A Home For Emily

Chapter Nine

November

The days have gotten shorter and much cooler. Not as cold as November in Missouri, but cold enough the pre-dawn chill seeps into Emily's bones. She doesn't own a coat and although Austin has offered to let Emily borrow his several times, Emily always braves the chill with the quilt that used to lie on the girls' bed wrapped around her. Between the quilt and her dress, it's enough to keep her from freezing, and besides she's not outside long enough to get really cold. There's always a fire now in the fireplace and as soon as Emily makes it back inside, the heat from the fire quickly warms her.

She's fed the chickens and now she's milking the cows. Because it's still dark outside, she has brought a candle with her, placing it on the ground beside Bessie as she milks her.

Bessie does not like Emily's cold hands and makes her displeasure very clear. She's jittery and it takes longer to milk her than it usually does.

As Emily picks up the two buckets of milk her foot hits the candle, which she has forgotten about, and sends it flying into a pile of hay nearby.

It catches fire immediately.

Panic floods through Emily, seeing how quickly the fire is catching. Sne tries to call out for Austin, but the words catch in her throat. She can't let the fire spread, can't risk harming the cows or heaven forbid, the fire raging out of control and taking the house with it, endangering Austin and the girls. She throws a bucket of milk at the fire and then the second one. The milk hisses as it battles with the fire. It works, or mostly it does, there are still small flames threatening to become bigger ones. Emily pulls off the quilt and uses it to smother what is left of the fire. The heat of the fire sears through the quilt shirt and singes her palms, but finally, the fire is out.

The cows are clearly distressed and the barn reeks of smoke. Emily's worried that the hay still might somehow catch on fire. She opens the barn door wide, hoping the cold air will help cool off the hay.

"What are you doing?" Austin asks, on his way back to the house from tending to their two remaining pigs. "Is that smoke I smell? You're shivering, what happened?"

Austin is already taking off his coat as he approaches Emily.

"The candle—I accidentally kicked it. I forgot it was there. I'm sorry," Emily says. She's shaking, but she's not sure if it's because of the cold or because of fright.

Austin looks toward the barn. He hugs Emily, squeezing her tight. "Here, put on this coat, and let's get you inside." He pulls away from Emily and grabs one of Emily's arms to put the coat on her and notices the palm on Emily's hand. "You're hurt."

Emily looks at the palms of her hands. They are red and small bubbles are beginning to form. "I'm fine," Emily says. "It only stings a little."

Austin slips the coat on Emily. The coat is way too big for Emily, practically swallows her whole, but it smells like Austin, and that somehow eases the leftover tension in Emily's body.

"I'm going to get you inside and then I'll come back out here and check on the cows," Austin says.

"The milk—I threw it on the fire. There won't be any for breakfast." When Emily doesn't start walking right away, because she can't seem to get her scattered mind to focus enough to move her legs, Austin grabs her arm and pulls her toward the house.

"I don't care about the milk. I care about you."

The words warm her more than the coat does. The words seep into Emily's bones. Austin cares about her.

Once inside, Austin guides Emily to the fireplace. "Sit here, I'll be right back."

The girls come into the room, still dressed in nightgowns and hair still tousled.