"Yes. I know," she said. Then she anxiously waited until she had her reins tied to a bridle post only a few feet away from the front door of the house. Her eyes widened when the door swung open revealing a much smaller Mama than she remembered having left. With her hair tied in a tight bun on top of her head, and with the wrinkles of her face her Mama headed for Eugenia, wiping her hands on an apron, her eyes searching through the semidarkness.
"Eugenia, be that you?" her Mama said, then burst into tears, running with outstretched arms in Eugenia's direction.
"Mama. Oh, Mama," Eugenia said, jumping from her horse, grabbing her Mama into her arms. She hugged her so hard she feared that she might break a rib of this fragile woman clutching onto her.
Then her Mama pulled away from her embrace and studied Eugenia closely. It hurt Eugenia so, seeing the hollowness of her Mamas eyes and the thinness of her body. It was as though she hadn't eaten regularly… in months.
"We thought you be dead, daughter," her Mama said, twisting the tail of her apron between her fingers. Then her Mama's eyes began to mist once again. "Your Papa, he's dead."
Eugenia swallowed hard. "I know, Mama," she whispered, taking her Mama's hands in hers. They felt so intricately fragile, like the fallen leaves of autumn whose veins had hardened and were ready to snap. "I saw the grave. When did it… ?"
She didn't get to complete her question. A presence at the front doorway took her attention.
Even her breath.
"Elizabeth? Is that you?" she asked, feeling a sudden eerieness pass over her. For a brief moment she thought it was Dawn having returned from the dead. But it was Elizabeth, with her black hair cascading across her shoulders, settling around a small, delicate bosom. In the darkness, Eugenia couldn't make out Elizabeth's facial features, but she knew that Elizabeth was probably even more beautiful than before, since she would have matured into womanhood by now.
"Sister Eugenia?" Elizabeth said, then threw the door open so widely it banged against the house. She rushed to Eugenia and threw her arms around her, crying loudly. "Be ye not dead after all? Be ye really here?"
Eugenia cupped Elizabeth's face in her hands, looking downward, marveling at her younger sister's innocent beauty.
"Yes. I'm truly here," she answered, then remembered Drew. She looked toward him and saw the look that all men have when stunned by the presence of a new, lovely lady. Jealousy began to ease into Eugenia's brain as she saw Elizabeth's gaze also settle on Drew. It was as though these four blue eyes, Drew's and Elizabeth's, had become magnets, pulling these two strangers into another world that only included the two of them.
It hadn't even occurred to Eugenia until now that Elizabeth would still, more than likely, be a virgin, untouched by man. And now? To have such a man as Drew suddenly handed to her, by Eugenia herself?
I'm being foolish. Eugenia laughed to herself. Drew loves me. He's only stunned for the moment by Elizabeth's beauty. It will pass. He loves me.
She took Drew's hand in hers, eyeing him quickly when she felt a trembling, then squeezing it as she began her introductions.
"Mama, Elizabeth, I'd like for you to meet my fiance. Drew Jamieson. Drew? My Mama and baby sister Elizabeth."
With his free hand, Drew tipped his hat, smiling. "So pleased to make your acquaintance, ma'am," he said, smiling toward Eugenia's Mama. Then his gaze fell upon Elizabeth and Eugenia could see the look of want as he smiled knowingly at Elizabeth and spoke even more softly, "And mighty glad to make your acquaintance, ma'am."
Elizabeth smiled widely and fluttered her thick lashes back at him as she did a neat curtsy, then gathered her cotton frock up into her arms, and hurried back inside the house.
Eugenia's Mama laughed weakly. "She be a mite bashful, Mr. Jamieson," she said. "No men 'round to charm her like you jist did."
"Please call me Drew, ma'am," Drew said warmly, his eyes searching through the darkness, following the path that Elizabeth had made in the high dry weeds around the porch steps.
"And call me Jessie," Eugenia's Mama said, going to Drew, tucking her arm through his. "And now. Some biscuits and sorghum to warm your innards." She turned her head in Eugenia's direction. "Come along, daughter. Elizabeth probably be fixin' you and your feller a place at the table."
Eugenia stood in silence for a short while, staring all around her. There was such a calm in the air now.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-two
Even though it was only forty degrees, Eugenia still had perspiration to wipe from her brow. She pulled the tail of her flannel shirt up and swiped it across her forehead, stopping to assess what she had accomplished this day. Mound after mound of dirt lay below her, with small piles of potatoes lying beside each. She was glad to have been able to find a few that hadn't yet rotted in the ground since her Papa's death two months ago. The entire summer he had lain ill after having a sudden heart attack from working so hard to get the garden planted for the fall's canning.
Mama and Elizabeth had pulled as many green beans, peas, peppers, and cucumbers from the vines as they had been able to manage. But the potatoes and carrots had been left for the groundhogs. With Elizabeth being so frail, Mama hadn't let her work in the sunshine for very long. And with Mama being so weak from her own kidney ailment everything had been let go. Even the cellar was almost empty of stored garden vegetables. It was so unlike her Mama to let this happen, but she hadn't had Papa there to push her onward, to remind her how important it was for survival through the long, cold winter of Colorado. Eugenia set her jaw, not understanding her Mama. She hadn't ever thought her to be dumb, but it was apparent that the only one in the family who had had any common sense, besides Eugenia herself, was her Papa. And now he was gone. And her Mama and Elizabeth needed help.
Eugenia had talked Drew into staying on at the homestead until her Mama learned how to fend for herself, and until Mama made Elizabeth do her share of the work. Yes, Elizabeth was frail, but she had
been made frail by being catered to by both Mama and Papa. They had made her so. Now maybe Eugenia could make Elizabeth develop a sense of responsibility of her own so Eugenia and Drew could move on to Colorado Springs, get married, and lead a life of their own.
Looking toward what was left in the wheat field blowing in the breeze, intermingling with stiff, dried weeds, Eugenia knew that someone had to take care of that chore. And the cow? She still had it to milk before calling it a day. She had hoped Drew would help her get done faster, but he had said that he was going to ride into the closest town and get some badly needed supplies. And when Elizabeth had begged to go along, Eugenia had nodded a silent okay. She had even thought the buggy ride might put some color back into Elizabeth's cheeks, get her ready for the tough days of winter ahead and make her at least look healthier. But when Eugenia watched Drew and Elizabeth leave together, sitting side by side in the carriage, a slow ache began to creep through her, especially as she listened to the sweet, low laughter of Elizabeth as they drove farther and farther away from where she stood watching.
Looking toward the stable, Eugenia wasn't sure if they had returned yet. She had been so absorbed in her digging she had failed to watch for their return. But surely they hadn't. She would have heard the wheels of the buggy, that familiar squeak that the buggy had made ever since she had been a small child. It had become a joke to Papa—how he would oil the wheels over and over again and the wheels would still make a noise that would put one's nerves on edge. No, surely she would have heard its return.