Riverbreeze: Part 3 (30 page)

She smiled warmly and bid them to enter. “I am happy to see you again, Robert.” She said shyly, touching his arm.

“I…uh…” He stammered. “I’m happy to see you too, Makki.” He gestured to her stomach. “Congratulations.”

She caressed her stomach, a soft expression of love coming over her face. “Thank you. Askook and I, very happy.”

He swallowed hard. “Yes. Good, I’m glad.”

“Please, sit.” She gestured for him to take a seat around the fire.

Again he was tempted to run away. He couldn’t sit here and look at her, so beautiful and pregnant with another man’s child. But that was stupid of him. Of course she would be pregnant with another man’s child. She was married, for God’s sake, and so was he. And his wife was pregnant with his child. Elizabeth was angry at him for the moment, but in the end he knew she loved him.

So he decided to stay, but only long enough to eat and rest a little.

And he was glad he did. It was a pleasant time. Makki didn’t harbor any resentment towards him; that special time they had shared was in the past and she was looking forward to the future with her husband and new baby. She asked him if he were happy with his new wife and he said yes and also told her that his wife was expecting also. He asked her if Askook was happy about the baby and she answered yes, but in an oddly, sad tone of voice. “He says he hopes to live long enough to see the baby born…”

That remark shocked Robert and he was about to ask why, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw a quick, sharp movement. It was Owasewas gesturing to Makki, saying something in their sign language.

Robert didn’t understand the literal meaning of the message, but he understood it enough to realize that it was time for him to leave. It was too dangerous to stay any longer. Something was going on here, and he didn’t want to be caught in the village when that meeting broke up.

“I must go now.” He said, standing and gathering his things. “Thank you for your hospitality, Makkitotosimew.” He said formally.

She inclined her head politely. Genuine sadness filled her eyes. “I happy you come today, but do not return. We can never see each other again.”

Robert was shocked to hear her say that, but he agreed. He had thought the last time he was here had been his final visit. He hadn’t anticipated this meeting. But now, he was positive he would never come back to this village again for any reason whatsoever. His friendship with the Powhatan was over. He was saddened by that, but in his heart he had always known this day would come. Hostilities between the Powhatan and the English had been brewing for some time.

“Good bye, Makki.” He said, kissing the back of her hand as if she were an English lady. She deserved that respect, at the least.

* * *

Surprisingly Owasewas accompanied Robert on the journey back, and Robert was glad of that. He probably could have found his way on his own, but if he was being honest with himself, it was comforting having Owasewas with him. He wondered why the Indian remained with him, but he didn’t ask. Last night Owasewas chose to remain silent about his feelings and intentions. Robert didn’t think today would make any difference.

The storm raged on; it even started snowing, only flurries at first, blowing past them at hurricane force speed, then heavier, making it difficult for them to see where they were going and naturally making it impossible for them to speak.

They made it to the forest which gave them shelter against the driving winds and heavy snowfall.

As he once again followed Owasewas at a jog through the woods, he had time to think about all he had learned today. This adventure had failed. He had failed at finding Wesley or Burnett or even finding their shelter. He had failed at obtaining information from Opechancanough about the renegade Indians other than that they were Pamunkey. He wasn’t familiar with the Pamunkey so he couldn’t go to them and demand answers. And frankly, he didn’t want to. He would just have to find another way to catch Wesley and Burnett.

It was interesting though how Opechancanough had treated him. Now that he was away from the village, he could look back on the meeting and see some benefit from it. Something was brewing amongst those savages, something ominous. Robert knew that Opechancanough had orchestrated the first Indian attack in 1622. Was he planning another? He was definitely capable of it, even at his advanced age. Robert shivered suddenly, thinking about that.

And then another frightening thought came to him. That attack had been successful because the savages had pretended to befriend the English, bringing them food and helping them on their farms. Nobody suspected a thing when those savages had arrived at their farms early that morning, just like any other day, and walked into their homes as if they were family, and then attacked them.

Suddenly he looked at Owasewas’ back, wondering if this savage was preparing to betray him, to attack him, to kill him and his family. He had to know now, even knowing that Owasewas could easily kill him right here. And nobody would know and nobody would ever find his body.

“Owasewas!” He shouted, stopping abruptly. He stood still, his heart pounding from exertion, but also from fear.

Owasewas heard, stopped and turned around. “You need to rest?” He asked Robert, another teasing smile on his face but within seconds that smile faded. Robert couldn’t hide the doubt on his face. “Why you look at me like that?”

“I think you know why, Owasewas. I want to know the truth. Tell me, are you going to betray me? Is this all a trick? Are your people planning another massacre?”

Owasewas stiffened in shock, his mouth opening automatically. Clearly Robert had taken him by surprise. But in a matter of seconds, Owasewas took control of himself and closed his mouth, pressing his lips tight together in anger.

“Tell me the truth, Owas.” Robert said, his voice softer, almost resigned.

Owasewas stood proudly and raised his chin. “I not betray you, Robert.” He said firmly. “Why you think I come yesterday and stay with you? I am your friend.” He held his fist over his heart. “I tell truth.”

“I want to believe you, but…” He stopped short. In his heart he really did want to believe Owasewas. He shook his head. “I remember the stories of the first attack—“

“I remember too.” Owasewas interrupted. His voice was hoarse. Suddenly he became impassioned. “My people…lose land…lose life! My people dying! My people angry!”

“I know, Owas. I’m sorry. I can’t stop
my
people from coming and stealing your land and your way of life.”

“I know.” Owasewas said sadly. “I not want to die. Not want to fight.”

“Then stay with me and my family.” Robert said quickly. “We’ll protect you.”

“No.” Owasewas looked away then, his eyes focused on something in the distance…or in the future. When he turned back to Robert he had a sad smile on his face. “I like you, Robert. I
want
to live with you. I see my people dying, going away. But I am warrior. I go with my people and fight.”

Robert stepped forward and put his hand on Owasewas’ shoulder. “When?” He asked softly, looking into his friend’s eyes.

“Not now. I tell you later when.”

“All right.” Robert said, realizing that was the best Owasewas could do. And he was grateful at least for that little bit of information.

“I go back now.” Owasewas said. “Will you be lost?”

Robert smiled at him, cuffing him on the arm. “No, I can find my way from here.” He squeezed Owasewas’ shoulder. “Thank you.” He wanted to say more, but there was a lump in his throat and he also didn’t believe Owasewas would approve of a big display of sappy emotions. After all the man was a warrior.

* * *

On his own now, Robert traveled at a slightly slower pace. He was sorry he had confronted Owasewas, but he had to know. Now he did. He just didn’t know when. But he couldn’t worry about that right now. There were more pressing matters to worry about. Finding Wesley and Burnett had to take precedence.

And then there was another matter on his mind. What to do about Elizabeth. He realized suddenly that he could warn the Matthews on his own. He had hoped to make it home before full dark, but what kind of welcome would he get? Another silent treatment? The sight of her back?

Decision made, he forged onward, bracing himself for the task ahead. By miracle and sheer will he made it to the Matthews place, fighting increasing snow fall, hurricane force winds and freezing temperatures. He didn’t know how long it had taken him, but it felt like he had been walking for days.

Snow was piling up against the side of the log cabin, almost to the height of the small window. He could see light through the cracks of the shutters although he couldn’t see too much of anything else. The sky was the color of lead, the landscape a blur of white. At the front door, he pounded his fist against the wood until his hand ached and even then he kept on pounding. Overhead the roar of the wind through the trees was deafening. He shouted as loud as he could and pounded on the door even harder.

Finally, the door opened and he nearly fell into the house. Timothy and Annabelle were so shocked to see him, they froze for a minute.

And in that minute, disaster struck. There was a loud crack and then a terrible crash. That tree that Elizabeth had dreamt about landed on the back portion of the house, crashing through the roof and bringing down the walls.

Annabelle screamed and screamed and screamed. She covered her head with her hands and moaned. Timothy’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates. And then Annabelle screamed again as she turned to the ruins of her house. “Timmy! Timmeeeee!” She cried in agony.

“Where is your son?” Robert shouted.

“There.” Timothy Sr. said in a dead voice, pointing to the devastation.

And then Annabelle fainted.

* * *

There was nothing else to do, but get them to safety. Robert managed to help them dress warmly in cloaks, hats, gloves and scarves that were kept on pegs on the front wall by the door. He felt like he was dressing wooden dolls, they were that unresponsive.

Again, by some miracle he managed to lead them to Riverbreeze. God was certainly on his side this day. He felt the cold deep in his bones, but he didn’t think the Matthews felt anything. They were numb with shock and grief. They had lost another son, leaving them childless.

The yard was deserted as he expected. Guards weren’t needed during this storm. When he opened the back door, the wind caught it and yanked it right out of his hand. It slammed against the wall, bringing everyone running.

As the three of them staggered in, Jamie moved first to help Robert. “Help them.” He managed to say, gasping for breath. Jamie did, helping Annabelle in while Dolnick came forward to help Timothy Sr.

Robert staggered two more steps into the hall and collapsed. Everything went dark.

When he woke up next, he was in bed, covered up to the neck with piles of quilts. Someone was stroking his hair away from his forehead and wiping his face with a warm cloth. He opened his eyes and blinked. He thought he saw an angel hovering over him. There was a soft peachy glow to her face, a look of love in her beautiful green eyes.

“I was ever so worried.” She said. “I’m so sorry I got angry at you. I don’t hate you, Robert. I love you.” She started to quietly weep. “I love you so much.”

He smiled and whispered, “I love you too, Lily.” And then he slept.

Chapter Forty-Five: Captured

Robert slept for the next sixteen hours. And then he developed a terrible cough and a putrid sore throat. For the next two weeks Elizabeth never left his side, spoon-feeding him willow bark tea, dogwood bark tea, honey water and beef broth which Abigail made up fresh every morning.

That first night had been the worst. Sitting by the bed, watching him sleep like the dead, barely moving, Elizabeth had never felt so guilty in her entire life, or worried, or grateful.

He had gone out because she was angry at him; then he had probably stayed out for the same reason, but then he had warned the Mathews despite the ferocious storm. How could she not love him for that? How could she not be grateful?

Unfortunately, from what the Mathews had told everyone that night, he hadn’t arrived in time to warn them to leave the house, and poor Timothy Jr. had been crushed to death. They were in such a state of grief and shock they never questioned why Robert had come to the house or how he had known. Elizabeth hoped they never would.