Into the Wilderness (96 page)

"I
did not." He met her gaze without flinching. "Is there anything else
you have not told me about? Landholdings in
Albany
? A peerage in
Scotland
?"

He
shook his head.

"So."
She looked between them. "You two did manage to deceive my father in this,
that much cannot be denied. He could legally claim the profit from the mine
before title was transferred—”

“But
only legally," said Hawkeye. "The way I look at it, the money that's
come out of that mine is part of what should have been paid to the
Kahnyen’keháka for the land."

Elizabeth
looked at them, dressed simply in worn buckskin, with work—hardened hands. They
did not live easy lives; they had not profited personally from the mine. There
was nothing of greed in what they had done, but there was something of pride.

"Yes,
I see your point," she said finally, and there was a soft flicker in
Nathaniel's face: relief and gratitude.

"And
given the fact that my father found it within his heart to publicly accuse me
of murder—" Elizabeth held up the newspaper. "I cannot find it in
mine to be outraged for him."

Nathaniel
held out his hand to her. "Then let's go and settle this business."

"One
thing more," she said, holding back.

The
men froze.

"With
the gold and the silver, there will be quite a lot of cash available to us. I
will have a say in how it is spent."

Hawkeye
glanced at his son, and then nodded. "That's fair enough."

"Then
let us go," said Elizabeth, pulling up her hood. "It promises to be
an eventful day."

Elizabeth
found Anna's trading post just as she had left it: crowded with men, and
overwhelmed with the smells of human sweat, tobacco and wood smoke, wet wool
and bear grease, pickled onions and drying venison. The walls were still
covered with signs and advertisements, and Anna was in her usual place behind
the counter, rummaging head and shoulders deep in a cubbyhole. Poised at the
open door, Elizabeth saw the assembly turn their attention to her and fall
silent, one by one. With her cape wrapped around her and water dripping from
the brim of her hood, she made sure to meet every eye she could catch. There were
only ten men, half of whom she could name. But no sign of Axel, or of Jed
McGarrity, the two she would have most liked to have seen.

Leaning
on the back wall, his arms crossed on his chest, was Moses Southern. He was
half—turned toward the much smaller Claude Dubonnet, who for
Elizabeth
would always first be Dirty—Knife,
although she could not call him that. He had straightened up to stare at her
from the newspaper he had spread out over the pickle barrel.
Elizabeth
thought briefly of offering to read
it out loud to them, for she had no doubt what it was that had captured their
interest. More of Julian's work, she was sure.

Nearby,
Archie Cunningham was trimming his fingernails with a hunting knife, flicking
the parings alternately into the fire and at young Liam Kirby's ears. Curled
almost double over the draughts board, Liam took no notice. His brother Billy
sat opposite with his back to
Elizabeth
, talking
to a trapper
Elizabeth
did not recognize while he waited for Liam to make his move.

Liam
stuck out a grubby finger to move his game piece, looked up, and jumped at the
sight of her. His left hand flew up toward his cap, catching the corner of the
board and upending it with a smack. Red and black game pieces went skittering
over the floor.

"You
goddamn puppy," said Billy in a conversational tone. At that moment he
caught sight of
Elizabeth
,
and his mouth snapped shut.

Moses
Southern hawked, a long, dragging sound, and then without looking away from
her, sent a stream of tobacco into the bucket that served as a spittoon.

"I'll
warn you once more, Southern," Anna said, bringing her head out of the
cubbyhole. "A drop of that mess on my clean floor and you'll mop it up
yourself."

"Hello,
Anna,"
Elizabeth
said.

"Well,
Elizabeth
.
About time you showed your face." Anna leaned over the counter to give
Charlie LeBlanc a good—natured slap on the crown of his head.

"Take
your eyes off my candy jar and say how—do, Charlie. That's Mrs. Bonner come in,
the one you made moon eyes at all winter. If you ever thought to come to church
you would have had the chance to welcome her home last Sunday."

The
young man flushed a deep red and flashed a reluctant grin in Elizabeth's
direction, so that the newest gap in his teeth became evident. "Miz
Elizabeth." He bobbed his head.

"It's
good to see you, Charlie."

As if
they had been woken from a trance, many of the other men tipped their caps in
Elizabeth
's direction and
mumbled greetings.

"You
come down the mountain alone?" called Moses Southern, his raspy voice
carrying through the room.

"And
why would I not?"
Elizabeth
asked him with a small smile.

Moses
shrugged. "Just last week Asa Pierce got killed by a bear up on Hidden
Wolf. Lots of trouble out there in the bush for folks who don't pay
attention."

"Lots
of trouble," echoed Claude Dubonnet, rubbing a finger alongside his nose.

If you only knew how much trouble
,
Elizabeth
thought,
touching a finger to the chain that disappeared into her bodice.

"Oh,
be quiet, you old gasbag." Axel appeared at the rear door, scratching at
his beard. "Asa Pierce didn't have the common sense God gave a goat,
although he was a good enough blacksmith. Hello there, Miz Elizabeth."

"Are
you well, Mr. Metzler?"

"Ja,
sure. Fine, fine. My joints are hollerin' loud enough to be waking the dead on
rainy days like this one, but you know what they say. Live long and drink deep,
and sooner or later you'll get your share of the dregs. Anna, you got time to
be helping this woman, or you want me to come behind your counter and see to
it?" Axel settled with a deep sigh of satisfaction into the chair nearest
the hearth, a position which put him just between Moses Southern and Billy
Kirby, both of whom glowered at Axel openly.

"I'll
manage fine, I always have," Anna said. "Now, what can I help you
with, Elizabeth? I expect you've got a long list. Takes more than four legs in
a bed to start a marriage out right, after all."

The
purpose of this trip had not been shopping, but as
Elizabeth
had no idea how long it would be
before Hawkeye and Nathaniel would appear with their charges in tow, she set
her mind to the many things large and small missing from the new cabin. In
short order a small hill of dry goods had been piled on the counter, with a new
kettle and a large sack of goose feathers at the center. By the time the women
had begun to discuss fabric for aprons and sheets, they had long lost the
attention of the room. Slowly the noise level returned to normal, and
Elizabeth
began to enjoy
the process of purchasing things for her new home, although she was always
aware of Moses Southern behind her.

Anna
had just pulled out a tin washtub for
Elizabeth
's
inspection when the door opened. With a rush of cool air the skin rose on the
nape of her neck, and she raised her eyes slowly.

The
judge was there, with Julian hovering at his right elbow.

Elizabeth
had
never before spent much time away from her brother, and to her surprise she
found that she had missed him, even as he stood before her with his derisive
half grin. Hawkeye had obviously dragged him out of his bed, for his eyes were
reddened and he was unshaven; neither had he taken the time to comb his hair,
and his hair fell over his right eye. Elizabeth was reminded of him at
thirteen, when he had not yet learned to hide his anger or his intelligence
behind a mask of equal parts lethargy and mockery.

"Hello,
Father, Julian." She pulled her cloak closer around herself, glad of its
protection.

"Lizzie,"
said her brother.

Before
her, she saw her father's expectant face, and close behind him, Hawkeye
watchful and waiting. Her father hung back as he always did, hoping that
someone else would fix this problem he had created. Hawkeye was silent because
he knew the trick of waiting until he was needed. But it was Julian who
concerned her now, Julian who thought that he could somehow talk her out of her
marriage, her new home, her freedoms, to come back to them. She wondered if he
missed her, too, or if the lost mountain was all that interested him.

He
said, "To have lowered yourself to such tricks, are you not ashamed?"

Elizabeth
pulled the rumpled newspaper from inside her cloak, and held it out to him.

"This
is a strange coincidence," she said. "I was about to ask you the very
same question, little brother."

* *
*

Nathaniel
had never thought much of the Reverend Mr. Witherspoon, but he found reason
this morning to revise his opinion. Kitty had flatly refused to accompany him
to the trading post; only her father's intercession had worked to change her
mind. Word of Richard's whereabouts and health—which she demanded immediately,
but which Nathaniel would not supply—were only to be had if she came along with
him. Mr. Witherspoon helped her wrap herself in a light cloak that could not
conceal a six— or seven—month pregnancy, and the three of them made their way
to the village in the rain.

Kitty
was silent, after she found that Nathaniel would not answer questions. This
left Mr. Witherspoon to inquire after
Elizabeth
in manner which managed to be both polite and severe.

"She
has broken her father's heart."

"She
has settled all of her father's considerable debts," amended Nathaniel.

"I
hope she does not already regret her hasty actions."

"You
can ask her yourself." Nathaniel pointed out. "She's waiting for
us." From the corner of his eye he saw Kitty start. Her face took on a set
look, as if this news were unexpected, but quite welcome.

"If
she would only apologize for the injury she has inflicted, I am sure the judge
would forgive her and take her back into his home. The man is all kindness,
when he is well treated."

Nathaniel
almost laughed out loud. He looked at the clergyman at some length, the smudged
spectacles sitting crooked on the long, reddened nose, the hollow cheeks and
pale mouth. Watery blue eyes met his own, and in them he saw that it was
hopeless: the man wore blinders and would never even know it.

"My
wife has a home," he said simply. "She don't need the judge's
charity."

"Father,"
said Kitty sharply. "Can't you see that your arguments are wasted on him?
Sue a beggar and you will profit nothing but fleas, after all."

Now
Nathaniel did laugh, as he was sorely tempted to ask her what kind of fleas she
had profited from Julian Middleton. His laughter hit her hard; he saw her color
up, her eyes flashing anger and tears.

He
had grown up with Kitty Witherspoon and it was not the first time he had made
her cry, in the normal rough way older boys had with little girls. But Kitty in
tears made Nathaniel feel thirteen again, which in turn made him think of his
mother.

Cora
had taken Kitty on when Mrs. Witherspoon died. Her father had not known what to
do with a little girl, and so it was Cora who had taught Kitty how to sew and
cook, and who had listened patiently to her stories, answered her questions.
Nathaniel could hardly remember a time in those years when she had not spent
all or part of every day on Hidden Wolf.

Then
Richard had come back to
Paradise
. It was
Kitty who had brought him up to
Lake
in the
Clouds the first time, understanding that Cora would make room for him.
Stray cats found their way to the kindest
heart in the village
, his father had commented on coming home from a long
hunt to find three children at his table instead of one. But he hadn't minded,
not if it pleased Cora to have them around her.
My mother could have taught you something about charity
, Nathaniel
thought, as Witherspoon carried on about the duties of children.

Nathaniel
should have been angry with Kitty; she had caused trouble and was willing to
cause more. But he had his mother at his elbow now, and he saw Kitty as she
would have: still a girl at heart and mind, her slender back bent with the
weight of a child who brought her no joy, fathered by a man who would never
claim it, or her. Suddenly Kitty was once again the almost—sister she had been,
and Nathaniel was overwhelmed with anger at Julian Middleton, and at Richard
Todd as well, who had offered her a home and his name as he would make any
business deal. She deserved better and he was tempted to tell her so. But he
also knew that her own anger was as deep and unfathomable as her sorrow, and
that words—his words—would not help right now. Having learned not only charity
but the value of a well—timed silence from his mother, Nathaniel kept his
thoughts to himself.