Dorothy Clark - A Season of the Heart

“But the snow, Ellen... You can’t—”

“Of course not. I’ll have Asa drive me. I’ll leave as soon as I’m warmed. Meanwhile...” She stepped to the settee and lifted a threadbare brown wool dress from the pile to distract herself from the panic building at her rash offers. “This would serve for a shepherd’s robe.” She glanced up as Willa joined her, reading relief and something more in her friend’s blue-green eyes—satisfaction? Willa truly needed her. It was an odd sensation. She had always been pampered and taken care of. No one had ever needed her. She tilted her head and smiled. “I assume there is a shepherd?”

“Yes. And the Three Wise Men. And Joseph and Mary, of course.”

“Of course. Is there anything green in this pile? I think green would be lovely for Mary—it’s the color of life.”

“A wonderful suggestion, Ellen.” Willa smiled and scooped the pile into her arms. “Let me put these on the chair by the hearth while we make our choices. That way you’ll get nice and warm before you leave for Butternut Hill.”

“A good idea. Perhaps we can— Oh, my...”

“What?”

She laid aside the brown wool dress she held and touched a bit of white lace peeking out of the pile. “Look at this.” A tattered lace-trimmed tablecloth unfolded as she pulled it from the pile. “Is there an angel?”

“Certainly. We can’t have the Christmas story without including the angel that brought the good tidings.” Willa smiled at her, then leaned down and riffled through the pile. “What have we to use for Joseph? Perhaps dark blue? Ah...”

“What?”

“Here is something green.” Willa tugged a dress from the pile and held it up. “Is this the color you had in mind for Mary?”

She stared at the deep green color of the dress—the color Daniel’s eyes turned when he was angry. The color they were whenever he looked at her. Her pleasure in their quest for the right fabrics dulled. “It’s perfect.” She draped the white tablecloth over the chair back and moved closer to the fire to warm herself. Daniel was on his way back to camp, and soon she would be following his path on the sleigh ride to Butternut Hill. He was leading the way, cutting a trail as he always had. A bittersweet smile touched her lips, then turned to a frown. She had to stop remembering. Thankfully, Daniel would be busy at work hauling logs during her time home and would not be around to remind her of her silly, childish dreams.

Chapter Four

“Ease up, Big Girl. Whoa, Big Boy.” Daniel hopped off the sledge and tromped forward as yard workers, peaveys and steel rods in hand, swarmed onto the pile of logs he’d hauled in.

“Daniel!”

He turned at the hail, spotted Cole Aylward and trudged through the trampled snow of the log yard to the sawmill. “You wanted me?”

“Yes. Come into the office while the men unload your sledge.”

He glanced up at the smoke rising from the chimney. “With pleasure.” He stomped up the log slide to the sawmill deck and followed Cole into the attached room. Warmth from the woodstove greeted him. He tugged off his hat and stayed close to the door, lest he get chilled when he went back outside. “Is there a problem?”

“Yes. Mine, not yours...yet.”

He lifted a brow, stared at Cole’s grin. “I’m not sure I like the word you tacked onto the end of that sentence.”

His boss’s grin widened. “Ellen Hall came to see Sadie today. She passed on a request from Willa. She needs pine boughs for decorating the church and asked if Townsend Timber would provide them.”

He stuffed his hat into his pocket and rubbed his gloved hands together to create some warmth. “We’re behind in our lumbering because of the snow.”

“Yes. I mentioned that.”

He studied Cole’s face, let a grin tug his lips aslant. “Sadie cajoled you into it, did she?” He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m thinking it didn’t take much coaxing on her part.”

Cole’s grin matched his. “I collapsed like a felled tree. As did Manning. We’ve donated a wagonload of boughs. And more if needed.”

There was something in Cole’s voice.... Daniel tugged off a glove to scrub his hand across the back of his neck. “Ah, yes. The ‘yet.’ Let me guess.... I’m elected to deliver the boughs?”

“That would be correct.” Cole’s face sobered. “After you’ve cut them.”

He raised his brows.

“I know.” Cole settled into his chair. “I’d like to give you a man to help you, Daniel, but I can’t spare a logger while we’re so far behind.”

He nodded, tugged his glove back on and pulled his hat from his pocket. “You can’t spare your teamster either. It won’t help any to cut logs if you’ve no one to haul them here to the mill. Fortunately, there’s a full moon at present, and with it shining on the snow, it’s as bright as day. I’ll down a couple of small pine and hemlock tonight, fill the pung with the boughs and deliver them after I’m through hauling logs tomorrow.”

“That’s a lot of extra work for no pay, Daniel. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me—thank your wife.” He grinned and pulled his hat on, tugged the rolled brim down to cover the tops of his ears. “I never could withstand Quick Stuff’s coaxing either.”

* * *

Ellen glanced at her mother studying the fashions in the new Godey’s Lady’s Magazine she’d received, drew breath to speak, then exhaled and turned back to the fire. She’d started to ask her mother if she would donate trims left over from dress orders at least a dozen times since dinner and then stopped. It would be best to wait a few days, until the costumes were finished but for the final touches. Coward. She frowned at her lack of will and pulled her wrap closer about her bare shoulders. The silk gown she’d donned before her parents came home was stylish but chilly.

“You seem restless tonight, Ellen. I hope you’re not feeling adrift because of the lack of suitable society in Pinewood.”

“No, Mother, I’ve been spending time visiting with Willa. And I had Asa drive me out to see Sadie today. I’m only...thinking.”

“You took the cutter out to Butternut Hill in this weather?” Her mother gave her an astounded look. “Whatever for?”

She drew breath to explain about the pine boughs for the church, then swallowed back her words. “I wanted to see Sadie.”

Her father lowered his book and peered up at her. She held still, determined not to fidget beneath his penetrating gaze. Her answer had been the truth—as far as it went.

“Are you any closer to a decision as to which gentleman you will accept as your husband?”

“No, Father.” She’d been so busy she hadn’t even thought about her beaux today. Only Daniel. But that was natural, since he’d been present—and annoying. She leaned down and added a piece of log to the fire lest her father read the truth in her expression, and she read disapproval in his as a consequence.

“Well, you tend to what your mother and I say. Don’t allow your old friends to talk you into accepting less than you can achieve in life by a good marriage.”

“Indeed.” Her mother looked up at her, a hint of a frown on her face. “Willa, Callie and Sadie have done quite well for themselves considering they have settled for village life. But we have groomed you for the greater, more important things of high society, Ellen. You mustn’t forget that. Now go and cream your hands. And don’t handle any more rough wood, dear. You want your appearance to be perfect when Mr. Lodge and Mr. Cuthbert arrive.”

* * *

Suitable society. Ellen rubbed cream into her face and hands, swirled her silk-and-lace dressing gown on over her nightdress and stepped to her bedroom window. Cold air seeped from beneath the hems of the winter drapes her mother had fashioned from a woven bed coverlet and chilled her slippered feet. She drew her dressing gown close and pushed one drape aside far enough to look out. Large snowflakes fell through the moonlight that shone on the rutted ribbon of Oak Street and glistened on the snow-covered ground across the way.