Into the Wilderness (112 page)

She
began to sort through the books on her desk.

"I'm
not sure if we shall go. I need to talk to your father about it."

"If
you want to go, he won't say no," Hannah said. "He can't refuse you
anything."

"Is
that so?" Elizabeth laughed. "Let's get home, then, and see if you
are right."

Hannah
cast a longing look toward the study. "Could I stay just a while
longer?"

Elizabeth
wanted
very much to give Hannah the half hour she desired, but it was not a sensible
thing to do. There was work waiting at home: the small fields of corn, beans,
and squash that lay on the outer, sunny apron of the gorge demanded all the
women's energy now, and Hannah's time outside of school was highly prized.
Beyond that, Nathaniel and Runs-from-Bears were even more on guard these days
than they had been. Billy Kirby had not yet made a move to avenge his hurt
pride, but he would not wait forever.

"You
can take the tract home with you until tomorrow."

The
child's face darkened: disappointment, and a tinge of defiance. This lasted
only for a moment, and then she turned and went back into the workroom, to
reappear again empty—handed.

"It
is not fair," she said.

"Being
tethered all the time. I like it as little as Grandfather did, but you set him
free." And she threw
Elizabeth
a significant glance.

"Ah,"
she said. "I wondered when you'd find out about that. Did the boys tell
you?"

Hannah
nodded. "It is easy for you to talk about staying close to home and being
safe," she said. "You've had your excitement, the summer in the bush
and then breaking Grandfather out of Anna's pantry.

Elizabeth
pressed the ridge of her nose between two fingers and a thumb. "Those were
not pleasant experiences, Hannah," she said. "I did not go looking
for them, and I wish that neither had been necessary."

The
little girl shrugged one shoulder, unconvinced. "Everyone else in this
family gets to have adventures. When will it be my turn?"

"soon
enough, I fear,"
Elizabeth
said. And hoped it was a lie.

* * *

There
was another social call to pay, one that Elizabeth dreaded very much. But she
thought that she might as well get it behind her, on the way to Polly's
engagement party. Kitty would not welcome her gladly, but she could not put
aside the strong feeling that the younger woman did need help, and would accept
it, if only
Elizabeth
could find the right words.

Nathaniel
was not happy about the visit, but he seemed much easier when they found out
that Mr. Witherspoon had gone to pay a call on Martha Southern. Hannah too did
not mind the delay; she took a chair in the Witherspoons parlor and looked
about herself with great curiosity and undisguised interest, jumping up to
examine the books on the shelves with her hands crossed on her back, as if she
could barely withstand the urge to touch the few well—read volumes. Elizabeth
joined her and found what she had expected: Tillotson's and Butler's Sermons,
much thumbed;
Pilgrim's Progress,
Paradise Lost, Robinson Crusoe
, with bindings carefully repaired; Walton's
Life of Dr. John Donne, Law's A Serious Call
to a Devout
and Holy Life, and
Clarke's
A Demonstration of the Being and
Attributes
of God
, these less
worn and dustier than the rest. There were also some volumes on medicine, which
immediately caught Hannah's attention. She sent Kitty a pleading look, and
receiving a small nod in return, Hannah settled herself happily in the corner
with
The Anatomy
of Humane Bodies with Figures Drawn After
Life
with an air of real industry.

Kitty's
still and disinterested expression was focused on Nathaniel, who was carrying
most of the burden in trying to create a conversation; none of what came into
Elizabeth's head would serve at all, as most of it had to do with the neat,
round expanse of Kitty's middle. Until today
Elizabeth
had resisted the urge to calculate
Kitty's condition out in months, but found now that she could not deny what she
saw before her. With some shock she reckoned that Kitty was perhaps seven months
gone;
Elizabeth
wondered at herself that she had been so preoccupied indeed in January, to have
not noticed the game Julian had been playing with this girl. With this girl who
would soon be a mother, without a husband's support. She wished very much for
some degree of intimacy with Kitty, so that she could discuss her situation
with her openly, but the expression on the younger woman's face made it clear
that this was an impossibility.

Kitty
had turned her attention to
Elizabeth
,
her pale eyes hooded.

"There
was no word of Richard in
Albany
."
It was a statement rather than a question.

"I
am afraid not."

A lip
curled down in gentle disbelief. "Really? You are disappointed not to have
met him there?"

Elizabeth
produced something that was meant to be a smile, determined not to lose her
composure or temper. "I have brought you a few things from Albany."
She gestured to the basket Nathaniel had put down near the door. "I hope
they will be of use."

There
was a notable silence.

"I
will be in Albany to testify when the time comes," Kitty said. "When
Richard is back. He will buy me what I require then."

Because
she did not know whether she should be affronted at such bad manners, or
rightfully rebuked for having presumed that Kitty would accept any token from
her,
Elizabeth
glanced away. On Nathaniel's face there was wariness: he did not want Kitty—or
anyone here—to know about the new court date, and the repercussions if Richard
were not to appear. With some misgivings, Elizabeth swallowed down what she
most wanted to say.

He
saw what was on her mind, and rose to end the visit. "I am sure he will,
Kitty. In the meantime, we got you some odds and ends to tide you over. Boots,
they'll be waiting for us."

Hannah
dropped a small curtsy before Kitty. "Did you know that Polly and Benjamin
are getting married?" she asked. "We're going to the party. Do you
want to come?"

Kitty
turned away to look out the window, her narrow back straight and her shoulders
held so stiffly that Elizabeth thought a single touch might cause her to
shatter.

Walking
away from the house,
Elizabeth
had the sense of the empty windows at her back, as vacant as blind eyes.

* * *

It
was Samuel Hench who gave Nathaniel and Elizabeth the news that Judge Middleton
and his son had left for Albany just that afternoon. For once, Curiosity seemed
not to know about the judge's movements, and seeing the joyous faces in the
parlor,
Elizabeth
understood her distraction.

"I
thought perhaps that ye would not know," Samuel said, his face troubled. "It
did seem strange to me that they should go off so suddenly."

"Never
mind, man." Nathaniel clapped him on the shoulder. "Let's not ruin
the party for the others."

The
reasoning was sound, but
Elizabeth
could hardly
put the idea of her father and brother on their way to
Albany
out of her head. Most certainly her
cousin had mentioned their meeting at Judge van der Poole's; Julian had
reasoned out the rest for himself. She sighed, and turning, walked straight
into Curiosity's arms.

"I
knew you'd be here," Curiosity said with a smile. "Come say
hello."

The
night air was distinctly cold and much of the party was gathered around the
hearth: Polly and Benjamin, looking dazed but happy, Daisy with some sewing in
her lap, and a tall, sturdy man introduced to
Elizabeth
as Joshua.

"We
met a friend of yours in the bush," Nathaniel said by way of greeting.

Joshua
seemed to be perhaps thirty, although the hair on his closely shorn skull was
tinged with gray. He had mellow brown eyes and a steady gaze. "Yes, sir,
so I've been told. I would appreciate the opportunity to talk to you about
that, after the party."

Elizabeth
followed his glance toward the young people by the hearth. Polly and Benjamin
were talking to Hannah, but Daisy's attention was fixed solidly on her sewing.
This struck
Elizabeth
as strange; then Daisy
glanced up and
Elizabeth
saw the brightness of her eye, and the look in it when she turned her gaze to
Joshua.

"Yes,
this is not the time,"
Elizabeth
agreed.

Joshua
sat down again across from Daisy, who dropped her head over her work.
Elizabeth
elbowed
Nathaniel neatly to cut off any comment that might be forthcoming, and she
sought out Curiosity, who winked at her meaningfully.

"He
ain't going anyplace," Galileo announced. "The judge's going to set
him up. We been without a smith since Asa Pierce came out on the wrong side of
a disagreement with that bear, and Joshua is looking for work."

"What
very good news!"
Elizabeth
caught her cousin's eye and smiled broadly.

"Good
things come to them who wait, ain't that so, Elizabeth?" Curiosity called.
She was putting a bowl of butter beans on the table and she straightened up to
survey the collection of platters and servers. "Hannah child, you must be
hungry. George, Manny, put down them dominoes now, and come eat. Even happy
stomachs need food," she said in the direction of the hearth. "Mr.
Hench, will you do us the honor of starting?"

* * *

They
learned that the wedding party was set for the next Saturday afternoon, to
which Hannah promptly called out: "Oh, no!"

"Saturday
next doesn't suit you, Missy Hannah?" Galileo asked solemnly. "Why is
that?"

Hannah
ducked her head and apologized for her outburst.

"We
have the school recitation planned for Saturday evening," Elizabeth
explained. "But of course we shall find another time for that."

"No
need," Polly said, tugging on Hannah's plait. "A wedding don't take
very long, after all. Don't you like the idea of two parties in one day?"

"Our
Hannah likes her parties spread out, generous like," Nathaniel said. "She
doesn't like to tire herself out with her admirers."

"I
don't see any problem with both things on the Saturday, if you don't, Miz
Elizabeth." Benjamin raised his voice to be heard over the good—natured
laughter.

"It
is entirely up to you," Elizabeth said. "If you don't mind—"

Hannah
clapped her hands with pleasure, and turned to Samuel Hench. "I've never
been to a wedding so I don't know what will happen there, but will you come to
the school party? Jed will play his fiddle, and there's doughnuts, and singing,
and poems."

"I
would very much like to hear thee sing," he replied solemnly. "But
I'm afraid my business will take me away tomorrow."

"Why,
that's not any visit at all," Hannah said. "You haven't even come to
Lake in the Clouds."

Elizabeth
squeezed Hannah's hand under the table and leaned in closer. "I'm sure
that Cousin Samuel would stay longer if he could."

"I
would, indeed," Samuel agreed.

"Cousin,"
she said quietly. "I hope you haven't taken offense at my father's sudden
departure."

But
his answer was interrupted by a knock at the door; the kind of knock that did
not mean friends come to call. The laughter in the room fell away into an
awkward silence and Galileo rose with a puzzled expression and went into the
hall. Beside
Elizabeth
,
Nathaniel tensed.

The
man who appeared in the doorway was not especially large, but he had a great
expanse of gray beard, a halo of bright white hair, and a forcefulness of
purpose in his stance.

"The
name's O'Brien," he announced. "Treasury agent. Here on business. The
Indians on the mountain said I might find Nathaniel Bonner at Judge
Middleton's." His eyes, ice—blue, hesitated at Samuel Hench and then moved
on to Nathaniel. "I guess that's you. I'll have a word, now."

Elizabeth
was on her feet, her hands clenched at her sides. "You are unwelcome here,
Mr. O'Brien. This is a family party. If you care to call again in the morning—”

“A
family party?" He smiled, exposing a scattering of sharp teeth in raw
gums. "Strange family, I'd say. Where is the judge, anyhow?" This
last question was shot at Galileo, who provided a brief explanation.

"If
you would be so kind, Mr. O'Brien—"
Elizabeth
tried again.

"It's
not my business to be kind when I'm on a job. Who're you?"