In His Eyes(7)

Ella pressed her lips into a line. Was the woman right? She glanced down at the boy. Even so, she could not live with herself if she didn’t at least try. “I must take him.”

Mrs. Hatch pointed a bony finger at her. “Then you best gather what belongs to you and be out. And don’t even think of coming back. Not only are you too daft to listen to reason, you likely contracted what she had.”

Ella wrinkled her nose. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Yet, even as the angry words spurted from her lips, regret clawed at her. Where else would she go? She’d had just enough funds to take a train from Woodville after her home had burned and Papa died. She’d ridden the train as far north as she could go, then took work here in the lackluster town of Parsonville, situated just north of the ravished town of Greenville. She’d hoped to catch a boat up the river, but as Greenville had been left in ruins by a Yankee gunboat and she had no funds to carry her anywhere else, here is where her foolish hope had abandoned her. She’d scrubbed the kitchen at the Buckhorn Inn for meals and lodging alone.

Mrs. Hatch’s beady eyes landed on the valise and Ella clutched it tighter. “Stealing from the tart, eh?”

Ella set her shoulders. “I don’t think she would mind me having this.”

Her employer opened her thin lips, and Ella could guess the greedy words that would come next. She held out the valise. “But you can take it. I’m certain the disease won’t carry to clothing…right?”

The older woman stepped back, and fear sprang into her eyes just as Ella expected. She waved her hand. “No, no. You go on and take it. Lord knows you have little enough in this world.”

Ella smiled at the false kindness and gave a nod before passing the woman and heading for the kitchen. In the storeroom she shoved her only other dress and a few underclothes into the valise on top of whatever else was in there. She would have to look through it all later, lest Mrs. Hatch change her mind and come for it before Ella could make it out of the inn. Not giving the place one final glance, Ella exited the kitchen, passed the defeated soldiers, and stepped out into a warm May afternoon. Now, how to find where she needed to go?

She looked down the street. Just past the general store stood her best hope—the livery. Lifting her work dress, lest she fray the hem any more, Ella stepped out into the street and walked as briskly as she could without drawing attention. Thankfully, the baby seemed to be content, and if she drew the cloak close, his tiny form was nearly hidden. It was a bit warm for such a wrap during the day, but wearing it seemed preferable to carrying it.

In the livery she found an elderly man mucking stalls for three scraggly looking horses. Not many decent animals had survived the war and the army’s commandeering. They’d lost all of their good stock back at home. That’s what had set Papa’s drinking aflame, even worse than when he’d first began after Mama died.

Ella lifted a hand. “Sir? Excuse me, sir?”

The man turned. “Eh?” He straightened. “Oh, sorry, miss. Didn’t hear you come in.”

“That’s quite all right. I wondered if I might ask you a question.”

He leaned against the shovel. “Certainly. Could use a rest for my back anyhow.”

Ella couldn’t help but smile at the man’s good humor. Solid for a man of his years, Ella guessed he had once been quite a bull of a man. Wispy white hair sprouted from around his large ears, but left the top of his head untouched. He smiled at her, and Ella was surprised to see he still had all of his teeth.

“I am looking for the Remington house. Might you know where that is?”

His gaze dropped down to the baby tied to the front of her dress and something lit in his eyes. “Belmont. Ah, yes…um, well, I hate to be the one to tell you, miss, but Mr. and Mrs. Remington both died this past winter. No one is left there to take in the….” He rubbed the back of his neck and averted his eyes. “The, uh, unfortunate girls anymore.”

She blinked in surprise before she gathered his meaning. He thought her one like Cynthia. She could feel her cheeks redden. “Oh! No, sir. I am not looking for that kind of help.”

The man’s eyes widened. “My sincerest apologies. I just haven’t seen you before and, well….” He looked down at the baby.

Ella stood taller. “The child is in need of a wet nurse. And soon. I was told one resided at the Remington place…?”

The man brightened. “Certainly.” He scratched the back of his balding head. “I could give you a ride. Make up for the embarrassing misunderstanding.”

Ella hesitated only for an instant. “I would be most grateful, sir. Thank you.”

A quarter of an hour later, Ella sat on a bench seat of a buckboard next to the old man as they jostled their way out of Parsonville. Ella held the baby as best she could, lest he bounce too hard. Amazing that he could sleep like that. Perhaps he would be an easy babe. Or perhaps he was still too weak after having nearly suffocated.

Such a sweet thing. His little dark lashes splayed across rounded cheeks. A pang constricted her chest. She would hate to give him up. Oh, it was what he needed, of course, but…. Looking down at that angelic little face clenched her heart. Perhaps there would be work for her at—what had the livery master called it? Belmont?—and she wouldn’t really have to be separated from him just yet.

She buried the hope down in her heart and tried not to let it sprout too quickly. There were far more people around these days who needed work than places that provided it. But Ella was willing to work for nothing more than a roof and a bit to eat. Perchance that would be enough.