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beautiful,” his hoarse voice whispered. “She came up for cousin Fred’s wedding as one of the table waiters with some other boy I don’t even remember anymore. Now she’s crossed over before I have. It’s because she was so much better than me.”
    After a few minutes of silence, save for the gentle creak of the rocker, the front door opened, mounds of snow spilling onto the hardwood floor. Ivan entered, bending over to brush the snow with his gloved hands, throwing it outside before carefully shutting the door.
    “The storm’s worse,” he said, taking his heavy coat off. “The girls are all asleep, but, Ella, do you think you could stay with them for the night while I stay here with Daett?”
    “Of course.” Ella rose from her chair and pulled on her coat and shawl.
    “You want me to walk over with you?” Ivan asked, his eyes searching her face.
    Ella shook her head and offered a weary smile.
    “I’m sure you can make it,” Ivan said, his hand on the doorknob. “The path is still there.”
    Ella slipped her boots back on, and Ivan held the door open for her. With a quick glance at his face, she stepped out onto the porch. The wildness of the storm nearly overwhelmed her as Ivan pushed the door shut.
    With a burst of energy she launched out, finding remnants of the path still clear enough to make her way, just as Ivan had said. Her breath almost gone, she reached the house and jerked the front door open. Light flickered across the floor from the kerosene lamp Ivan had left on the desk.
    Ella shook off her coat at the front door, took her boots off, and then grabbed the lamp. She opened the bedroom door on the main floor and checked on baby Barbara. Then she took the lamp upstairs to check on the girls. Seeing they were okay, she glanced into another doorway—a guest room. She moved inside, took off her outer garments, and wearily crawled into the bed.
    The night had been so much more than Ella had expected. But it was good and right that she was here. She drifted to sleep with the thought that surely Da Hah had known she would be needed here tonight.

Six
     
    W hen Ella awoke, the darkness was hanging heavily outside the bedroom window. Only the morning chill spoke of the soon breaking dawn. For a long moment she lay there, not remembering where she was. As the memory of the previous night returned, panic surged through her. The girls! What will my early-morning presence in the house mean to the girls? Always before she’d told them an overnight stay wasn’t possible. Now, through no fault of her own, it suddenly had become possible. What would she tell them when they asked why she was there? And what would she say when they asked if she could stay another night…perhaps even tonight if the storm didn’t let up?
    What good would it do to think of that now? No good at all, she decided. She wearily got out of bed and searched in the unfamiliar dresser drawer, finding matches where she expected them. She lit the kerosene lamp. With the wick turned as low as possible, she dressed. There was no choice but to wear the clothes from yesterday. With the storm apparently ended outside, she could surely go home. She would come back tomorrow for the funeral. Another night here was out of the question.
    Ella left the lamp in the bedroom, keeping the door ajar to light the hall. She opened the girls’ bedroom door. They slept as she had left them, tight under the covers with only their heads sticking out. She wanted to kiss them and take them into her arms, but she held back. They would awaken soon anyway.
    Was it possible she could yet escape without them knowing she was still here? Desperation filled her—a desire to drive off in her buggy before the girls knew. That would prevent the questions over why she was there and why it couldn’t happen again.
    Maybe someday she would stay. Yes, she could marry Ivan, regardless of how she felt, and it would help the girls’ situation. Ella sucked in her breath so