The Blacksmith's Daughter: A Mystery of the American Revolution (8 page)

Joshua extended his hand in Betsy's
direction.
 
"Betsy, I have the
pleasure of introducing you to Uhbeleduh Duthlwuh, sister to your
grandmother.
 
I'm proud to claim Betsy
as the true daughter of my brother, your sister's son, Ayukapeta Hokolen Econa,
and Nagchoguh Hogdee."

Nagchoguh Hogdee: Paper Woman, the
name given Sophie by the Creek for all those years of printing newspapers.
 
Betsy fumbled her petticoat in both
hands.
 
Her curtsy felt clumsy.
 
"Madam."

Laughing Eyes turned a gaze full of
kindness and humor on Joshua.
 
"She
has indeed been raised among Whites."

Hardly a compliment.
 
Betsy tensed even more.

Joshua's smile was warm with
inclusion.
 
"Hear what she has to
say, Grandmother."

Laughing Eyes regarded Betsy, her
expression calm, and Betsy understood herself the object of the matron's
undivided attention.
 
She recalled
reading somewhere that Queen Elizabeth of England had focused on valued
visitors the same way, making them feel of merit to earn her audience.

Humbled, she took a deep
breath.
 
"Yesterday morning, my
uncle, David St. James, was hiding in my henhouse."
 
Tiny movement in the matron's lips told her
Laughing Eyes read the depth of the field, and there would be no
subterfuge.
 
"He implied that the
Lower Creek in East Florida rescued him and my parents from the redcoats.
 
He was headed to Williamsburg to hide and
said my parents had sought refuge with Cherokee in South Carolina, also to
hide."

"He spoke the truth.
 
Have you told anyone of this encounter
besides Joshua?"

Betsy shook her head.

"Tell no one else."

"Yes, madam."
 
Betsy's heart ached against her
ribcage.
 
Laughing Eyes must know how
nervous she was.
 
"Until my uncle's
visit yesterday morning, I didn't know that Mathias Hale, Ayukapeta Hokolen
Econa, was my father.
 
I haven't spoken
with my mother about him.
 
I've been
raised with grandfathers, stepfathers, and uncles, but I've always known they
weren't my father.
 
I've never had a
father."

Kindness suffused the matron's
brown eyes.
 
"We believe the mother
more important than the father, and the brother and sister of the mother
also.
 
You have been raised with all
three."

"I want to meet my
father."

"I have no doubt the future
holds a meeting for you, but ill shall come if you force it before your father
can arrange it."

Betsy lowered her voice.
 
"I've waited so long.
 
Please tell me where they went."

"You know enough to destroy
them.
 
Hear the timing of Creator, the
all-wise one who urges us to guard our secrets."

Betsy pressed her open palm to her
chest above her heart.
 
"Never
knowing my father gives me great emptiness and sadness.
 
If he's half the man I hear him to be, he
feels empty and sad from never knowing me.
 
Tell me where they've gone, I beg of you, so I may follow them.
 
I won't tell anyone.
 
I swear it."

"How will you gain your
husband's permission to travel?"

Anxiety leaked into Betsy's
voice.
 
"I shall find a way."

Laughing Eyes caught up Betsy's
hands in her own rough, warm, wise-woman hands, and scrutinized her with an unsmiling
face and a gaze that bored into her soul.
 
"Daughter, I sense a great restlessness in you, a fear.
 
Beyond acquainting yourself with your
father, what is your reason for seeking him?"

An answer rose to Betsy's lips,
although she suspected it wasn't quite what the matron had sought.
 
"I carry the first grandchild.
 
I would find a way to unite us before I bear
this baby, even if I have to search the entire South Carolina colony.
 
Please.
 
You understand how important family is."

"A baby."
 
Resolve in Laughing Eyes's face
softened.
 
Her gaze sought Joshua, who
nodded in confirmation.
 
Then she
studied Betsy again.
 
"I assumed
you ripe for the lesson of patience, Daughter, and I thought I saw something
else, something demanding that you answer to yourself."
 
She sighed.
 
"The pull of blood is strong.
 
It can be a noble pull, but it can also be senseless.
 
Even my judgment is affected by it.

"The life within you is the
most precious gift of Creator.
 
I do not
wish you be blinded by the blood pull."
 
Still holding Betsy's hand in one of hers, she extended her other hand
to Joshua, who grasped it.
 
Then she
swept her gaze around to ensure that only Betsy, Joshua, and Standing Wolf were
within hearing.
 
"In the name of
the all-powerful Mother of the earth, I charge both of you to use this
forthcoming knowledge wisely, or you will invite suffering upon us all."

Joshua's face sobered.
 
"Yes, Grandmother."

The inside of Betsy's mouth felt
dry as charcoal.
 
She managed to
swallow.
 
"Yes, Grandmother."

"Keowee," said Laughing
Eyes, her eyes not at all laughing.
 
"They have gone to a place near Keowee.
 
It lies north-northwest of here by some seventy miles.
 
Now may the wisdom of the old ones guide
your lips and feet with this knowledge."

***

Leaves resonated with nocturnes of
birds, and fireflies lilted in the twilight.
 
Joshua dismounted before the print shop and helped Betsy off her
horse.
 
From inside, she heard her six
cousins hollering and thumping about.
 
Joshua, who'd kept quiet most of the trip back except for sharing a few
anecdotes about Mathias, took her hand in his and said low, "Will you go
to South Carolina in search of them?"

She considered her visit to the
Creek village.
 
Ambivalence wound
through her soul again.
 
The Cherokee
village where her parents hid must be similar to the Creek village.
 
How much more comfortable she felt back in
Alton, at Clark's side.
 
Her eagerness
to seek her parents sputtered a bit.
 
"Perhaps."
 
Longing
tugged at Joshua's expression.
 
"Mathias is your only living brother.
 
Will
you
go?"

"I have four children and a —
uh — quarrelsome wife.
 
But she
understands about family."
 
He
released her hand.
 
"If my niece,
daughter to my missing brother, must undertake a journey to South Carolina, I
consider it a matter of honor and duty to accompany her."
 
He bowed.
 
"Likely even with my wife's blessings."

"Ah, Joshua.
 
Thank you."

"Huzzah!
 
It's Cousin Betsy!"
 
Children spewed from the house and pounded
down the steps to encircle Betsy and Joshua.
 
After they'd taken turns hugging her, they focused on him.

"Mr. Joshua, Mama says you and
Betsy are cousins!"

"That makes us your cousins,
too, doesn't it?"

"Hug me!"

"Hug me, too!"

Betsy watched, amused, while her
youngest cousins attempted to leap on Joshua and the eldest boys stood off to
the side grinning, having decided they were too grown up for such a
display.
 
Joshua laughed, at ease with
children swinging off him like monkeys.
 
"Ho, there, one at a time, will you?"

From the front porch came the deep
voice of Susana's giant-of-a-husband, John.
 
"Well, Joshua, welcome to
our
family."
 
The boards on the porch squawked beneath his
weight as he lumbered down the steps.
 
"Looks like Will had a good basis for his long-term friendship with
the le Coeuvres, ho ho ho."
 
The
children hanging on Joshua scattered.
 
John pumped his hand and slapped his back as if Joshua were Betsy's
father.
 
"Stay for supper,
hey?
 
We've plenty of food."

"No, thank you.
 
I must head home for supper."

"Join me at the Red Rock
later, then.
 
I'll buy a round."

Joshua tipped his hat.
 
"Excellent.
 
I shall see you there."
 
With a wink for Betsy, he mounted his horse and rode off, several of the
children waving after him.

"Say, woman, how about a hug
for your uncle?"
 
John reached for
Betsy and hugged her, restraining his usual spine-popping pressure because of
her pregnancy.
 
"You sure you're
expecting?
 
Susana was out to here by
four months."
 
His meaty hand
snagged the shoulder of his eldest son.
 
"Take your cousin's mare back to the stable and rub her down."

"Yes, sir."
 
The youth led Lady May around back.

Betsy spotted Clark trotting his
horse toward them on the dusty street, and she waved.
 
John seized the next older boy.
 
"And you rub down Clark's horse when he gets here."

Clark alighted, pecked Betsy's
cheek, shook John's hand, and submitted to a round of hugs from cousins.
 
After providing a vague response to her
query about his visit that afternoon with the tanner, Mr. Givens, Clark
followed Betsy up the porch steps, preceded by John and four children while the
second eldest boy trudged to the stable with his horse.
 
At the threshold, Clark murmured to Betsy,
"What's this about you being the daughter of an old French spy?"

Gossip in Alton flowed as free as
sand from the river, and was just as common.
 
Betsy wondered whose tongue had wagged the most.
 
No sense in trying to straighten out the
truth with her husband until they had some privacy.
 
She fluttered eyelashes at him.
 
"
Mais oui
!"

He sneaked a moist kiss to her
neck.
 
"Mmm.
 
I cannot wait to hear the
details."
 
He released her and
groaned.
 
"Oh, gods."

Susana had emerged from the dining
room and was bearing down on him with arms flung wide.
 
"Dear, dear, Clark!
 
What an absolute delight to see you again!
 
Do come here.
 
Give your auntie a hug!
 
We have so much to talk about, don't we?
 
Next time you visit, you
will
stay an entire week!"

***

Yawning, Betsy elbowed the stable
door open wider, her lantern pushing back the night inside.
 
"Evening, my lady."
 
Lady May perked up her head with pleasure.
 
Betsy hung the lantern, set down Captain
Arriaga's box, and patted Clark's gelding before reaching for the mare's saddle
blanket.
 
"I'll catch the devil
from Mr. Fairfax on the morrow if I don't show the captain what's in this box."
 
After a day on the road and an evening calculating
business expenses for Susana, she was too tired to walk.

She'd wished for Clark's company,
but he'd been keen to seek the tavern after supper, escape Susana's futile
attempts at justifying a second page of the newspaper, and buy his promised
drinks for Stoddard's patrol.
 
Through
her disappointment, she realized she'd have to explain first why she hadn't
told him the entire truth about the veil and parasol.
 
The business of half-truths had become convoluted, and she wanted
to be done with it, even though the thought of facing Sheffield alone with the
veil and parasol felt ominous.
 
Lady
May, at least, didn't seem to mind accompanying her on the short trip to the
other end of town, so she stroked her horse.
 
"That's my good lass."

Minutes later, she dismounted
before Sheffield's house and secured the mare beside a gelding she recognized
as the one Stoddard had ridden.
 
The
door opened when she stepped onto the front porch, and Finnegan lifted a
lantern to illumine her and the box she carried.
 
"Mrs. Sheridan."
 
Avian screeches and human cheers from a cockfight behind the Red Rock
Tavern reached their ears.
 
Fastidious
concern furrowed the servant's brow.
 
"What are you doing out alone tonight?"