And that was likely true.
A girl so young shouldn't have to bear such weight on those small shoulders. She should be snuggled in a blanket, drinking warm chocolate, and laughing at silly jokes.
They might not get her to laugh at the moment, but maybe he could help with the rest. Naomi needed to stay with her—the poor thing shouldn't be left to feel like she was alone, even for a minute.
Meanwhile, Lillian stood against the wall, watching Dinah examine the grandmother's arm. Eric decided to enlist her help with a little project.
CHAPTER 17
Eric caught Lillian’s attention and motioned for her to meet him in the kitchen area. As he shared his plan, her eyes lit. "Yes!" She managed to keep her excitement to a loud whisper.
She pointed up the ladder to the loft. "There's a dressing robe on the bed up there that's the softest flannel. If you'll get that, I'll make the chocolate. And she might like the cinnamon cookies too."
The waif needed more than cookies, but this might be a good start to help her feel at ease among strangers.
The ladder to the loft reminded him of the one they’d had in the barn back in Scottsville. He and his best friend, Nathan, used to climb to the loft and swing out on a rope tied to a rafter. They'd land on the wall of a stall, then swing back to the loft.
Harvey hated when they did that, as he was two years younger and too scared to swing from so high up. The summer he finally gathered the courage to take the leap was the season everything changed.
Their ridiculous adventure up the mountain they'd been warned not to play on.
The rockslide.
Nathan pinned under the boulders.
The panic to free him. To go get someone big enough to move the rocks.
The way his best friend screamed in pain, over and over and over.
Eric squeezed his eyes shut against those screams and clung to the ladder, doing his best to slow his breathing.
He was a grown man now. Not a terrified boy running for help.
The loft was large and had several single-person beds placed along the length of it. Lillian's was easy to spot, for girls’ clothes were scattered all around the floor near it. Not too different than his own room when he was a lad. He didn't let himself examine any garments closely, just grabbed the wad of red flannel draped across the mattress tick before he moved back to the ladder.
By the time he reached the ground floor, Lillian already had a mug of chocolate and a plate of cookies ready to deliver to Anna.
Naomi was watching them, a smile softening the corners of her mouth as he and Lillian approached.
She bent to speak quietly to Anna. "Look, I see Mister Eric and Lillian have a special treat for you."
The girl still wore her coat and boots. She allowed Naomi to help her remove the threadbare woolen garment and slip her arms into the warm flannel robe.
"Now,” Naomi said, “you can drink warm chocolate and eat every one of those cookies." Lillian had placed three on the plate, enough for a grown man—far more than a child should be able to eat.
But who knew when this child had last eaten?
Anna's focus shifted from her grandmother to the fare before her, and she accepted the mug and a cookie with ahungry gaze. She downed half the mug in a few gulps, and swallowed half the cookie almost without chewing.
Naomi began to remove Anna’s boots, speaking softly as she worked. "Lillian, bring her a pair of your wool stockings, would you, dear?" She looked to Eric. "Could you sit with her for a few minutes? I need to start a stew going. I'm sure Dinah will want the broth."
He eased into the chair Naomi had vacated, and though it felt foreign to pull a child he didn't know close, Anna sank against his side as if they'd been friends for years. She still munched a cookie—her last—and was peering into her empty cup. "Chocolate is my favorite drink.” Her voice was low, barely audible compared to Dinah and the rest of the adults speaking over her grandmother just a few feet away. “It's been ages since I've had it though."
Eric gave her a little squeeze. She'd spoken without being prompted. Did he dare press for more? Maybe better to simply chat with her. Help her feel safe. " Chocolate is my favorite too. Miss Naomi makes the best, and she serves it often."
Anna licked the last of the cookie from her fingers—dirty fingers, but that mattered little just now—and then her gaze shifted back to her grandmother. A quiet tension settled over her again. He couldn't let her fall back into that worry, so he scrambled for something to say. "Did your Gamma make you warm chocolate?"
"Yes, sir." Her eyes were still locked on the figure lying on the cot. "She had Cook bring it when it snowed. She said it warms the heart."
