In His Eyes(78)

Lee gulped a mighty breath and began hacking. Ella squealed and turned him to the side, and the baby coughed up thick lumps of mucus. Westley stepped back, amazed. Had his prayer been heard?

Ella patted the baby and Sibby wiped away everything the child spit up, time and time again. He kept coughing, his tiny chest heaving violently. Westley’s fists tightened as doubt set in. Would the child end up dying of the spasms instead of peacefully in his mother’s arms?

Finally, when Westley thought he could endure it no longer, the coughing subsided. Ella bounced the baby and smeared the tears off her face. Then she looked up at him with wonder in her sparkling green eyes and he shifted uncomfortably.

“Your prayer has been answered.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “We don’t know that yet.”

“Ha!” Sibby pointed a finger at him. “This here be a miracle, plain and simple.”

Westley rubbed the tight muscles on the nape of his neck and took a tentative step closer. “Perhaps.”

Ella beamed up at him and held out the boy who carried his name. “Come and see.” She dipped her delicate chin toward the babe. “He heard you, Westley, and he answered.”

Westley stepped closer and cupped his hand under the child’s head, drawing the baby up to his chest. The tiny face tilted toward him, blinking clear dark eyes. Westley stared. His prayer had been answered, and God had unequivocally shredded all of Westley’s doubts about whether the Creator heard their cries. Perhaps he did not answer all of their pleas, but he had answered this one.

His chest constricted as the baby wriggled a fist from the wrapping and waved it around. Despite the tumultuous emotions battling within him, Westley smiled. “Ah, little fighter, there you are. You gave your mother and me quite a scare.”

He heard Ella’s quick intake of breath and realized that he had spoken as though they were a family. This protectiveness he felt, would it be enough? He held her in affection, of that he could admit.

He caught Ella regarding him. As he held her gaze for an instant before she glanced away, her eyes revealed something her words never could. Something that stirred things deep within him.

And as she stepped closer and laid a hand on his arm as she smiled down at the baby, he knew she held him in an affectionate regard as well. Suddenly the decision that had weighed on him all night and had plucked at his mind all day came to rest.

He would ask Ella to shed the ruse, and take his name in truth.





Ella watched as Westley spread out a large patchwork quilt next to one of the magnolia trees in Belmont’s front yard. Light caressed the tree’s shiny leaves and dropped to the green grass as birds sang softly overhead. As though to place a finishing bow on such a fine scene, a butterfly glided down and drifted around Westley’s head.

Three days had passed since he had prayed over Lee, and her wee one had gained strength with each passing hour thereafter. A miracle, indeed. She swayed, rocking Lee gently as he cooed in the dappled light under the tree. Looking at him now, she would never guess he’d been very close to the grave. He’d regained his appetite, and his little cheeks were rosy.

Ella sighed with contentment and let her gaze drift back over to the man who set down a picnic basket on the corner of the quilt. Dressed in dark trousers and bracers, he’d taken off his jacket and had rolled up his shirt sleeves, leaving muscular forearms exposed. He must have been a rather large man, indeed, to be this strong after so long a battle with injury. His shoulders stretched the fabric as he bent to straighten a corner of the quilt, and the way he’d left the collar of his white shirt open exposed the hollow of his throat.

He looked up and caught her eye, and she felt her cheeks warm. But she smiled anyway, enjoying the way the gentle breeze teased his hair. “You were right. This is a perfect day for a picnic.”

He grinned, then shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at her somewhat sheepishly. He had been acting rather odd these last days. He’d been kind and attentive, but…also a bit nervous. The intensity of the other night seemed to have affected him greatly. She’d tried a few times to engage him in conversation on the matter, but he seemed reluctant so she’d let it go. Whatever spiritual issues he faced, he was not yet ready to discuss them.

She offered a reassuring smile and then lowered to her knees to nestle Lee in the blanket Westley had arranged into a little nest for him. Lee swung his tiny fists around, then took to sucking on one of them. Ella rubbed the top of his head and then sat, arranging her voluminous skirts around her.

“I’m making a dress for you.”

Ella blinked. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” The corners of her lips twitched. The very idea of this stoic soldier contemplating fripperies amused her.

Westley ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, I’m not making it, of course. Sibby had your measurements.” He lifted his broad shoulders. “So I gave them to the seamstress.”

Ella smiled. He seemed almost boyish. “That was most kind of you, but rather unnecessary.”

Westley shook his head. “No, it is quite necessary. I don’t want you wearing those widow’s gowns anymore.”

She inclined her head. “Very well. I have others.”

He tugged on the collar of his shirt, seeming restless, as though the topic of dresses caused him some kind of angst. “Not the ragged work dresses, either.” He held up a finger before she could respond. “Or anything that came from that har…..” He glanced at Lee and cleared his throat. “Any of the items you procured from the lady of the night.”