Beyond the Cliffs of Kerry (23 page)

"Were you born in these parts?" she asked.

"Not born, but raised."

"Where?"

"I was raised up by
Windsor
River
, ma'am."

Darcy noticed the funny way his grey beard jumped up and down as he spoke, and she watched his hands move the needle deftly through the leather as he repaired his moccasin.

She suspected that beneath that dirty and disheveled exterior, Moses Tinker had a keen mind.

"
Windsor
River
, that's where
Fort
Lawrence
is built," she said, "You must be going home."

"Home for the last time, I'm done scoutin'. I'm going to build a little place near the fort and stay there for good. I'm too old for this. "

Even a seasoned guide can get road weary, Darcy thought.

"How do you know these lands so well? It is so vast, and every turn looks like the last one."

"There's nothing special about it. You probably know your home just as well.” He stopped sewing and looked at her. "Say, you're Irish, ain't you? My pappy was Irish. Listenin’ to you talk is like having him alive again. You people have a way of sounding like you're singin' a song when you talk."

"So your father was Irish?"

 
"He was. He came over here after that big battle in
Ireland
. What was it called again?"

"The
Battle
of the
Boyne
?”

“Yes, that’s it,” and he nodded. When he smiled, Darcy noticed he had few teeth.

“My, my,” she said. “It's a proud thing to say that your ancestors fought at the
Boyne
, Mr. Tinker."

"He lost one of his legs in that fight, but he said it was worth it."

"Was your mother Irish too?

"Naw, my mother was Nipmuc Indian. We moved to the
Windsor
after she died of the pox. The English took her home away too, just like they did in your land." He looked over in the direction of the soldiers and shook his head, "They sure have a way of coming in and just helping themselves. I can't understand how you could--" He abruptly broke off, returning to his mending. The fire popped and snapped during Tinker's silence.

Darcy replied, "Yes, Mr. Tinker, I am sleeping with the enemy, and right now, it is how I survive. Might I remind you, that you too are on His Majesty's payroll?"

He snickered and said, "Well, I guess we've all gotta dance with the devil, don't we? But someday we'll be rid of 'em. Mark my words."

As they were going to bed that night, Nathan told Darcy that they were less than a day away from
Fort
Lawrence
. Relief washed over her, and she sighed deeply. At her first opportunity, she would find a stream to bathe. The dust and mud covered her skirt, and it was speckled everywhere with small seeds, which refused to dislodge themselves. She began to see the practicality of buckskin.

Darcy slid her weary body under the blankets, and Nathan rolled over on his cot, instantly asleep. They had been too dirty and road weary to be amorous for many nights now, and Darcy was grateful to Nathan for leaving her alone.

The next morning brought sunshine and renewed hopes. Everyone was eager to arrive at their destination, and the pace quickened. About midday, Nathan said that
Fort
Lawrence
was just over the hill, and when they reached the clearing at the summit, Darcy stopped her horse. The panorama was breathtaking.

Directly below her in a lush valley was the
Windsor
River
, winding its way past the star-shaped timber fort as it rested on a hill in the center of the valley. The cliffs on either side were topped with dark green pines, in striking contrast to the aquamarine of the river. The hills of Kerry were a bright emerald color, but the dark rich green of the
New World
was equally beautiful.

Darcy realized that she was holding up the party. She moved on, her horse picking its way carefully down the hill. They passed a grove of maples, which had several wooden spouts protruding from the bark. Darcy recalled someone telling her once that sweet syrup could be derived from the sap of these trees, and she wondered if this was the case here. She would make a point to ask Nathan about it later.

Realizing that the fort was still several miles off, Nathan ordered the company to stop in the clearing and eat their midday meal. The soldiers sat down on overturned logs or sprawled out directly onto the ground, eating their rations. Darcy dismounted to stretch her legs. She walked around the small clearing and spotted an overturned bucket in the underbrush. She wondered if settlers had tapped maple trees here too, and she picked up her skirts and walked through the brush to have a better look.

A crow was eating bugs off a log by the bucket, and he flew up into a tree to watch from a safer distance. As she waded through the brush, she saw the badly decaying corpse of a human being.

Maggots crawled everywhere over the remains, and although the man's face remained intact, the skin from his skull had been ripped savagely from his body. Darcy could not move or even scream. Her eyes were locked on the expression of agony forever frozen on the face of the dead man. When she saw the crow sitting in the tree waiting to resume his meal, bile rose in her throat.

Moses Tinker stepped up behind her. He took Darcy by the arm and urged, "Come along quickly, Miss. It’s dangerous."

After Moses informed Colonel Lawrence of the scalping, the company left immediately. Darcy now understood what Nathan feared. She recalled Father Etienne talking about the death of his mother, and after seeing the brutality of the act, Darcy understood why he was so distraught.

They arrived safely at the fort in the afternoon. Everyone was relieved. There was already a garrison posted there, commanded by Major Joseph Howell, but when Colonel Lawrence arrived, he would return to
Boston
.

Darcy was shown to her room located near Nathan's quarters. It was a small room with a rustic table and chairs and a bed covered with a well-worn patchwork quilt. Darcy sat down on the bed and began to unpin her hair. She was determined to wash the mud off her body before the day's end and change into some clean clothes.

There was a knock on the door, and an attractive young woman stood in front of her. "I'll tighten the ropes on the bed for you, Miss McBride, and I'm boiling some water to wash out that old quilt too."

"I don't expect to be waited on," protested Darcy. "I'll bring out my own laundry and do the wash myself. You must have hundreds of other things to do."

"Oh, there’s not so much. This is a small fort compared to those in the South, Miss."

 
"This is the first fort that I've seen," returned Darcy.

She could hear the unmistakable Scottish brogue in this woman's voice, and she asked, "Are you from
Scotland
?"

"No, I am from
Ireland
," the woman said.

The smile dropped from Darcy's face. She raised an eyebrow and said, "Let me guess, Ulster Plantation."

With Darcy’s icy attitude, the cheerful expression faded from the young woman's face. She said nothing more and left the room. Darcy detested the people who moved onto the plantations the British had organized in
Ireland
. She considered them outsiders and traitors.

Without a second thought, she washed her hair, pinned it up and ventured into the large courtyard the colonists called a
parade ground
. It was busy with British regulars trying to situate the new arrivals. She saw few women.

Cabins stood against the inside walls of the fort upon which sentries were stationed. Darcy remembered hearing their footsteps above her head when she was in her room. She noticed that the chimneys of these buildings faced the interior courtyard, and she guessed that this was to prevent the timbered walls of the fort from catching fire. Several cannons stood on the battlements and a powder magazine was erected in the center of the parade ground.

Holding her laundry, she headed over toward three women building a fire under a large crucible. "Is this where I wash my clothing?"

“Yes right here. You are welcome to join us,” they replied. They were cordial and helped her find everything she needed, but when the Scotch-Irish woman handed her a crock of laundry soap, Darcy's back stiffened, and her smile faded. She pushed her clothes down into the pot with a stick, saying nothing.

With her arms crossed over her chest, she watched Darcy. Finally she said, "Why do you hate me?"

"I have nothing against you
personally
," Darcy said, without looking up. “Just your kind.”

"How dare you come to my home and treat me like I'm not good enough," the woman said.

"Well now, how does it feel?” replied Darcy. “The only difference is I will let you keep your home and your religion. That's more than you did for us in
Ireland
." Darcy bent over, and the cross she wore inside her bodice slipped out.

The woman said, "You seem to be forgetting the meaning of that cross you wear around your neck.”

Darcy straightened up and burned a look into the woman as she walked away. After finishing her laundry, she returned to her room where there was a tub of warm water waiting for her. She removed her filthy clothes and stepped into the small tub. The water felt heavenly as she scrubbed off the grime of the trip.

Darcy removed the cross and charm from her neck and as she placed the chain on a chair, she remembered what the woman had said to her earlier. A pang of guilt shot through her. She had been self-righteous and judgmental, and as much as she hated to apologize she knew she must do it.

As Darcy was putting on a white smock and pulling a clean gown over her head, there was a knock on the door. A guard said, "Colonel Lawrence wants to see you in his office."

Nathan was busy with Major Howell when Darcy was admitted. He had cleaned up as well. He was dressed in a clean uniform but wore no jacket. He was in his shirt sleeves, vest and breeches. Someone had polished his boots, and he looked very dashing, sitting behind his desk.

When Major Howell left, he said, "Darcy, there is something that I would like you to do. I have the identity of the man scalped in the
maple grove
. It seems that he has been missing for some time. He was a settler living not too far from the fort. His wife and children are living here now waiting for his return. I think that the news should come from a woman. I would like you to be the one to tell her."

Darcy gasped, "You want me to tell her that her husband is dead?"

"Yes."

 
"Oh, Nathan, what a thing to ask."

"I know, Darcy, but I know none of the women here, and you were the one to find him."

Darcy sighed and reluctantly gave her consent. Nathan thanked her and told her the woman's name was Adrianna McDermott. She stepped out into the sunshine and straightened her back. This was going to be difficult, and she did not relish the thought of bringing misery to anyone.

After asking a small girl to direct her to Mrs. McDermott’s quarters, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door. She heard footsteps, the door opened and there stood the Scotch-Irish woman. Darcy's heart jumped into her throat and with a shaky voice, she asked reluctantly, "Is Adrianna McDermott here?"

"I am Adrianna McDermott" the woman said with her eyes narrowing. “What do
you
want?”