll enjoy them.”
She turned to go then paused. “Would you mind terribly if I stayed for a while? I promise I won’t get in the way.”
Open to her company anytime, anywhere, Jake gestured to his pallet and claimed a space opposite the fire from her.
“So what’s it been like?” she asked after a moment. “The sleepout.”
He gave her a quick summary of what they’d done and talked about, and as he watched her watching her son sleep, he got an inkling of how difficult it must have been for her to watch them walk away last night. The boy was her world now. Him, along with the child she was carrying. They were all she had left of her husband. So he didn’t blame her for being a bit overprotective.
The silence lengthened and the crackle of the flames filled the quiet between them.
“Thank you for your kindness to Emmett Zachary, Jake. It meant a lot to Kate. And to me too.”
“I was happy to do it.” Tempted to tell her about the idea he’d been turning around in his head, he decided it was a mite soon. Besides, it might scare her off, and he was working hard on being patient.