He'd appeared in the doorway of his grand home, late afternoon sunlight at his back and a laugh in his voice. Every daydream she'd ever conjured about a handsome man settled directly on his head as she peered around the corner from behind a chair where she knelt, cleaning up a broken vase Mrs. Morgan had thrown in a fit of temper.
That woman lived with as much of an unpredictable nature as Kizzie's daddy, and Mrs. Morgan didn't even take whiskey.
It hadn't taken long at all for Charles to notice Kizzie among the servants, finding her in various places throughout the house. First complimenting, then encouraging her to talk, then kissing her … and by slow degrees, she gave herself, heart and all, to him.
The small size of the Chappells’ house kept the little family nearly on top of each other when they were all home together, but the love between the five of them came through in their interactions. Joshua held a more quiet, strong presence, teasing Nella and the children in his own way, and Nella fueled the life of the house with her energy and “sass” as she called it.
Kizzie had been known for her own “sass” back home as the fourth young'un of a large family, but somewhere along the last several months, she'd lost her fire. Had it been from her shame? Or the tension circulating under Mrs. Morgan's heavy hand? Or maybe she was afraid if she got too fiery Charles would up and leave her be?
Too much quiet time sent her thoughts in dark places, so once Nella allowed, Kizzie joined in with the chores. As Nella and Ruth washed laundry in the barn, Kizzie cleaned the house. Nothing too taxing, but some simple sweeping or washing dishes, sometimes even helping with the meals, much like back home. And, just like Mama, Nella knew which herbs to use for healing and made up some tea to help with Kizzie's afterpains and aches. She even offered guidance with caring for Charlie, just as Kizzie's mama would have done.
It was a mercy Kizzie didn't deserve after the trouble she'd caused the Chappells, but her options proved incredibly small at the moment.
Kizzie's throat tightened as she scrubbed an iron pan, the renewed ache of her last view of her parents slicing through her chest. When the drink wore off, her daddy would regret his actions, but he'd never go back on them. ’Twasn't the way of mountain men.
Their word hardened like steel, even if their hearts softened.
She couldn't return home.
Her attention lowered to the sleeping babe at her chest, and she firmed her will against the weakening grief. Someone else relied on her now, and she needed to think about him. And the future.
Though she wasn't too sure what that future looked like.
She couldn't stay with the Chappells forever.
If only Charles would arrive, she'd have a better idea. He'd sent her home to be with family during the final stages of her pregnancy, but since home hadn't taken her—her throat tightened at the flicker of another memory—surely, Charles would do right by them.
The front door opened, and a rush of heat rose from her stomach into her face.
Could it finally be Charles?
A stomping sound accompanied the doors creaking, and her pulse slowed.
Not yet.
Isaac Chappell emerged from around the corner, book and papers in hand. With a heavy sigh, he crashed down into a chair at the little kitchen table, his books colliding with the wood. Thankfully, not loud enough to wake Charlie, though, if what Nella said about babies feeding often was true, her little one was due to wake soon.
“What's got you all flustered, Isaac Chappell?”
“Cipherin’.” The boy raised dark weary eyes and pushed a book across the table towards her. “It's gonna kill me dead.”
Kizzie twisted her lips tight to keep from grinning. “I ain't never heard tell of addition and subtraction leading to someone's demise, but I know it's caused my little brother, Isom, a heap of trouble.”
“Ain't nobody can learn it. If we was meant to need more than ten fingers for countin’, why didn't God give us more?”
“ ’Cause I reckon He figured you'd be able to do without them fingers for countin’ once you learned how to use your mind for it.” Kizzie slid into the chair next to him and drew the book close. “I always liked math in school. Not too bad at it either.”
“You like it?” Isaac looked at her as if she'd grown an antler from her head.
“Well enough.” She leaned toward him, offering a smile. “We could study on it together, if you want?”
He raised a doubtful brow, his frown deepening before he heaved out a hefty, “All right.”
Kizzie moved closer, careful not to squish little Charlie, and asked Isaac to point out his current assignment.
“Ah, division.” Kizzie nodded at the place he marked. “It can be a little tricky, and that's a fact.”
“Don't make no sense a'tall.” His voiced raised in protest. “Numbers cain't just disappear, no matter how you put ’em on the page.”
