Into the Wilderness (92 page)

"I'm
going to find my brother and Moses Southern," Liam announced. "They'll
want to know."

Julian
raised one eyebrow. "No doubt," he agreed. "But perhaps you'd be
so good as to hold off on that until tomorrow."

The
boy pulled up short. "But they'll want to go up there right away, see if
they can talk some sense into them."

Axel
snorted a laugh. "Ja, now that is something I'd like to see, myself, Moses
Southern talking sense to the schoolteacher."

"Somebody
needs to do it," Liam said, defensively.

"Nonsense,"
Axel muttered, returning to his chore. "Have you forgot Nathaniel and
Hawkeye? Ja, you're fools, all of you, if you think you can scare them off that
mountain. I want no part of any of it."

Liam
stood red—faced, twisting his cap in his hands, and threw a questioning look to
Julian. "If there's a mine, it's yours, by rights."

Axel
said, "And you're going to march up there right now and tell Hawkeye that,
are you? You so eager to have another talk with the man, after
Albany
?"

The
boy's high color drained suddenly. "I ain't lied about Miz Elizabeth. I
never said a word about her, since then, and I won't, either."

"Amazing,
how convincing Hawkeye can be with a hickory stick in his hand." Axel
laughed.

Julian
clucked his tongue. "You scare the boy, Axel, but you know that he has a
point. But you are right, too, of course, at least in part." He paused to
take a deep swallow. "It won't do any good to go up the mountain and fling
accusations. I know my sister. She'll close ranks with the Bonners and you'll
get nothing from her but a lecture. Axel," he finished, "I find ale
is not enough to wet my gullet if I am compelled to make such long speeches. Break
out the schnapps, will you?"

Liam
said, "But we can't just give up the mountain. And there's the wood, and
the hunting—”

“Indeed."
Julian got up finally in pursuit of his schnapps.

"What
do you think we should do, then? Will you come along and talk to my
brother?"

"Oh,
do be serious. I have no intention of running off into the night to put heads
together with Billy Kirby or Moses Southern. No, I will have a conversation
with my father tomorrow and see what might be done in a more civilized manner.
In the meantime, if any of those men want my advice, I'll be here," Julian
said, lifting his glass. "In serious contemplation."

* * *

Elizabeth
wondered, at first, if she were dreaming. In the light of the moon she saw
before her not just the familiar shape of the cabin at
Lake
in the Clouds, but a second one, similar in shape, set back and to one side.
She had come to a complete halt on the path, unable to credit what her senses
told her.

"I
was keeping it for a surprise," Nathaniel said beside her. "Didn't
know if they'd be able to finish before we got back, anyway."

Hannah
was jumping up and down in excitement, yanking on Elizabeth's arm. "Do you
like it? Do you like it? There's curtains and real glass, and bookshelves and a
desk and a bedstead—"

The
tears stinging in her eyes were happy ones, but Elizabeth blinked hard anyway,
determined to banish them. She nodded at the little girl and smiled.

"She
likes it fine," Nathaniel said, his hand on the crown of Hannah's head.

"I
like it very much," Elizabeth confirmed. "Is it for the three of us,
then?"

"That
it is, Boots," Nathaniel said. "And room for more to come. It ain't
exactly Oakmere, but I'm hoping it'll serve, just the same."

"It
will serve all the better for not being Oakmere."

"What's
Oakmere?" Hannah asked.

"The
house where I was raised," Elizabeth said. "I'll tell you all about
it."

The
door to the closer cabin stood open now. Nathaniel squeezed
Elizabeth
's shoulder and then headed off
toward his father. Behind Hawkeye, the rest of them stood at the door, their
faces lost in shadow: Falling—Day, Many-Doves , and Chingachgook, on
Runs-from-Bears' arm.

"Come
on," Hannah said, tugging at her sleeve, and then skipping ahead.

"You
look as surprised as I am," Elizabeth said to Robbie as they followed. "You
didn't know?"

"Weel,
lassie,
surprise
wouldna be a word
I'd use, masel'. It's awfu' mild, if ye ken what I mean. It cow pit me on my
doup."

Elizabeth
stifled a laugh. "Pardon me?"

"Pardon
my exuberance, lass. I said, it threw me doon on my behind. Ye dinna mind,
then, that he had ye a cabin built wi'oot asking' ye first?"

She
squeezed his arm. "I do not mind one little bit," she said. "In
fact, I could not be more pleased."

Robbie
shook his head, reaching down to pat Treenie distractedly. "I dinna
understand why you wee cabin should please ye when the schoolhoose broucht doon
yer wrath, but then I've lamed tae leave sleepin' dogs be. Run along, lass.
Canna ye see that they're waitin' for ye?"

Elizabeth
hesitated, looking up into Robbie's kind eyes. "You come, too."

He
shook his head. "I wilna dawdle, lass. But it's the new guidwife that they
want. Gae on wi' ye, then."

She
went up on tiptoe to kiss the soft cheek. "You've been a good friend to me
in these past months, Robin MacLachlan, and I will not forget it."

Before
he had time to blush again,
Elizabeth
had set off.

After
a morning of unpacking and messages and stories back and forth—in which only
the minimum had been told, and the rest promised—Elizabeth stood in front of an
open chest in the bedroom of the new cabin with only Hannah in attendance.
There was not a lot of furniture: a bedstead, a tick mattress, pillows and a
quilt, a straight chair, and this chest. Full of things that had belonged to
Nathaniel's mother and his first wife.

"I
remember this one," said Hannah, gently touching a homespun skirt dyed a
deep indigo.

Elizabeth
hesitated. She did not relish wearing Sarah's clothes. She did not even know if
they would fit her. But if she were to call on her father, she could not
realistically go in Kahnyen’keháka dress.

Nathaniel
came in, and
Elizabeth
saw how the child's whole posture changed. He touched her lightly in greeting,
his fingers barely brushing her shoulder and then her cheek.

"Your
grandmother is looking for you," he said to her. "There's corn that
needs grinding."

She
sighed audibly.

"Come
back when you are finished," Elizabeth said. "I would like to swim
later, if there's time."

"Can
you swim?" Hannah asked, looking at her father rather than at
Elizabeth
.

"I
taught her, the same as I taught you," Nathaniel said. "Go on,
now."

There
were windows on two walls: one looked over the waterfall and gorge, and the
other looked down the glen to the other cabin. They watched Hannah's long legs
flashing as she ran, and Elizabeth laughed. "I don't think I've ever seen
her walk at a normal pace."

But
Nathaniel was looking down into the trunk and seemed not to have heard this.
Something passed over his face: regret, perhaps.

"You're
about the same size as Many-Doves ," he said. "She could lend you a
dress until we fetch your things." His arm stole around her waist, and
Elizabeth
leaned into him
thankfully.

"When
should we go do that?"

"There's
no reason to waste time about it, Boots," he said dryly. "In the
evening, then, if that will suit." He paused, as if wondering how much he
should say.

"I
believe that I can handle my father," Elizabeth said, anticipating his
worries. "We have done nothing illegal, after all. And we are certainly
not the first ever to marry without a father's permission."

He
let out a small laugh. "But it's more than that, and you know it,
Elizabeth. The whole village is involved."

While
she had been exploring the new cabin and talking to Falling—Day and Many-Doves
, Nathaniel had been talking with the men. The sweet smell of Chingachgook's
pipe still clung to him.

"Tell
me."

She
could feel his thoughts moving away from her as he stared out of the window.
The mid—afternoon light played on the waterfall, throwing reflections over the
walls.

"Some
of them don't want us here."

"We
knew that long ago, Nathaniel."

"Yes,
but there's more to it now. Billy Kirby and the others have been spreading
rumors. Some folks are pretty riled."

She
waited, and when he saw she would wait until he had told her all of it, he
sighed.

"They've
been saying that Sky—Wound—Round will be moving all of Barktown up here. That
when he does, there won't be any game left for the whites and no woman will be
safe in her bed. That there's a mine hidden on the mountain that we didn't tell
the judge about."

"A
mine?" Elizabeth asked, incredulous. "Surely, Nathaniel, once they
see that this is all nonsense, they will leave us in peace."

He
grunted. "But in the meantime," he said. And didn't finish his sentence.

"Tell
me the rest."

Nathaniel
rubbed his eyes. "There was more trouble with trap lines, tampering and
out—and—out thievery before the season ended. Somebody took a shot at Bears
while he was hunting. Falling—Day set a quarter acre of corn and beans down
next to the new schoolhouse and last week it was put to the torch. For a
start." The muscle in his cheek fluttered with frustration and anger.

Elizabeth
stared at him, feeling suddenly ill. Nathaniel took her by the shoulders. "Promise
me you won't wander off on your own without one of the men nearby. And don't
let Hannah go off, either."

She
nodded.

"Are
you scared?"

"Mostly
I am angry," she said. "But yes, a little. Nathaniel, we can't hide. We
have to live our lives."

"So
we do. And we will." His fingers plucked at the tendrils of hair on her
neck. She put her forehead against him and breathed in his smell.

"I
don't care about the village," she said. "I don't care about anything
but being here with you. I can't tell you what this means to me, Nathaniel.
This place of our own."

"A
bed of our own, too," he said, and she could feel his smile. "And a
door of our own, that closes," he continued, reaching behind himself to do
just that and then coming back to her, his hands moving up to seek out the bare
skin of her neck. He bracketed her face with his fingers. "Once I promised
you time to lie abed all day, do you remember?"

She
did. But between kisses, she asked where the other men were.

"Busy,"
Nathaniel muttered.

"This
is insane," she said against his mouth.

"What?"

"This
constant need to be with you. It is not rational."

"Maybe
not," said Nathaniel, his mouth at her ear making her skin rise. "But
it's the right kind of insanity."

""Love
is the noblest frailty of the mind,""
Elizabeth
whispered, and Nathaniel pulled
back from her with a laugh.

"You
trying to quote me out of my intentions?"

"Oh,
no," she said, pulling him back to her. "Nothing so rash as
that."

She
let herself be taken down to the bed, to their bed; she let him please himself,
because it pleased her to do so. And
Elizabeth
discovered once again what it was like to be so caught up in this man that she
thought she could easily die of love, and not regret her last breath.

* * *

Nathaniel,
half asleep, lifted his head. The constant rush of the waterfall dampened other
noise, even with the window sash closed, but she knew by the look on his face
that he was hearing something. He had been stroking her back, and his hands
stilled.

Elizabeth
stilled, too, and then she heard it, very faint:

"Hellooo
the house!"

"That's
Curiosity!"

"Aye."
He yawned. "She'll have a message from your father."

Elizabeth
groaned, grabbing for her clothes. "How did he know?"

"Somebody
saw us on the way in, of course." He stretched, reaching out to touch her,
but she was already gone.

After
some frantic rearrangement of her clothing and hair,
Elizabeth
rushed out onto the porch and down
the stairs, pulling on her moccasins as she went. There, Galileo greeted her
with a sweep of his hat and a bow and then did the same for Nathaniel, who had
appeared on the porch behind her.