Into the Wilderness (23 page)

Martha
handed Anna the next pair of curtains, coloring slightly. The younger woman
touched her muslin cap with one rough hand. "I hope I will be sending my
Jemima, Miz Elizabeth," she said. "I pray to the Lord that my good
husband will see the value."

Anna
grunted. "That
would
require
some divine intervention."

Elizabeth
knew the women expected her to take up a part of this conversation, and in fact
that the men had quieted down in the hope of hearing her respond. But she
turned away and set to unpacking the next crate of books. Elizabeth was
resolved not to let herself be pulled into this debate; she knew she could not
convince people like Martha's husband, Moses, and she was afraid that she might
scare away the others in the process of trying to do so.

This
small silence was disturbed by a deep double rumble from the stomachs of Ian
and Rudy McGarrity, nine and ten years old but alike enough to pass as twins.
They looked up from under shaggy blond hair to grin with something closer to
pride than embarrassment.

"Why,
Jed," said Anna, when the laughter had died down. "Your boys got
innards you could set the clock by. Getting on toward midday."

"And
dinner waiting on the table, if I know my womenfolk." Jed unfolded his
long frame from the window sash he had been sanding and reached for his hat.
"We'll be back tomorrow in the early, Miz Elizabeth. Not much more to
do."

The
others began to put their work down and find their wraps.

"Can
we see you home?" Charlie LeBlanc asked Elizabeth as he had every day he
had come to work on the cabin. From the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw the
grin on Anna Hauptmann's face, which she steadfastly ignored. It still came
hard to Elizabeth to find herself the object of so much attention from young
men, although she was improving in her ability to respond graciously.

"Thank
you very much," she said. "But I'd like to get these books
unpacked."

She
thanked each of the workers by name and stood on the porch with her shawl
clutched around her until they had all disappeared down the path toward their
midday meals and afternoon chores.

Martha
had lagged behind the others. Her face, freckled even in the dead of winter,
was serious. "You can't eat books, you know," she said. Distracted,
she patted the rounded form of her belly as if to send this message to the
child sleeping there, blessedly unaware of the possibility of hunger. Martha
had been keeping house since she was nine, first for her father, and then for
her husband; she didn't seem to be able to put aside her basic function in
life, which was to make sure that people were fed.

"Thank
you most kindly for your concern," Elizabeth replied. "I just have a
little more to do, but then I will go home and let Curiosity feed me
properly."

Martha
nodded, satisfied. But she still did not turn to go.

"I
don't suppose my Moses will change his mind about the schooling," she
said. "I hope you'll forgive me.

"I'm
sorry to hear that," said Elizabeth. "But there's nothing to forgive,
after all."

"Jemima
will be sore disappointed. But maybe—could we maybe borrow a schoolbook, once
in a while? I would like that, reading together of an evening."

"You
are very welcome to borrow books whenever you like. Would you like to take one
with you today?"

Martha
flashed a shy smile. "I would, but I think I had best not, Miz Elizabeth.
Not till I've asked Moses about it. You know how men can be at times."

Elizabeth
nodded, biting back words she knew could not serve any good purpose.

When
Martha was at the turning in the path, she turned back and raised an arm in
farewell.

"Don't
forget your dinner!" she called, and Elizabeth nodded in agreement.

* * *

She
would have forgot her dinner, because the next crate of books was one with many
fond memories. One by one she pulled out the Roman and Greek myths, the stories
of the Germanic gods, spending some time with feckless Peer Gynt. Then she took
up the plays that had so occupied and fascinated her as an adolescent: silly,
love—struck Juliet; Henry V which had made her want to masquerade as a boy and
go off to war.
Dr.Faustus
, which
still could send shivers down her spine, and Mrs. Behn's
The Rover
, which made her smile.

"Lost
in her books, as usual," said Julian at the door, and Elizabeth looked up
with a start.

"We've
brought your dinner!" called Katherine Witherspoon, coming up behind him.
Her cheeks were reddened from the cold and she laughed, knocking the snow from
her shoulders and hood.

Elizabeth
jumped up to take the basket from Julian, who immediately began to prowl the
cabin, sticking his nose into corners and sniffing delicately at the smell of
the betty lamp.

"I
suppose it will do, Lizzie," he said. "For your little school.
Although I can't imagine being shut up here for hours at a time with a crowd of
runny noses."

"Will
you stop," Elizabeth said, unpacking Curiosity's ham and cheese pie.

"I
think it's very nice," Kitty said in a conspiratorial whisper to Elizabeth
that was not meant to be missed by Julian. "I had my lessons at the table,
from my father and from Richard, and this would have been much more jolly, I'm
sure.

"Oh,
very jolly." Julian snorted softly. "If they don't slit each other's
throats."

"Julian."

"Sorry,
Lizzie. I'll try to look on the bright side for your sake."

They
sat down around the food, and ate. Conversation was handled primarily by Kitty
and Julian, who laughed and talked of everything that was of no interest to
Elizabeth at all. Kitty was very animated, and it occurred to Elizabeth that
while she may have once had hopes of Richard Todd, she had now most obviously
shifted her attentions to Julian. Which was a very sad thing, for Elizabeth
knew her brother well, and was sure he would not attach himself to Kitty. If he
ever married, it would be a move calculated to make him comfortable, something
not possible with Kitty. She wondered if there was any way for her to make
Julian aware of the dangerous game he was playing, and then she realized that
he knew full well. It was only the danger that interested him, after all.

"When
will you be starting up the school, then?" Kitty was asking.

"It
is most kind of you to take an interest. I think I can call school to session
on Monday next.

"Oh,
good," said Katherine. "That's good news, isn't it, Julian? You see, your
brother and I wanted to talk to you about going to Johnstown. It's been two
months or more since I've been, and I would like to see my friends the
Bennetts, and see about fabric—"

"I
can't go away, not now," interrupted Elizabeth.

"Oh,
come along," said Julian, waving a hand in dismissal. "You need a
little holiday before you start in on teaching, don't you think? A few days
away might be just the thing."

While
she ate, Elizabeth considered, letting them talk about the trip without
committing herself. It was clear that Julian considered this trip to Johnstown
a necessity; he would go, whether or not she came along. If she did accompany
him, she might be able to keep him from getting into trouble. When Julian had
spent or lost his own funds, he would appeal to her, or write notes on his
father's credit.

Without
her company, Kitty Witherspoon could not go to Johnstown, either. It was not
possible for her to travel with Julian unaccompanied.

"I
gather Father does not fancy a trip to Johnstown," Elizabeth said.
"Or you would not be asking me."

"Oh,
now you have struck me to the heart." Julian grinned. "Of course I
would ask you. Who else could keep me out of trouble? So you will come?"

There
was a soft knock at the door, and thankful for this interruption, Elizabeth
jumped up immediately as the door opened.

"Many-Doves
," she said, surprised and a little flustered. "Abigail. How nice to
see you. Do come in." Julian rose as the young woman came into the room,
but neither he nor Katherine came forward.

"May
I—" began Elizabeth, and then stopped, wondering how best to introduce
her.

Many-Doves
pushed her hood from her head and stepped toward them of her own accord,
offering her hand.

"Good
day, Miz Katherine."

Kitty
nodded primly, her mouth turned down at one corner. In vexation at this
interruption, or dislike, Elizabeth could not tell.

"My
name is Many-Doves ," she said in her low voice, extending her hand to
Julian. "But please do call me Abigail if you prefer."

Elizabeth
tensed, waiting for Julian's reaction, and then looked into his face and was
taken by surprise. Her brother was looking down at Many-Doves with a slightly
puzzled expression. Absent from his face was any trace of hostility or
amusement, two emotions which seemed to rule him at most times.

"Many-Doves
suits you better," he said, and he smiled as Elizabeth had not seen him
smile since he was a young boy.

* * *

When
Many-Doves had accepted the seat offered to her as well as a bit of their
lunch, a sudden and awkward silence followed. Uncharacteristically quiet,
Julian let Katherine and Elizabeth tend to the conversation without his
assistance. Many-Doves seemed to be content to sit and listen, although her
attention shifted constantly to the bookshelves.

More
nervous and agitated than usual, Katherine continued to look to Julian for
confirmation and approval after every statement or question, but Julian himself
was distracted. He kept his eyes on a piece of corn bread, which he slowly
dismantled, grain by grain. Katherine was forced to carry on by herself; she
addressed her comments primarily to Elizabeth, but then seemed to consider, and
turned to Many-Doves .

"Julian
and I were just talking to Elizabeth about a trip to Johnstown. We were hoping
that she would join us for a few days. She seems to think that her school will
suffer if she calls it to session later than she hoped."

"My
family is going down the Sacandaga," said Many-Doves , causing both
Elizabeth and Julian to look up suddenly. "Tomorrow."

"You
are?" asked Katherine, amazed. "All of you?"

"No,
not all." Many-Doves was suddenly uncomfortable, as if she had said too
much. "Hawkeye and his father will stay behind to—" There was a
slight pause in which Elizabeth imagined many things. "To look after the
traps."

"What
reason is there for all of you to travel so far in the winter?" asked
Julian, speaking for the first time, but keeping his gaze fixed on his plate.

"The
Uncle has come to announce the Midwinter Ceremony," Many-Doves said,
although she did not explain what she meant by
the Uncle
. "We'll go to the long house of the Turtle on the
Big Vly."

"How
long will you be gone?" asked Elizabeth, feeling something strange and
hollow when she thought of Nathaniel being away.

"Five
days, I think, altogether." She turned to Elizabeth. "What I came to say
was that Hannah will not be here if you plan to start school next week, but my
mother gives me leave to say that we will come the week after."

Katherine
was trying not to frown; the result was a strange half contortion of her face
which Elizabeth might have found comical under other circumstances.

"Are
you planning on coming to the school, as well?" she asked incredulously,
looking between Many-Doves and Elizabeth.

Since
her discussion with Nathaniel in this cabin two weeks before, Elizabeth had not
mentioned to anyone the possible involvement of Hannah and Many-Doves in her
school. But now it was clear that Nathaniel had not forgotten, that he had kept
his promise and spoken to Falling—Day. He would send his daughter to her
school. She was flooded with a range of feelings: satisfaction, relief, and
thankfulness. And she realized that he had given her something valuable: his
trust. That was the message Many-Doves brought with her.

"Abigail
has agreed to be my assistant," Elizabeth said, confident that she would
not be contradicted.

"Oh,
really?" Katherine said coolly. "What do you think of that
idea?" she asked Julian directly.

Julian's
eyes flickered past Many-Doves toward Katherine and then to Elizabeth.

"Well,
if it means that Elizabeth will come along to Johnstown because her assistant
isn't available to begin school next week, I suppose that there are some
significant advantages to the arrangement, however . . .unorthodox it may be
otherwise," he said, sounding more like himself than he had since Many-Doves
had arrived.

Elizabeth
kept Many-Doves with her when Julian and Katherine left, in spite of
Katherine's unhappiness with this arrangement. She wanted to ask her in more
detail about the decision to let Hannah come to the school, but once they were
alone she did not know how to broach the subject.