California Romance (63 page)

Ellie clasped her hands around his arm and gazed into his face. She looked stricken. “I want to marry you, but until God lets me know my work here is done, I can’t.”

Josh stared down into her troubled face. The sincerity in her voice could not be ignored. “I can’t argue with what you feel God is telling you to do, Ellie. Just make sure you’re hearing Him right.” Josh bent and kissed her upturned lips, then released her and left the room.

Ellie watched Josh go. She longed to rush after him and erase the bitter disappointment in his eyes. She could not, so she flew to her room for refuge. Her respite, however, was short lived. Just before dinner, Maria appeared.

“The senor from the newspaper is waiting to see you.”

Ellie rebelled. “Tell him I can’t see him.”

Maria shook her head. “He said it is
muy
important.”

“All right.” Ellie smoothed her hair and went back to the library.

The reporter’s sober countenance frightened her. “Miss Sterling, the
Chronicle
received an anonymous message today. I regret bringing it to you, but others may have also received it.” He handed her a sheet of paper.

Bold black words stared up at her:
“Ask the Sierra Songbird about her real father and jailbird brothers.”
The page slipped to the floor. Ellie wanted to flee. Just when she thought herself over the past, a dozen malicious words had brought it all back.

“What do you want me to do with this?” the reporter asked.

An old saying came to mind.
Tell the truth and shame the devil
. “You need to hear and write the truth.” Ellie saw admiration sneak into his watching eyes. “Come back this evening after I have time to talk with the Stanhopes.”

He nodded and left. Ellie sank to the settee. “Lord, I dread telling them, especially Mrs. Stanhope. Well, whatever happens, I’ll be free from the fear of discovery. I just hope it doesn’t cause more trouble for Joshua.” She went to her room and donned her prettiest dress. Somewhat calmed by the knowledge that God was still in control, she went down to dinner. When the meal ended, she quietly said, “I have something to tell you. May we go into the library, please?”

Mrs. Stanhope looked startled. “Of course.” She rose and led the way. With a silent prayer for help, Ellie waited until everyone was seated in the restful room.

“The
Chronicle
received an anonymous message today,” she began. “It said to ask me about my real father and brothers.” She fixed her gaze on Mrs. Stanhope and told the story of Ellie Stoddard who became Ellie Sterling. She spared none of the details, even though they seemed more sordid than ever when related in this luxurious setting. Ellie watched Mrs. Stanhope’s face grow mottled with rage, change to disbelief, soften with compassion, and grow tight-lipped, but the older woman didn’t interrupt.

Ellie ended with, “I’m sorry for the embarrassment this will cause you, but I intend to give the reporter the full story. He’s coming back tonight.” Her self-control broke. Tears dripped. “I wish I’d told you everything before I agreed to come here.”

Mrs. Stanhope turned to Joshua and glared. “Did you know about Ellie’s past?”

A steely look came into his gray eyes. “Yes, but not how bad it really was.”

“And you didn’t see fit to tell me.”

Ellie cringed. Would this cause another rift between mother and son?

Josh’s lips curved into a smile of incredible sweetness. “Stoddard or Sterling, Ellie is the most wonderful girl in the world.”

“Amen,” Edward put in.

“Do be quiet, Edward. This doesn’t concern you.”

To Ellie’s dismay, he began to laugh. “Wake up, Mother. The truth is written all over Josh’s face. Ellie’s going to be my sister, and I couldn’t be happier!”

Mrs. Stanhope pinned Ellie with a stare. “Do you love my son? Has he told your father—Mr. Sterling—that he wants to marry you?”

“Y–yes, but I haven’t said I’d—”

Mrs. Stanhope went into her take-charge mode. “Then I suggest you do so at once. No one will dare cast aspersions on a future Stanhope.” She stood and started toward the door. “Charles, tell the reporter to drop a hint about Joshua and Ellie in his story.” To Ellie’s utter amazement Mrs. Stanhope’s eyes twinkled. Genuine affection lurked in their depths. “This has been a most surprising evening, but I always wanted a daughter. With a little more training, you’ll do nicely, my dear.”

She swept out, leaving Edward cackling like a laying hen and Ellie in a state of shock.

Mr. Stanhope quietly said, “I couldn’t be more pleased, Joshua. Edward, stop laughing and come with me. Your brother and Ellie need to be alone.”

The door closed behind them. Through blinding tears, Ellie saw Joshua coming toward her. The next moment she was safe in his arms.

The next issue of the
Chronicle
carried a story that Ellie considered a masterpiece:

S
CURRILOUS
A
TTEMPT TO
C
LIP
S
IERRA
S
ONGBIRD’S
W
INGS
F
AILS

S
an Francisco took up arms in Ellie’s defense after the scorching
Chronicle
article appeared. Letters to the editor poured in. Then the enterprising reporter tracked down the envelope that brought the anonymous letter.

It was postmarked Madera.

“Amy Talbot probably wrote it,” Josh said. “The
Fresno Expositor
and the
Madera Tribune
both ran the article and mentioned the postmark. Eventually the culprit will be exposed, punishment enough.”

Ellie agreed. She knew only too well how it felt to be the subject of gossip.

The next day, she hid tears and told Josh good-bye. “Your visit was too short.”

“I need to get back to Christ the Way.” Josh brushed away the lone tear Ellie couldn’t hold back. “It’s only a few weeks until Christmas.” He kissed her ring finger. “I’ll have something special for you when you come home.”

“All I want is you.”

Josh’s eyes twinkled. “You already have that!” A quick kiss, and he was gone.

The following morning, Ellie sat by her window and stared out into rain mixed with sleet. Tree branches bent and shivered in the wind. Ellie already missed Josh. Homesickness for the Diamond S and the promontory where she’d spent so many happy hours overwhelmed her. She longed for rolling rangeland and canyons instead of tall buildings and cobblestone streets. For clear, crisp mornings untouched by fog.

Ellie wrapped herself into a colorful shawl Solita had made. The red, white, and emerald green reminded Ellie of Christmas. She closed her eyes and thought of last year’s program at Christ the Way. Everyone had brought gifts to the altar. Not gold, frankincense, or myrrh, but food, clothing, treasured toys, and money—some from those who had little to spare—for a family who had lost their home and possessions to fire.

Ellie hadn’t written even one song since she’d come to San Francisco. Now words tumbled into her mind. She snatched writing materials and let them pour out:

The perfect title came to mind: “Ballad for a King.” Ellie bowed her head. “Lord, You’ve given me the gift of song. I’m trying to use it for You, but I want to do something more to honor Your Son. I just don’t know what.”

“Forgive.”

The word pierced Ellie’s soul. She let tears flow while she took a fresh sheet of paper and wrote:
I forgive you, Pa. Ellie
. She placed it in an envelope that she sealed and addressed. Then she tucked her poem inside her dress to nestle above her heart and ran downstairs.

Warmed by the poem’s presence, Ellie buried her letter among the others to be posted. Her heart pumped with joy. “Lord, I haven’t felt this clean since I was baptized in the stream on the Diamond S. Pa probably won’t reply, but I’m free.” She danced upstairs and into her room.

Mrs. Stanhope sat by the window. Her hands nervously pleated and smoothed a fold of her costly skirt. “Ellie, I have to tell you something.”

Dread shot through Ellie. “Is Josh hurt?”

“No, it’s something else. Would it break your heart to spend Christmas here?”

Ellie’s knees gave way. She dropped to the bed. “Why?”

“Governor Markham has asked for a private musicale at our home. It’s your chance of a lifetime.” Mrs. Stanhope sighed. “Unfortunately, the governor and his wife are only free on Christmas Eve.”

Ellie’s dreams for the holidays fled. How could she say no when Mrs. Stan-hope had done so much for her? Ellie had grown to love Joshua’s mother since being welcomed to the family. She’d also seen the older woman slowly become a more understanding person.

“You don’t have to stay.” Josh’s mother rose and patted Ellie’s hand. “Pray about it and do what you feel is right. We won’t hold it against you if you go home as planned.” She frowned. “I’ve known Henry Markham for years and have already told him you might not be available. He should have picked a better time.” She marched out.

Ellie stared after her. The unexpected advice to pray and willingness to leave the decision in Ellie’s hands were more effective than pleading or reminders of duty. “Lord, how will everyone at home feel, especially Joshua?” Her throat constricted. “Besides, if I stay here, I’ll be so disappointed I won’t be able to sing.”

She stood and started for the door, intending to tell Mrs. Stanhope she couldn’t give up her plans. Yet a feeling that more than Governor Markham’s whim hung on her decision stopped her. The tumult in her soul gradually stilled. She bowed her head and whispered through her unhappiness, “I’ll stay.”

“Perhaps you can go home for New Year’s,” Mr. Stanhope said when Ellie announced her decision, but Edward shook his head.

“Sorry, Ellie.” He looked genuinely regretful. “The only time we could reserve the Palace Hotel is on New Year’s Day. I know you sing for more than money, but this performance will bring in an incredible sum. It will also be your largest audience.”