Into the Wilderness (8 page)

"Don't
go," he said behind her in a gentler tone. "I won't make light of
your boots anymore."

Elizabeth
came
to a halt, wondering even as she did so why she should
not
go. Why she did not wish to go.

He
said, "Folks will send their children to your school, but you got to have
one first."

She
had been ready to do battle, but
Elizabeth
found herself suddenly less angry than curious. She turned to him. "Do you
think they'll come? I thought that I had ruined everything."

Nathaniel
stepped back off the path to lean up against a tree trunk.
Elizabeth
noted, distracted, how big a man he
was. There were many tall men in her family; uncle Merriweather dwarfed most in
the neighborhood. She realized it was not so much his size but his gaze which
truly disconcerted her, absolutely direct and without apology.

"Folks
here're a little tougher than you might be used to, but they know an
opportunity when they see one. Didn't the judge tell you that he hired me to
build a schoolhouse for you?"

Elizabeth
shook her head.

"Settled
it at dinner last night."

She
barely knew what to say. She had been truly afraid that her father would not
honor his promise, that she would never get her school; but it seemed her
father had arranged for its construction after all. A wave of reluctant
appreciation overwhelmed her, along with the realization that she had Nathaniel
to thank for this. Why he would want to be of help to her she could not
imagine. There must be some other motivation, some good he saw in the idea of
the school, to want to put himself in this position. She looked at him and
tried to puzzle out what it was, but all she saw was Nathaniel's patient and
somewhat amused look.

"I
must say," she said with an uncertain smile."I didn't expect—I had no
idea. It is very kind of you—"

Nathaniel
raised an eyebrow. "It's got little to do with kindness and more to do
with cash money. He's paying me."

Elizabeth
glanced down. "I see."

"But
money wouldn't be enough to make the job to my liking if it weren't for other
considerations," Nathaniel added.

When
it was clear that
Elizabeth
did not know how to respond to this, Nathaniel found himself smiling. The woman
had a quick wit, there was no doubt about that, but she was not in the habit of
flirting. He found that this pleased him. He watched
Elizabeth
struggling to formulate some overly
polite response and he was taken by the urge to tease her.

"I'm
surprised your father didn't tell you himself."

"I
haven't seen him yet this morning, I wanted to be up and about,"
Elizabeth
said.

"Ah,"
Nathaniel said softly. "Couldn't wait to see the village, then. Looking
for likely candidates."

She
rose to this bait neatly. "Just what do you mean, sir?" she asked
sharply.

"I
meant you are on the lookout for students. What did you think meant?" he
asked, smiling even more broadly.

Elizabeth
laid
a hand on her hood to set it in place. Her hair had come loose and curls lay on
her cheek; she brushed these back. Nathaniel resisted the urge to step up to
her and pull them back out. He thought about doing it because he knew it would
make her blush, and he found he was developing an appetite for her blushes. But
he was patient, and she was not; he had the advantage, and he would use it. He
admitted to himself that his father was right, he had plans for this woman.

"Have
you made the acquaintance of the parson yet?" he asked in a kinder tone,
not pushing for an answer to his previous question. "He's got a daughter,
she'd be the person to talk to about the list you wanted. Of the children.Kitty
Witherspoon."

"Thank
you,"
Elizabeth
said. "That's very helpful." She looked about herself and saw they
were hidden from both the lake and the settlement where they stood.

"I
suppose I should be going, Mr. —" She paused. "If you are willing, we
could speak this evening about the schoolhouse."

"Are
you asking me to call on you this evening?"

Elizabeth
fought with an angry retort, realizing that she must learn new rules of
engagement here that were, at present, beyond her.

"It
is Christmas Eve. I thought my father had invited all of his friends."

His
gaze narrowed. "What makes you think I am a friend of your father's?"

"Whatever
the quarrel between you and my father, it is Christmas Eve,”
Elizabeth
repeated. "And if he has not
invited you, then I shall invite you. And your family." She steadied her
expression and looked him straight in the eye. "You may not be his friend,
but," She paused."You will be mine, will you not?"

Nathaniel
returned her gaze without a smile. "That I will, Boots," he said.
"For a start."

Elizabeth
arrived back at her father's home exhausted; the distance between the village
and the house which had seemed so little in the sleigh had nearly undone her.
She withdrew to her room after a brief conversation with her father, and although
it was only mid—morning, she fell into a deep sleep without dreams.

Curiosity
came to wake her in the mid—afternoon.

"I
let you sleep through lunch but you must be half—starved by this time,"
she said, putting a tray on a small table by the bed. The aroma of chicken and
gravy and potatoes rose from the covered dishes and made
Elizabeth
's stomach cramp with hunger. There
were beans and relish and hot corn bread, as well. She thanked Curiosity and
then fell to her food, noting out loud that the cold air and altitude were good
for her appetite.

"It's
running around the village in the snow," Curiosity pointed out. "But
you've got your rest now. There's company waiting for you downstairs once
you've had your fill."

Elizabeth
looked up, startled.

"Calm
yourself. Just Kitty Witherspoon, come to pay her respects. Your brother's
entertaining her until you come down."

* * *

Katherine
Witherspoon, she did not call herself Kitty to
Elizabeth
—waited in the sitting room on the
edge of her chair. There was no sign of Julian, which was disappointing to
Elizabeth
: he was much
better than she ever would be at the type of conversation required of such
calls. But then,
Elizabeth
reminded herself, she had no idea how calls were made here.

Miss
Witherspoon was a young woman in her early twenties,
Elizabeth
imagined. She was of medium height,
quite mature in her form, with narrow face below waves of pale blond hair. Her
eyes, a watery blue, were surrounded with a fringe of the same pale blond. The
younger woman came up from her chair quickly to greet
Elizabeth
, her hand damp with nervousness.
She was so enthusiastic and eager that she stumbled a little over a speech
Elizabeth
thought was
surely rehearsed, in which Miss Witherspoon listed all the reasons she was so
very pleased to have Elizabeth and her brother in the neighborhood.

It
had begun to snow in earnest and the two young women settled before the hearth
in the sitting room, where Daisy brought them tea.
Elizabeth
sighed with relief to find herself
in such peaceful surroundings after the last few days and the unsettling events
of the morning. Thoughts of her conversation with Nathaniel distracted her for
a moment away from the story Katherine was telling.

"I'm
afraid I'm taxing you too much after your long journey," Katherine said,
breaking off her narrative.

"Oh,
no,"
Elizabeth
assured her, wanting very much to set the young woman at ease.
 
"Please pardon me. Everything is so new
to me, I sometimes am distracted by little things."

"Were
you thinking of yesterday's accident?"

Elizabeth
considered her answer, realizing that everything that had passed between her
family and Nathaniel yesterday was now common knowledge.

"Pardon
me," Katherine went on, coloring slightly. "I shouldn't have
presumed."

"No,
that's quite all right,"
Elizabeth
said, but she did not answer Katherine's question. An awkward silence fell
between them, and
Elizabeth
roused herself.

"Miss
Witherspoon—Katherine," she said. "Perhaps you could be of assistance
to me. You may have heard that I wish to start a school here for the younger
children?"

Katherine
nodded.

"The
first step is for me to find out who my students will be, and to approach their
parents. Since you must be acquainted with all the families in
Paradise
, would you be so kind?" And
Elizabeth
fetched paper
and writing instruments and together the two women began a list.

Katherine
listed eight families with school—age children, and was able to give
Elizabeth
names and
directions to their cabins, as well as an approximate age of each child. Quite
pleased to have this accomplished so easily,
Elizabeth
looked over the list and counted
twelve names.

"These
are all the children, then?" she asked, somewhat apprehensively. She was
afraid she would have to directly inquire after the names of the children of
slaves, but Katherine seemed to realize this.

"Those
are all the children in the village, free or slave," Katherine said.

"I
expect that in some cases it will be hard for you to convince parents to let
the children come to school. Billy Kirby, for instance."

"Billy
Kirby?"

"He's
a farmer, hunter, hauls timber, and he does some building. He built this house
for your father. Billy is raising his younger brother since his parents passed
on." Katherine hesitated. "He won't be very enthusiastic about the
idea of sending Liam to school."

"Well,
I can talk to him, can't I?"
Elizabeth
said.

"Those
are all the children," Katherine repeated. "From the village,"
she added.

Elizabeth
raised an eyebrow and waited, for it was clear that Katherine had something
else to say.

"There
is one more name I haven't given you, because that child doesn't live in the
village; she lives with her family on the other side of Half Moon Lake, up on
Hidden
Wolf
Mountain
."

Elizabeth
made
ready to write. "I would like to have her name," she said. "I
wouldn't want to exclude her if she would like to come."

Again
Katherine hesitated. "I am surprised you don't know of her yet."

"Why
would I know about this little girl?"
Elizabeth
asked, puzzled.

"Because
she is Nathaniel Bonner's daughter," Katherine said.

Elizabeth
smiled thinly. "His daughter?"

"Her
name is Hannah, almost nine years old. A bright little thing."

"Mr.
Bonner is unmarried,"
Elizabeth
said, and
then wished she had not, because Katherine was looking at her with a kind of
understanding that made
Elizabeth
uneasy. "Perhaps I misunderstood him. No matter."

"Everyone
calls him Nathaniel," Katherine said easily. Then, without prompting:
"She died in childbed," she said in a low tone. "In spite of
everything Cora Bonner and Curiosity and dr. Todd could do for her. Nathaniel
has never recovered. She came down with a fever, you see—"

"How
very sad,"
Elizabeth
interrupted her gently.

Katherine
dropped her eyes, perhaps to hide the eagerness there.
She knows it is unseemly to gossip
, thought
Elizabeth
,
but she can't help herself.

"Nathaniel's
mother—in—law keeps house for them since his mother passed on," Katherine
volunteered, her voice trailing away reluctantly. With a nervous smile, she
looked up at
Elizabeth
.

"Did
my brother say where he was going?"
Elizabeth
asked suddenly.