Ellery's Eden (Tales From Biders Clump Book 12)
Danni Roan
Ellery’s Eden
Tales from Biders Clump
Danni Roan
After two long months of waiting Polly and George Olson's oldest son returns to Biders Clump but he's not the man they once knew. Having lost his wife, Ellery returns home where he knows his children will be well cared for while he checks out of life. Heartbroken and overcome by grief, he hides away from the rest of the world unable to even care for his own little ones.
Ernestine Haven is looking for a new job as a governess but when she receives a letter offering her a place at a boarding house in Wyoming, she knows there is more to the simple words than meets the eye. Does she have the strength to take the job and provide for the four children who must be so lost and alone? Will going to Biders Clump prove the answer to her prayers or will she once more be forced to leave behind little ones she has grown to love. Taking the chance that she will find real joy out west, Ernie accepts the job but will it prove too much for her soft heart to handle or will it give her the hope and home she has always wanted?
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Copyright © 2020 by Danni Roan. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental or used fictitiously.
Cover design by Erin Dameron Hill/ EDH Graphics. FIRST EDITION https://authordanniroan.com
Chapter 1
Polly Esther Olson looked at the watch pinned to her blouse for the tenth time that morning. The sun was barely over the horizon, but she had been up for hours, cleaning, dusting, and organizing her home in anticipation.
“You’d think the train would be here by now,” she mused running her dusting rag over the glass-fronted bookcase by the door one more time. “Is it running late?” She peered toward the front door, listening carefully for footsteps.
“You’re just impatient Polly,” Rebecca Gatlin smiled as she fluffed the pillows on the settee in the parlor across the hall. “They’ll be here and wishing it sooner won’t hurry them along.”
Polly sighed shaking her head of white hair and making the loose top knot of white gold hair waggle. “It seems years since we received Ellery’s letter,” the old woman said looking toward the door once more, as she turned the dust rag in her hands. “We haven’t had a word in over a month, and so much has happened this year.”
Rebecca tucked a strand of brown-gold hair behind her ear and walked to her friend and employer taking her hand. “I know you’re worried Polly,” she said her blue eyes full of compassion. “Soon your son will be here where you can hug him tight and find out what happened.”
Polly nodded pulling the younger woman into a hug. “I’m sure glad you came to join us here at the Boarding House. You have been a blessing to all of Biders Clump, especially me, George, and Grady,” she added with a grin.
Becky smiled thinking of the town’s schoolteacher who she had married two years earlier. “I’m blessed in so many ways,” she said. “Now stop fretting. They’ll be here. George is already at the station to greet them and bring their luggage.”
Polly nodded knowing Becky was right, but her heart ached to see her oldest son, to look into his eyes and know how he was holding up after the death of his wife. His single letter during the harsh winter had been a shock, and she needed to touch him, to know he was whole and well after the tragic loss of his beloved.
The sound of a heavy wheeled cart clattering down the boardwalk made Polly jump, and she hurried to open the door as a bark-haired man, his hazel eyes hard and weary stepped into the house, a little girl nestled in the crook of his arm.
“Ellery!” Polly exclaimed raising her arms to pull her oldest son close, but the younger man only slipped his two-year-old daughter into her grasp with a grunt.
“Mother,” he intoned with a nod, settling the babe in her arms. “I’m going to my room,” he continued. “I’m tired after the trip.”
Polly gaped as the tall thin figure of her son trudged up the stairs to the floor above without a backward glance while three more children poured through the door followed by her bewildered looking husband, George Olson.
“Grandma!” a girl of nearly eleven chimed brushing her long blonde locks over one shoulder and rushing to wrap her arms around Polly’s waist. “I’m so glad we’re here,” the child sniffed burying her face in Polly’s skirt.
“Grandma,” a boy of six, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes, barreled into her next, a younger boy close on his heels.
“My dear ones,” Polly sniffed back tears as she hugged the children close, willing as much love and hope into her soul as she could muster.
George Olson looked at his wife, now wrapped in the arms of all four grandchildren, his brown eyes full of sorrow, confusion, and hurt.
“He barely said a word,” George whispered, stepping close. “Just come off the train and started this way. I grabbed the bags and the kids and followed quick as I could.”
Polly nodded, her heart breaking for the pain, anger, and depression that seemed to hang in the air after her son’s departure even as the baby began to cry.
***
“Why don’t you children come with me,” Rebecca asked from where she had drifted down the hall. “I’ll take her Polly,” she added lifting the crying baby from Polly’s arms. We have cookies in the kitchen or oatmeal with apples, brown sugar and butter if you’re really hungry,” her smile was welcoming.
“Who are you?” the girl with the spun gold hair turned blinking up at Becky with dark-green suspicious, eyes.
“I’m Becky Gatlin,” the younger woman said patiently. “I’m very glad you are all here.”
“I want cookies,” the youngest boy said reaching out and taking Becky’s hand as he tipped his face up at the woman.
“Georgie, you can’t go off with strangers,” the girl said. “Don’t you know anything?”
The boy looked up at Becky, his green eyes questioning. “Are you a stranger?” he asked his little face full of innocence.
“This is Becky Gatlin,” Polly said, finally finding her voice, as Rebecca soothed the baby. “She is my friend and helps your grandpa and me around the house. She is not a stranger Alyssa.”
“Oh,” the girl said, once again brushing her hair off her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude,” she finished offering an awkward curtsey.
“You weren’t rude at all,” Becky spoke smiling at the girl. “You were looking out for you brother, but I’m sure you could all use a good breakfast.”
Alyssa nodded grabbing her other brother by the sleeve. �
�Come on Mark. If Grandma says it’s fine, we might as well eat. We didn’t have much on the train.”
“Good, ‘cause I’m hungry,” the boy grinned, “but what will Sophie eat?”
Polly watched as her grandchildren followed Becky down the long hallway to the kitchen at the back of the house then turned falling into George’s arms as tears poured down her face. “What do we do George?” she asked as he held her tight patting her back. “Ellery isn’t himself at all. You could see it in his eyes.”
“He needs time honey,” George drawled. “All we can do is love him and the kids and wait. Time is the only thing that helps to ease these pains.”
Polly stood up sniffing then pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve, drying her eyes. “You’re right of course,” she agreed. “I didn’t know what to expect, but I’ve never seen him like this before.”
“I’m just glad he came home where we can help him,” George sighed. “Now you go help Becky with the children, and I’ll get their gear stowed upstairs. Maybe Ell will come out when supper is ready.”
Polly nodded and then smiled a bit when George pecked her on the cheek. They had been married forty years and knew that no matter what happened they could get through it together with a good dose of understanding and a load of prayer.
***
Ellery flopped onto the big bed in his old room running trembling hands through his dark hair and closed his eyes trying to shut out the world. He didn’t want to think, didn’t want to remember. His children were safe with his parents now. He had gotten them all here, and now he could rest.
Rolling onto his stomach Ellery buried his face in the soft pillow feeling the crisp linen brush his skin with a soothing kiss and breathing in the familiar scent of his mother’s wash.
“Just let me sleep,” he whispered into the stillness of the room. “Give me a reprieve from remembering,” he sighed rolling to his back once more and placing his arm over his eyes. He wanted nothing more than for the whole world to go away. It would be better off without him. He had failed his beloved Alice. He had failed to bring her through the illness that had taken such a hold in his home, and now here he was lost and alone in a world too cruel and unkind to give joy.
“God, please let me sleep,” he begged as tears spilled from his weary eyes. He would never be happy again. He would never laugh, or smile, or revel in the antics of his offspring. With Alice gone, the sun had left his world and he drifted, lost and alone on a sea of sorrow, misery, and dread.
Outside a little bird chirruped in a tree, and he started at the sound, wondering how anything could sound happy and cheerful when the world was a dark abyss.
Grabbing the edge of the quilt Ellery rolled himself into the heavy folds of the handmade bedding and tried to clear his mind, but each time he found a second of peace, the same dark thoughts of defeat and anxiety filled him once more, washing over him and pulling him back into despair.
Outside the sun shone on a stark gray world as winter slowly released its hold over the tiny town of Biders Clump. The old familiar sounds of someone washing dishes down stairs, and the clip-clop of horses and creak of a wagon rolling by on the street outside filtered into the room. Far off in the distance the train that had carried him home whistled shrilly headed somewhere new and leaving him to flounder in the darkness of shock and loss.
He was home, back where he had started but what did it matter? Home in Biders Clump, he was without the one thing that made a home: his wife. His perfect Alice who had loved him beyond measure, borne their four children, and laughed life into their household daily, was gone, and he would never be the same.
As the sound of children talking and the shuffle of dishes drifted up the stairs to the room with the dark wood paneling, and shiny brass bed, Ellery fought to find sleep clawing at it like a trapped animal until little by little, his efforts found purchase, and his mind eased slipping into the darkness and sweet release of sleep.
Chapter 2
“George, Ellery didn’t come down to eat,” Polly said later that night as they washed the dishes. The children were in the office getting to know their soon to be teacher, Grady Gatlin, who was busy figuring out what grades they were in while trying to help them feel at home.
George and Polly had agreed that the children should start school as soon as possible to help them settle into life in Biders Clump, but without input from their father, they didn’t know exactly how to carry on. Grady, the burly man with black hair and an easy smile had set them at ease with that task at least.
“Give him time,” George said wiping a dish and stacking it on the counter. “He’s come a long way and is tired.”
Polly looked at her husband, noting the gray hair and the weathered lines around his dark eyes. “I’m worried George,” she said as a tear pooled in her bright blue eyes.
“I’m worried too,” George admitted putting the next plate on the pile and pulling Polly into his arms. “We’ll pray and look after the kids while he pulls himself out of this. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you honey,” he added with a hitch in his voice. “All’s we can do is love him and wait.”
Polly nodded, pulling away with a sniff. “You’re a good man George Olson,” she said placing her still damp hands on his face. “I’d be lost without you for sure. I’ll try to be patient with Ellery.”
George smiled taking the next plate from the sink and wiping it dry. “Maybe once we get a few more guests again, Ellery will feel more inclined to socialize.”
“I hope so,” Polly agreed. “I left a plate on the stove for him if he comes down in the night and wants something.”
George lifted the stack of dishes placing them on a shelf as he heard the children racing down the hall.
“Grandma, Grandpa, I’m starting school tomorrow,” little Georgie piped skidding to a stop in front of his grandparents. The boy was dressed in a dingy nightshirt but smiled with excitement. “Mr. Grady said I could go even if I’m only five, and that there are a few kids my age.”
“That’s wonderful,” Polly said, smoothing the boy’s dark hair. He looked so like his father, but with those deep green eyes like his mother. “You’ll be able to go with your brother and sister each day, and I’ll send a lunch.”
“You’ll have to look after baby Sophia though,” Georgie said seriously. “You’ll take good care of her won’t you? Miss Becky’s rockin’ her to sleep right now.”
“We’ll take good care of her,” George assured his namesake. “Your Grandma and me raised enough of our own kids to be able to manage Sophie,” he chuckled.
“Now you go get washed up and ready for bed,” Polly smiled down at the boy. “We’ll be up to say prayers and tuck you in.”
“Come on Georgie,” Alyssa called from the doorway. “We’ll see if we can remember the prayers that ma taught us.”
Polly looked at George her blue eyes going wide, but he shook his head silencing her as Alyssa walked away with her brothers.
“Don’t borrow trouble,” he said. “We’ll just do our best.”
Polly nodded but her heart ached at the way things had changed for her son and grandchildren. Hadn’t Ellery even been saying prayers with them? It hurt her heart too much to think of it.
Chapter 3
“I ain’t seen Ellery about much George,” Byron commented as he studied the checkerboard with a critical eye. “I thought he’d be helpin’ you around the place a bit and such. I seen the kids comin’ and goin’ ta school but hardly a hint of that boy of yours.”
George shook his head running a hand across his chin as he considered what to say. He hadn’t been over to the livery much since his son had arrived as caring for four children seemed to take up a good deal of his time.
“He’s struggling Byron,” he finally spoke his dark eyes full of sad truth. “He sleeps too much, hardly spends time with his kids, or us for that matter, and Polly is fussin’ terrible on all the more he eats.”
Byron tugged at his white beard, tutt-tutt
ing softly. The old hostler and George’s best friend had hoped that Ellery would start to heal now that he was home. “He’s been here more ‘an a month,” he said moving a red checker to a new spot. “I was hopin’ he would be doing better by now.”
“It’s only been three months since he lost Alice,” George said pushing his hat back on his head. “I can’t imagine how he’s hurtin’ and such.”
“Has Pastor Dalton been over to see him?” Byron snapped his suspenders as George made a distracted move.
“He’s been to the house twice, but Ell won’t see him.”
Again, Byron shook his head, a hank of white hair falling into his eyes. “That ain’t good George. A man can’t live on bread alone and all that.”
“I think he’s mad at God,” George sighed sadly. “I reckon I might be too if I was in his shoes, but sooner or later he’ll have to get over it or be lost for good.”
“We’ve all seen some hard times in our life,” Byron mused matching George’s move, “I ain’t never been married to know Ell’s pain, but I know what it is to love and lose,” he added looking up and meeting his friend’s dark gaze. “What you gonna do?”
“I don’t know,” George admitted. “Pray a lot, worry a little, love on them kids as best we can.”
“I guess we just need to give him time,” Byron agreed. “If you want, I can find a pony for them kids. Might be good for them to have somethin’ of their own to look after.”
George grinned, “I think Alyssa would like that,” he nodded. “That girl is trying to take care of everyone and has forgotten what it means to be a child.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Byron chuckled. “Ain’t a lot of ponies about, but I’m sure I’ll manage something. Most folks in Biders Clump go straight to a horse for their kids. The ranch boys are in the saddle as soon as they sit up straight. Just look at little Andrew riding with his Pa and not even two years old yet.”