Into the Wilderness (114 page)

Over
a solitary supper—Hannah was still busy with Falling—Day—Elizabeth brought up
the subject again. "Where do you think Richard could be?"

It
was not a new question, and Nathaniel shrugged, as he always did.

"Your
guess is as good as mine, Boots."

""Excessive
worry will not resolve anything,""
Elizabeth
recited.

"Right
again."

"But
I can't help wondering."

He
sighed, and put down his fork. "O'Brien has been nosing around on the
mountain."

"Oh,
now that is one way to distract me. Something new to worry about. Did you catch
him at it?"

"Bears
ran across him on the north face."

Elizabeth
looked up sharply. "Near the mine?"

He
nodded. "Don't worry, he hasn't found it."

"How
do you know?"

"Because
he hasn't showed up here with your father and brother and Billy Kirby behind
him," Nathaniel said.

"Of
course, Billy is behind this, and my brother behind Billy. Lord God,"
Elizabeth muttered. "Does he have the right to trespass, as a treasury
agent?"

"I
ain't exactly sure," Nathaniel admitted. "But he got off quick enough
when he ran into Bears. I'm on my way to see the judge tonight, to find out for
certain."

Elizabeth
busied herself clearing the table. He caught her wrist, drew her across to sit
on his lap with a thump.

"I
don't want you worrying overmuch, Boots. It's just another week to the hearing,
and we'll be clear then. I'll stick closer to home in the meantime." He
blinked at her, and then tried for a grin. "I promised you life wouldn't
be boring, didn't I?"

She
touched her forehead to his. "Right at this moment, I would not mind
boring. Do you want me to come with you?"

"No.
You can't hold your temper around your father—don't frown at me that way,
Boots, you know it's true. I'll wait till Julian is down at Axel's, to catch
the judge on his own."

"Suddenly
an evening shucking corn sounds quite pleasant." Elizabeth began to climb
off Nathaniel's lap, but found that he was not ready to let her go.

"You
don't need to work so hard, Boots," he said softly. "I worry about
you.

"Pah,"
she said, tweaking his ear. She took his hand and spread it across the slowly
increasing curve of her stomach. "I'm as healthy as an ox."

"And
just about as heavy." He grinned, wiggling underneath her.

Elizabeth
yanked harder on his ear this time. "I shall remember that, Nathaniel
Bonner, the next time you want me to sit on your lap." And with a little
push she was up and away.

* * *

For
the recital Anna Hauptmann promised five dozen doughnuts and a wheel of her
good cheese; the Gloves, cider and ale enough for all; the other families,
blessed with fewer material goods, pledged apple and pumpkin pies, corn
fritters and baked beans. Curiosity announced that if she was making one cake,
she might as well make two. The schoolchildren came to
Lake
in the Clouds by special invitation on the night before the recital to practice
their singing, and to make popcorn balls, sampling extensively as they went.

There
was much discussion of what to sing, in what order, and whether or not audience
participation should be encouraged, or tolerated.

"Just
try to keep our ma from singing," said Hezibah, licking her fingers.

"Not
during "Barbry Allen'!" warned Jemima. ""Barbry Allen' is
mine!"

"We'll
make sure your mother has a full plate," Elizabeth suggested to the Glove
girls. "So she won't feel compelled to sing along."

This
made sense to Jemima, who went back to squeezing popcorn into tortured shapes.

"Is
the judge coming?" asked Hannah.

"He
is," confirmed Nathaniel from the corner where he was casting bullets. "Told
me so himself." He raised a brow in Elizabeth's direction, seeing her
frown. "I think you'll be surprised at the audience you get. It's the talk
of the village, your recital. Do you think you'll have your mouth unglued by
that time, Ephraim?"

Ephraim
mumbled an answer through a great mass of molasses and popcorn.

"He
don't know his poem yet," Henrietta announced primly. "I heard him
trying to say it to Ma today, and he couldn't get past the third line. Maybe
Dolly will have to say it for him."

Ephraim
took a threatening step toward his sister, and Elizabeth caught him up neatly. "Well,
then, you'll have to come to the schoolhouse in the afternoon and practice. If
your mother can spare you. Could we possibly try "The Lass of Richmond
Hill' now? All of us?"

Rudy
McGarrity, blessed with his father's musical ear, provided the tone and the
children were off at a great gallop, with cheerful enthusiasm if a notable lack
of synchronization. They followed this with "Robin Adair" and
concluded with a thunderous rendition of "Yankee Doodle." Outside,
Hector and Blue raised their voices to sing along.

Elizabeth
made
a mental note to herself to make sure the dogs were securely tied up far away
from the schoolhouse for the duration of the recital.

* * *

Paradise
was a hardworking, no—nonsense kind of place for most of the year, not much
given to taffy pulling or picnics. At first worried that folks would just
ignore the school recital—something he did not know how to warn Elizabeth
about—Nathaniel began to imagine what might come of excesses of hard cider,
high spirits, and old grudges scraped newly raw. The combination of Polly's
wedding and the school recital on the heels of a rushed but successful harvest
was a powerful one, and he watched its approach as he would watch a dead tree
in a windstorm, to see in what direction it might decide to fall.

The
day arrived, and
Paradise
surprised him by
turning out in its best. Jack MacGregor, a man known to spit at his own shadow
when it got too close, showed up for the wedding in a regimental kilt so
moth—eaten and dusty that it set half the village to sneezing; Charlie LeBlanc
had invested in a top hat two sizes too small, and it perched on his pinkish
skull like a hen at roost. Most of the men owned nothing more than two sets of
buckskins, and had had to dig to the bottom of their trunks.

"Ain't
seen the back of so many uniforms since we run the Tories out of
Saratoga," announced Axel, drawing sharp glances from his daughter and a
giggle from his grandchildren. "Schau Anna." He poked her with a long
finger. "Ain't that the jacket Dubonnet wore to his own wedding? Must be
ten year ago."

Even
Billy Kirby had made an effort: his buckskin and his hair both approached
something a man might call clean. There was no sign of Liam, or O'Brien.
Nathaniel was glad of Bears, back up on the mountain to keep an eye on things.

The
Bonners were barely settled in the pew behind the Hauptmanns when the service
began. Yankees might be the kind to spend their free time in a church but
Yorkers had other ideas, and Witherspoon knew his congregation and their
worldly leanings: over the years he had learned to carve his services down to
the bone.

Under
the pitched roof the crowd generated a lot of heat. Elizabeth's color was high,
and there was a sheen of sweat on her brow, but she smiled when Nathaniel
caught her eye. Between them, Hannah hopped with excitement, until Many-Doves
leaned over to give the child a pointed look. Many-Doves was getting a few
looks herself: she didn't often come to the village, and people took note. He
was not much given to prayer, but Nathaniel wondered if they could all get
through this day without some help from Above.

In a
new dress of deep green, cut generously so that she could move and breathe,
Elizabeth
listened to the
ceremony, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of the bride. Even above the
rustling and coughing of an impatient congregation, she heard Polly's calm
voice as she recited her vows; she wondered if she had sounded so composed, but
at the moment she could remember nothing of her own wedding except a series of
disjointed images, and the feel of her hands in Nathaniel's. This put her in
mind of Mrs. Schuyler, which in turn raised the idea of aunt Merriweather;
Hannah tugged on her skirt, rescuing her from her worries. The congregation was
on its feet and singing. Polly and Benjamin were making their way down the
aisle with Curiosity and Galileo just behind.

"I
thought it would take longer," Hannah said.

"Oh,
it will," said Many-Doves . "Another thirty or forty years, most
likely."

Elizabeth
bit
back her smile, but Nathaniel laughed out loud.

The
wedding party had been set up on tables behind the church on the small green
that ran down to the brook. Under a stand of maples flaming in oranges and
reds, children already gathered around plates of sweets. Dolly Smythe called to
Hannah, who disappeared into the crowd of children without a backward glance.

The
men were opening a keg of rum.

"Can't
have a wedding in Paradise without rum," Nathaniel said, taking in the
look of surprise on Elizabeth's face. "Don't worry, Boots. I'm not about
to partake."

"A
toast to honor the bridal couple would not be unreasonable, Nathaniel."

He
shook his head, his eyes traveling over the crowd. "Not today." And
then: "I wish my father were here."

With
a frown, Many-Doves dealt Nathaniel a pinch hard enough to make him jump. "This
is a wedding party," she reminded him. "Not a war council."

"Yes,
please," Elizabeth added. "Today of all days. The children are so
looking forward to the recital. And look at Curiosity, I have never seen her so
happy."

Nathaniel
moved away from Doves, rubbing his arm. "I'm no match for the two of you,
Boots. I'll give it a try."

He
took
Elizabeth
's
hand and the three of them made their way toward the bridal couple. What a
strange but wonderful thing it was,
Elizabeth
thought, to hold a man's hand in a crowd. It made her feel very young and silly
and at the same time very pleased. It was just five months since she had been a
bride herself after all, and for Many-Doves it was even more recent. Elizabeth
caught sight of Molly Kaes teasing one of the Cameron brothers, and she shook
her head slightly to herself.

"It's
the business of the day, Boots," Nathaniel said, reading her thoughts. "Harvesttime
and courting go together."

"And
a rush of babies in the spring," added Many-Doves , patting her own belly.

Polly
and Benjamin accepted their good wishes with pleasure. Elizabeth let Galileo
press a glass of punch into her hands, and she spoke a few words with Manny and
Daisy. Curiosity, for once at a loss for words, simply hugged her and smiled.
As the brother of the groom, George had decided to take charge of
entertainment, and together with Joshua he had begun a game of boules. Many of
the men were wandering in that direction.

Elizabeth
finally turned away to find herself face to face with the judge, and Julian.

She
looked over the crowd, hoping for some distraction which would reasonably take
her away, but her father's tone, tentative and friendly, stopped her. Not for
the first time Elizabeth wondered if it was her father's role in Chingachgook's
death which had caused this sudden change in his attitude, or if there was some
other, less visible or pleasant motivation. He had even been willing to speak
to the treasury agent on their behalf or so he had claimed to Nathaniel. Now he
was trying to meet her eye, like a schoolchild looking for praise.

"You
are looking very well, daughter."

His
face was drawn thin, but his hands were steady and he had lost some of the
vacant look in his eyes. He held a cup of punch rather than rum, she saw with
some relief. But
Elizabeth
could not think of one topic to discuss with him that would not soon bring them
to an argument, and so simply thanked him.

"Has
your harvest gone well?" he asked, directing the question to both
Nathaniel and Many-Doves .

"Very
well," Many-Doves said. "We are pleased."

"You
are gaining weight,
Elizabeth
."

Her
head snapping up in surprise,
Elizabeth
saw that her father was sincere: he did not know about her condition, or he
never would have made such a remark. She had never had the opportunity to talk
to him alone and pass on this information, but she thought by now someone would
have pointed out to him what would soon be obvious to all.

At
the same time, there was a new look on Julian's face. He had not known, but he
did now.

"I
did not mean to offend," the judge said, looking uncertainly between
Elizabeth and Nathaniel. "It suits you, after all."