Nelson said, stopping Mervin with his hand. “We didn’t mean to scare your horse. Is he a new one?”
“New to me,” she said, forcing a smile.
“Those are the skittish ones,” Nelson said as if he knew all about horses. “Once you get to know them real well, they become much better.”
“You’re a horseman already,” Ella said with a laugh, untying the horse as the boys moved back toward the barn. This much they already knew, one did not stand too close when a buggy took off.
As she left, she waved at the two little bodies with their hands in their pockets and mischief in their eyes.
On the drive home, the conversation with Arlene kept playing in her head. Do I really keep my eyes on the stars and not on the road in front of me? Am I really supposed to consider the bishop’s offer? Can love rise up from the earth to reach the heavens instead of coming down from the sky? Life was to be lived with my hand in Aden’s hand. Another man’s hand is simply unacceptable .
Fourteen
T he house on the corner of Chapman Road came into view. The white walls almost reached out, invited her in, and drew her to itself. Of course, no house made of wood and block could do that—even her own—but the emotion felt good. She was almost home. How quickly this had happened. Surely Da Hah had blessed her already with a refuge.
The troubling thoughts that had followed her from the conversation with Arlene fell away like dandelion fluff in the wind, floating away into nothing. She would think more about Arlene’s words later.
Ella eagerly unhitched the horse and turned him out to the pasture. He seemed glad to be back, kicking up his heels and tearing around the fence line. Ella watched him run. When the horse got to the back pasture, she went inside. With the front door shut behind her, the feeling of refuge now mixed with a sense of loneliness as she confronted the great silence in the rooms.
These rooms should be full of people; full of laughter and joy. These walls should be home to more than just one person. It’s too large, too beautiful, and too majestic to be lived in alone. Somehow I will fill it. Ronda and Joe are a good start. Beyond that it doesn’t matter. Today the answer came, and tomorrow I will receive the grace I will need for the future .
There were bags to be unpacked. Ella wrestled with the suitcase as she dragged it upstairs. How much easier things would be if Eli or Monroe were here to help . With a final wrestle, she made it to the top. She picked the bedroom at the right with its open view of Chapman Road. The room would also look toward the sunrise. What better way to begin each day of the new life before me?
Ella unpacked, deciding the bedroom across the hall would serve as her improvised kitchen since she still wasn’t convinced of Ronda’s basement-living suggestion. Still, to permanently fasten cabinets on these new walls seemed a shame. Instead she would place them on the floor, simply set up along the wall.
Buckets of water could be brought up the stairs and carried back down in the slop container. An occasional splash of dishwater tossed out the window was not beyond reason, especially at night when no one would see her. Ella wondered how many people threw dishwater out of their upstairs windows. She smiled at the thought. It didn’t seem very civilized.
Ella finished unpacking and went back downstairs. There was still time to do a load of wash since it was not yet one o’clock. If she hurried, the clothes would dry by dark. The wash line was strung up from the back porch to the windmill, which stood high in the air. Its tall blade turned slowly in the wind, creaking as water was pulled up and dumped into the holding tank. The horse drank from there. The rest of the water spilled onto the ground and could be diverted in summers to a rain-starved garden. An inch-wide black pipe ran underground to an outside spigot by the house. From there a bucket could be filled in spurts as the
“New to me,” she said, forcing a smile.
“Those are the skittish ones,” Nelson said as if he knew all about horses. “Once you get to know them real well, they become much better.”
“You’re a horseman already,” Ella said with a laugh, untying the horse as the boys moved back toward the barn. This much they already knew, one did not stand too close when a buggy took off.
As she left, she waved at the two little bodies with their hands in their pockets and mischief in their eyes.
On the drive home, the conversation with Arlene kept playing in her head. Do I really keep my eyes on the stars and not on the road in front of me? Am I really supposed to consider the bishop’s offer? Can love rise up from the earth to reach the heavens instead of coming down from the sky? Life was to be lived with my hand in Aden’s hand. Another man’s hand is simply unacceptable .
Fourteen
T he house on the corner of Chapman Road came into view. The white walls almost reached out, invited her in, and drew her to itself. Of course, no house made of wood and block could do that—even her own—but the emotion felt good. She was almost home. How quickly this had happened. Surely Da Hah had blessed her already with a refuge.
The troubling thoughts that had followed her from the conversation with Arlene fell away like dandelion fluff in the wind, floating away into nothing. She would think more about Arlene’s words later.
Ella eagerly unhitched the horse and turned him out to the pasture. He seemed glad to be back, kicking up his heels and tearing around the fence line. Ella watched him run. When the horse got to the back pasture, she went inside. With the front door shut behind her, the feeling of refuge now mixed with a sense of loneliness as she confronted the great silence in the rooms.
These rooms should be full of people; full of laughter and joy. These walls should be home to more than just one person. It’s too large, too beautiful, and too majestic to be lived in alone. Somehow I will fill it. Ronda and Joe are a good start. Beyond that it doesn’t matter. Today the answer came, and tomorrow I will receive the grace I will need for the future .
There were bags to be unpacked. Ella wrestled with the suitcase as she dragged it upstairs. How much easier things would be if Eli or Monroe were here to help . With a final wrestle, she made it to the top. She picked the bedroom at the right with its open view of Chapman Road. The room would also look toward the sunrise. What better way to begin each day of the new life before me?
Ella unpacked, deciding the bedroom across the hall would serve as her improvised kitchen since she still wasn’t convinced of Ronda’s basement-living suggestion. Still, to permanently fasten cabinets on these new walls seemed a shame. Instead she would place them on the floor, simply set up along the wall.
Buckets of water could be brought up the stairs and carried back down in the slop container. An occasional splash of dishwater tossed out the window was not beyond reason, especially at night when no one would see her. Ella wondered how many people threw dishwater out of their upstairs windows. She smiled at the thought. It didn’t seem very civilized.
Ella finished unpacking and went back downstairs. There was still time to do a load of wash since it was not yet one o’clock. If she hurried, the clothes would dry by dark. The wash line was strung up from the back porch to the windmill, which stood high in the air. Its tall blade turned slowly in the wind, creaking as water was pulled up and dumped into the holding tank. The horse drank from there. The rest of the water spilled onto the ground and could be diverted in summers to a rain-starved garden. An inch-wide black pipe ran underground to an outside spigot by the house. From there a bucket could be filled in spurts as the
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