“I’m so frightened. I just can’t lose Julia.”
“Don’t talk nonsense, child. You know how quick young’uns come back from sickness.”
Ellie backed up a step. “I know how quick they succumb too.” Memories of her three precious babies filled her mind—tiny, pale bodies laid in small coffins. So quiet, so cold.
Aunt Ruby nodded, sympathy written across her face. “Yes, dear, I know you do.” She took both of Ellie’s hands in hers. “But for your sake, you need to trust that she’s going to be perfectly restored.”
Seeing her aunt’s reassuring expression, Ellie allowed herself to feel a sliver of hope. Aunt Ruby’s pragmatism annoyed her at times. Now she saw it as full of promise.
“I’ll go down and cook supper. You stay here if that’s what you want. I’ll fix you a tray.” Briskly, with a “that’s settled” air, Aunt Ruby trotted down the stairs into the kitchen.
Before Ellie closed the bedroom door, she heard a clamor of voices as the boys returned from woodcutting. It sounded like they were each talking at once, asking about Julia.
“She’s sleeping nicely,” Aunt Ruby said, her voice clipped. “If you boys will keep quiet, she’ll be able to continue.”
Ellie shut the door on her family and took up her vigil beside the crib.
7
Ellie stood close to the open grave, her aunt and uncle on one side and her husband on the other. Their four children clung together next to Matthew. She heard them sniffle while Mr. Wolcott read a brief funeral message from a thick Bible held in his right hand. Matthew’s body shook with silent sobs, but Ellie hadn’t been able to cry since the night Julia died.
“‘Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God,’” Mr. Wolcott read. He turned toward Matthew and Ellie. “Julia has been spared all the pain that goes with life on this earth. She’s safe in the arms of Jesus.”
His words buzzed in her ears like so many bees. She couldn’t follow the service. Her only thought was to get home and crawl into bed, away from the reach of the well-meaning townspeople who surrounded them.
Mr. Wolcott handed her a small spade, a gesture signifying the close of the service . Ellie pushed the spade into the pile of earth in front of her, quivering both with emotion and lack of food. She flung a shovelful onto the white wooden coffin resting at the bottom of the grave. The damp soil landed with a hollow thunk.
She turned to hand the tool to Matthew and couldn’t find him. A blanket of gray obscured everything around her. The hole in the earth disappeared, and she felt herself float away to someplace warm and quiet.
When Ellie opened her eyes, she lay on the front seat of their wagon. Matthew’s worried face stared down at her. “The sun shouldn’t be shining today,” she said. “Funerals are meant to be dark.”
He turned his head, speaking to someone out of her range of vision. “She’s awake.”
Behind him, Aunt Ruby’s voice responded. “Glory be.” The wagon jiggled as she climbed up beside her niece. “You like to scared us half to death, child.”
Ellie pushed herself up on one elbow. Her children were clustered on the rear seat.
“Mama?” Maria leaned forward. “Are you all right now?”
She reached up and touched her daughter’s cheek. “Yes, I think so. I don’t know what happened.”
Aunt Ruby hovered next to her. “You caused quite a stir. You’ve been out for some time.”
“I have?” It felt like mere seconds had passed since she held the shovel at the burial site.
“At least five minutes.”
Ellie noticed a knot of townspeople lingering nearby. Matthew’s fists clenched when Mr. Beldon detached himself from the group and walked to the wagon.
“Reverend Craig. I wonder if I may be of assistance.” He gestured toward the edge of the cemetery, where a plum-colored phaeton waited in the dappled shade of a hickory tree. “Mrs. Beldon and I would be
“Don’t talk nonsense, child. You know how quick young’uns come back from sickness.”
Ellie backed up a step. “I know how quick they succumb too.” Memories of her three precious babies filled her mind—tiny, pale bodies laid in small coffins. So quiet, so cold.
Aunt Ruby nodded, sympathy written across her face. “Yes, dear, I know you do.” She took both of Ellie’s hands in hers. “But for your sake, you need to trust that she’s going to be perfectly restored.”
Seeing her aunt’s reassuring expression, Ellie allowed herself to feel a sliver of hope. Aunt Ruby’s pragmatism annoyed her at times. Now she saw it as full of promise.
“I’ll go down and cook supper. You stay here if that’s what you want. I’ll fix you a tray.” Briskly, with a “that’s settled” air, Aunt Ruby trotted down the stairs into the kitchen.
Before Ellie closed the bedroom door, she heard a clamor of voices as the boys returned from woodcutting. It sounded like they were each talking at once, asking about Julia.
“She’s sleeping nicely,” Aunt Ruby said, her voice clipped. “If you boys will keep quiet, she’ll be able to continue.”
Ellie shut the door on her family and took up her vigil beside the crib.
7
Ellie stood close to the open grave, her aunt and uncle on one side and her husband on the other. Their four children clung together next to Matthew. She heard them sniffle while Mr. Wolcott read a brief funeral message from a thick Bible held in his right hand. Matthew’s body shook with silent sobs, but Ellie hadn’t been able to cry since the night Julia died.
“‘Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God,’” Mr. Wolcott read. He turned toward Matthew and Ellie. “Julia has been spared all the pain that goes with life on this earth. She’s safe in the arms of Jesus.”
His words buzzed in her ears like so many bees. She couldn’t follow the service. Her only thought was to get home and crawl into bed, away from the reach of the well-meaning townspeople who surrounded them.
Mr. Wolcott handed her a small spade, a gesture signifying the close of the service . Ellie pushed the spade into the pile of earth in front of her, quivering both with emotion and lack of food. She flung a shovelful onto the white wooden coffin resting at the bottom of the grave. The damp soil landed with a hollow thunk.
She turned to hand the tool to Matthew and couldn’t find him. A blanket of gray obscured everything around her. The hole in the earth disappeared, and she felt herself float away to someplace warm and quiet.
When Ellie opened her eyes, she lay on the front seat of their wagon. Matthew’s worried face stared down at her. “The sun shouldn’t be shining today,” she said. “Funerals are meant to be dark.”
He turned his head, speaking to someone out of her range of vision. “She’s awake.”
Behind him, Aunt Ruby’s voice responded. “Glory be.” The wagon jiggled as she climbed up beside her niece. “You like to scared us half to death, child.”
Ellie pushed herself up on one elbow. Her children were clustered on the rear seat.
“Mama?” Maria leaned forward. “Are you all right now?”
She reached up and touched her daughter’s cheek. “Yes, I think so. I don’t know what happened.”
Aunt Ruby hovered next to her. “You caused quite a stir. You’ve been out for some time.”
“I have?” It felt like mere seconds had passed since she held the shovel at the burial site.
“At least five minutes.”
Ellie noticed a knot of townspeople lingering nearby. Matthew’s fists clenched when Mr. Beldon detached himself from the group and walked to the wagon.
“Reverend Craig. I wonder if I may be of assistance.” He gestured toward the edge of the cemetery, where a plum-colored phaeton waited in the dappled shade of a hickory tree. “Mrs. Beldon and I would be
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