Chapter 3 - One Night by the Fire
Evelyn carried the envelope into the kitchen.
Hazel followed.
The fire had burned low.
“Who wrote this?” Evelyn asked.
Hazel stared at the floor.
“I don’t know.”
“You kept it for three months without asking?”
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“That you wouldn’t come.”
Evelyn opened it.
Inside was one sheet.
Only two sentences had been written.
Miss Mercer, you have been deceived about Silas Rowan.
You would be wise to remain in Ohio.
No signature.
Evelyn looked at Hazel.
“Did your father write this?”
“No.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Papa’s writing is terrible.”
Despite herself, Evelyn almost smiled.
Hazel continued.
“And he didn’t know about you.”
“That leaves a number of possibilities.”
“I wanted to burn it.”
“But you didn’t.”
Hazel shook her head.
“Mama said burning a thing doesn’t make it untrue.”
That sentence belonged to a child who remembered too much.
Evelyn sat.
“Hazel, why did you do this?”
“You know why.”
“No. I know you wanted a woman here. That is not the same thing.”
Hazel’s face closed.
“Go to bed.”
“I’m not tired.”
“You’re twelve.”
“I know.”
“You should be asleep.”
Hazel’s lips pressed together.
“That’s what grown people say when they don’t want children hearing the truth.”
Evelyn stared at her.
There it was.
Not loneliness.
Fear.
Hazel turned away.
“Good night, Miss Mercer.”
“Hazel.”
She stopped.
“What are you afraid will happen to this family?”
Hazel stood motionless.
For several seconds Evelyn thought she would answer.
Instead she whispered, “Ask Papa.”
Then disappeared down the hall.
The following morning was Christmas.
Evelyn woke before sunrise.
The house was silent.
She entered the kitchen and discovered Silas sitting beside the stove with her letters spread across the table.
He looked as though he had not slept.
“You read them all.”
“Yes.”
“Do you regret it?”
He looked at her.
“No.”
Something about that answer warmed her more than the stove.
Silas touched one letter.
“You wrote about your sister.”
“Margaret.”
“She died.”
“Three years ago.”
“And you raised her daughter for six months.”
“Until the child’s father returned from overseas.”
Silas lowered his eyes.
“I didn’t know.”
“You weren’t supposed to.”
He gave a humorless smile.
“Apparently I was supposed to know quite a lot.”
Evelyn sat.
Silas studied her for a moment.
“Why did you answer the advertisement?”
She considered giving him the easy answer.
Instead she chose truth.
“Because the man described in it sounded lonely without sounding helpless.”
Silas’s expression changed.
“Hazel wrote that.”
“I know.”
“And you still think it?”
“I haven’t decided.”
A noise came from the hallway.
Then another.
Five children appeared.
Bennett looked toward the fireplace.
“No stockings.”
Silas stood immediately.
Thomas said quickly, “It’s fine.”
“No.”
Silas put on his coat.
Hazel frowned.
“Where are you going?”
“To the root cellar.”
Ten minutes later he returned carrying a sack.
Inside were five apples, a handful of walnuts and several peppermint sticks reserved for trading in town.
Not oranges.
Not their mother’s Christmas.
But something.
Silas found socks from the wash basket and hung them near the stove.
The children watched.
Evelyn quietly added pieces of preserved pear wrapped in cloth.
Clara gasped when she discovered hers.
Bennett announced that this was “almost a proper Christmas.”
Hazel cried when she thought nobody was watching.
Evelyn watched anyway.
Later they made star cookies.
Silas burned the first tray.
Thomas laughed so violently he nearly fell from his chair.
For two hours the house sounded alive.
Then someone knocked.
Every Rowan child went silent.
Silas’s face changed immediately.
He opened the door.
A tall man stood outside in a gray coat.
“Morning, Rowan.”
Silas did not invite him in.
“Caleb.”
Evelyn watched from the kitchen.
The stranger glanced past Silas and saw her.
His eyebrows rose.
“So she came.”
Hazel went pale.
Evelyn noticed.
Silas did too.
“What does that mean?”
Caleb smiled faintly.
“Nothing.”
“You knew about her?”
Hazel whispered, “Papa—”
Silas turned toward her.
“Hazel?”
Caleb sighed.
“Well. Seems Christmas has finally become interesting.”
Silas stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind him.
Evelyn moved toward Hazel.
“Who is he?”
Hazel’s hands trembled.
“Caleb Voss.”
“And?”
“He owns the land north of us.”
Thomas muttered, “He wants ours too.”
Hazel shot him a look.
Evelyn’s unease deepened.
“Why?”
Hazel’s answer came barely above a whisper.
“Because Papa owes him money.”
Now Evelyn understood the neglected house.
The repaired barn.
The fear.
Hazel had not ordered a bride because she wanted somebody to cook.
She had done it because she believed her family was collapsing.
And she had somehow decided a stranger could save it.
Outside, voices rose.
Then Silas came back inside.
His face was hard.
“Children, go upstairs.”
Nobody moved.
“Now.”
They obeyed.
Evelyn remained.
Silas looked at her.
“You should take the next train east.”
“Because of Caleb Voss?”
“Because this ranch may not belong to us by spring.”
There it was.
The truth Hazel had been too frightened to say.
May you like
And judging by Silas’s expression, it was only the beginning.
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