Chapter Four
"Tempy, we're hungry!" Jessica exclaimed.
"Well I'm baking the cake just as quickly as I can," Temperance assured the impatient girl. She glanced at the table and saw Charlotte poised with a spoon above the bowl of butter cream icing Temperance had spent a half of an hour making. "Don't you dare, Char," she warned.
The girl gave a guilty grin, dropped the spoon and ran out of the cabin with a laugh.
"Do you think mama will like the cake we baked her?" Jessica inquired, tapping her toes impatiently as she stared at the cook stove.
"Well it is her birthday," Temperance replied with a grin. She tweaked the girl's nose, "Everyone must have a cake on their birthday. Now why don't you go on out and help mama hang her laundry? She shouldn't have to work so hard today."
Temperance woke from her dreams of the past and glanced around the empty cabin. A quick check of the clock told her it was seven in the morning. Sunlight was shining in through the window and Temperance moved her face into the glow--allowing it to warm her.
She'd been alone here for a week. She should have gone to town by now but she simply couldn't bring herself to leave.... This was home and all her memories were here. She could remember reading to Jessica and Charlotte late at night in their loft bed. She could remember singing songs with mama in front of the fire. She could remember mama teaching her how to knit and sew as they talked about life long after the younger girls had gone to bed.
Tears slipped down Temperance's cheeks. She wanted her family back.
Temperance rose from the couch and swiped the backs of her hands across her cheeks to dry them. Her dream of cakes had made her hungry and so she decided to bake one--everyone must have a cake on their birthday.
Today Temperance turned sixteen. Normally her birthday would have meant a new dress hand sewn by mama, cards made by Jessica and Charlotte and a cake with her name written across it. Her family would have sung to her and pampered her all day.... But not this year.
She went into the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards gathering all she needed for a cake. She was just tying on her apron when she heard a noise outside... it had sounded like hoof beats.
A visitor?
Temperance rushed to the window and glanced outside. There was a man. He hopped off the horse and held the reins loosely in his hands. "Hello the house!" he called out.
Temperance glanced at the door and realized she hadn't locked it. The man would probably let himself in if she didn't do it for him. It wasn't unusual for someone passing through to end up here--her mama had always been quick to help strangers. She would say that at some point in our lives we all need help and we need to aide one another.
At least this way Temperance may have someone to share her birthday cake with. She went to the door and opened it, "Hello, sir."
The man's gaze fell on her hard. His eyes swept her up and down. Temperance shifted uneasily. He was an ugly man and very dirty. His cold smile revealed rotten teeth beneath a scraggly brown mustache and his pockmarked face was covered in a patchy beard. He had eyes so dark they were nearly black as they scanned her. He was heavy around the middle beneath his sweat stained and wrinkled clothing.
"Well hello there, miss. Are your parents home?"
Despite his looks, his voice sounded nice and polite enough. Temperance had always been taught not to judge a book by its cover and so she offered a friendly smile as she shook her head. "A sickness took my family, sir. You may not want to come in here--it may still linger."
The man shrugged and looped his horse's reins over the porch banister, "If you can provide me with a good meal and a soft place to sit, I'm willing to take my chances. It's been quite a few days since I've had either one."
Temperance chewed her lip. Something about this man seemed off--but it might have simply been because she had been here alone for so long. She pointed in the general direction of town, "It's only a three hour ride to town, sir, and they'll have a much better selection of food I'm sure."
He laid a hand over his soft middle. "Please miss, I don't mean you any harm at all. I don't have any money to pay for a meal in town. My name is Yancy Bates and I just got done fighting in that terrible war, miss. I'm on my way home but still have a good three weeks on a horse to get there. Please let me come on in and get a good meal in me and maybe put some food in my rucksack. I'd be more than happy to do any work around here that needs done in return for the food."
"What side?" Temperance whispered.
Yancy frowned, "Pardon?"
"Which side did you fight for?"
Yancy's fingers danced across Robert's jacket which Temperance had airing out on the porch banister, "The Union, Miss. I fought for the true America."
Temperance sighed. She couldn't deny the man a meal. He might have been someone that had helped her father and brothers at some point and God would not appreciate her not returning such a favor.
"Come on in then and I'll cook you something to eat. I was just about to bake a cake."
"Oh," he smiled as he walked toward the steps. "What's the occasion?"
"My birthday," Temperance replied, stepping into the house. "I am sixteen today."
The man followed her in and closed the door behind him, "Well, ain't that something."
***
Yancy turned out to be a pleasant enough house guest. He had fed the animals for her and brought in some wood from outside while she cooked. After a good meal he had gone out and cleaned the barn and then he had sang her an off key rendition of 'Happy Birthday' which had made her laugh before they'd eaten the cake she had baked.
They had found themselves out on the porch talking for hours afterward. Yancy had listened to her carry on about the loss of her father and brothers, the loss of Robert and then the loss of her mother and sisters. He had seemed truly sad for her. Temperance hadn't realized just how lonely she had been until company had arrived.
Yancy ended up staying for supper as well and then he looked at the clock, "I should probably head on," he noted.
Temperance didn't want him to leave. She didn't want to go back to being alone just yet. She rose from her chair, "Why don't you stay here for the night? You can sleep on the sofa--I have extra pillows and blankets. It's nearly dark and surely you'd be more comfortable on the sofa than the hard ground. Tomorrow I have to be heading into town since supplies are getting short and you can accompany me... I've been worried about making the trip alone."
Yancy nodded, "You're right about it sounding more comfortable, miss, and I'd hate to have something happen to you making that trip alone--" he paused, "Are you sure you don't mind me staying the night? I don't want to overstay my welcome..."
"I'm sure."
Temperance gave him blankets and a pillow before she bid him goodnight and went into her mother's old room. She donned her nightdress and slid between the sheets, thankful that she hadn't spent her birthday alone--the company of a stranger was still better than that horrible silence. Then again he wasn't a stranger any longer. He was now a friend.
Life seemed to enjoy throwing her curves these days but she was taking them all in stride just as her mother had always taught her to. And now she'd learned that just because someone looked unpleasant that didn't mean they truly were unpleasant. Yancy had proved to be a good man.
Temperance was smiling for the first time in a long time as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Hours later, a sudden movement pulled Temperance from her slumber. Opening her eyes and straining to peer through the darkness, Temperance saw dark eyes glittering as they leered at her.
"Yancy?" she whispered, the words sounding small and insignificant in the oppressive darkness. What was he doing in the room? Was something wrong?
She heard him let out a chuckle which made her blood run cold. Opening her mouth to speak again, Temperance was quickly silenced when one of his large dirty hands clamped over her lips while the other closed around her throat.
"You're going to make me fortune, pretty girl," he growled as he lowered his face toward hers and sniffed at her hair. He let out a groan, "Damn, you smell good."
Tears leaked from the corners of Temperance's eyes. Her heart cried out with desperation. Why was her friend doing this to her? His face was hard and Temperance realized that she had indeed misjudged him. Her first instincts had been correct. Yancy was a bad man.