The Endless Forest (55 page)

They talked about stables and horses and hens, and if Martha wanted a cow or would rather buy milk; whether she would put in a garden and if she needed a washhouse, and if she might want a girl to come up from the village to help. It took a lot of work to keep a household going, and it was work she hadn’t turned her hand to in quite some time.

“Which reminds me,” she said. “I need to get pennyroyal ointment from Hannah.”

“You can’t be bit already,” Daniel said. “The blackfly won’t be out for a while yet.”

“Well, you neglected to tell them,” Martha said. “Because I’ve got bites on my ankles and they itch.”

Daniel said, “I’ve got some bear grease that would do the trick.”

She laughed at him. “I hope you can do better than that.” And: “Daniel Bonner, you are hatching some kind of plan. I see it on your face.”

She didn’t protest very hard, and if she was entirely truthful with herself, she had half been hoping for something like this. For Daniel to lead her
off the path into the woods, where they’d be out of reach and could really leave everything else behind for a short while at least.

The horses began to huff as the climb got steeper.

“Where are we going?”

“Wait and see.”

Martha didn’t know the mountain as Daniel did, and she doubted she could ever learn as much, even if she dedicated every waking hour to that pursuit for the next twenty years. He seemed to recognize every tree and rock, and found his way without even the vaguest trace of a trail. At times he held branches out of her way and then she could see how pleased he was to be showing her the places he loved. For her part she knew better than to ask a lot of questions. Woodsmen preferred silence in the bush, and she understood why. Though the horses made noise enough, the birdsong continued all around them and small things rustled, unimpressed by their presence.

Daniel pulled up and let her come next to him. Martha was about to ask him what he meant her to see, but from that spot it was too obvious. It looked as though someone had taken a dull knife and hacked a wedge out of Hidden Wolf. A rift had been gouged out of the forested mountainside, from a point near the top all the way down. Trees lay scattered like a child’s building blocks tossed hastily aside. The stark white of the exposed trunks worked like a thousand bone-deep slashes.

She hadn’t thought it could be so very bad, but now she realized that things could have been so much worse. If the main thrust of the flood had come a half mile farther west, the whole village would have disappeared. And, she supposed, that might still happen one day.

They sat there for five minutes, and in that time Daniel said nothing. He trusted her to understand for herself. It was a gift he gave to her.

In the cool of the woods, surrounded once again by growing things in every shade of green, she tried to imprint it on her mind so that she would be able to look back at this short time and remember the feel of it, no matter how old she might grow.

It wasn’t until she heard the waterfalls that Martha realized Daniel had taken her by a roundabout way to Lake in the Clouds. She had thought they might spend the rest of the day alone, but to her own surprise she
realized she was glad to be here. And it was right to have come; these people were Daniel’s family too.

The falls kicked up a cool breeze as they came into the clearing; the sun played off the water and cast rainbows into the clouds of mist. The horses trotted forward and Hopper, who had slept for much of the ride, began to squirm in his basket. Daniel leaned over and lifted the pup out as he dismounted. Hopper wiggled out of Daniel’s grasp and galloped off toward the lake, skidding right over the edge and landing with a splash.

“He’s got the idea,” Daniel said, helping Martha dismount. But then doors were opening and people were coming out to greet them. Runs-from-Bears, Susanna and Blue-Jay, Annie and Gabriel. To Martha it seemed as if they were expected, and when she looked at Daniel he nodded.

“Annie wanted it to be a surprise,” he said. “They wanted to give us a wedding supper too.”

Martha struggled for a moment with a flash of discomfort—she had never liked being the center of attention—and with regret that she would not be able to follow Hopper into the lake.

The pup climbed out of the water and shook himself.

Daniel said, “You’ll get your turn, girl, and soon.”

Watching her for the next half hour, Daniel saw that Martha was pleased and touched and terribly embarrassed. Somehow her shyness stirred him. She could stand up to cruelty and keep her composure—her upbringing had taught her that skill—but she found it hard to believe that these people would simply accept her as one of their own. She would learn to trust in time, and he was looking forward to proving it to her.

It wasn’t individuals who put her off. She didn’t hesitate when Runs-from-Bears took her hands and leaned over to talk to her. Bears frightened a lot of people; he was a big man, battle-scarred, his face and arms tattooed; Daniel had seen men go pale when Bears looked at them in a certain way. But with his own people—with Martha, now—there was nothing of that in him. His manner was almost courtly.

Blue-Jay was saying, “Good thing he was smart enough to get you in front of a judge before you had time to reconsider.”

“What he did,” Gabriel said, “was inspired, I have to admit it. Kept her walking after the ice-out party until she could hardly put one foot
ahead of the other. At some point she was so desperate to sit down she just gave in and said yes.” He elbowed Annie, but she elbowed him right back so that he jumped.

“Don’t pay them any mind,” Susanna said to Martha. “They must have their fun at Daniel’s expense, but if they know what’s good for them, they will leave thee out of it. Now Annie and I have work to do.”

“I’ll come help,” Martha said, and Susanna caught Daniel’s eye.

“What?” Martha said, looking between them. Gabriel was trying not to smile, and not succeeding very well.

“We’ve got something to do before we eat, you and me,” Daniel said. “We’ll be back in an hour.”

She followed Daniel out of the clearing, back into the forest and uphill, but what she really wanted to do was very different. Martha wanted to sit down just where she was and go to sleep.

In Manhattan she had had a reputation for restlessness, and it was true that she disliked sitting in one place for very long. She was a great walker, and did as much of it as the weather and common sense allowed. Her friends saw this habit as odd, but not unexpected, given the fact that Martha had grown up on the edge of the endless forests where things were not exactly civilized.

But in the last few days her stamina had been tested, and she wondered how much longer she could hold up. So the question was very simple: If she were simply to sit down exactly where she stood, if she demanded a slower pace or refused the walk altogether, what then?

Daniel might laugh at her, or listen to her, or try to persuade her that yes, she really did want to be trudging up Hidden Wolf in the heat of the late afternoon, after three days of monumental upheaval. She had no doubt that he would find it very easy to talk her into any number of things she had never considered before. It had something to do with his voice and the way he used it.

They were passing through plantations of beech and maple, yew and wild cherry. There was still enough mud to give her pause now and then, but she was determined to manage on her own.

They came out onto a rocky plateau and the world opened itself like a gift. The sky was so bright that Martha had to squint until her eyes would focus.

She had grown up here, but still the view took her breath. The endless forests stretched out as far as the eye could see, a world of trees too large to comprehend. The mountains marched off toward the horizon, and while she knew that there was indeed something on the other side of them—Canada, to be exact—at this moment that seemed improbable.

The sound of the falls was quite distinct, and suddenly Martha knew where they were going. The caves under the falls, of course. Where, according to Jennet, sooner or later all Bonner women fell. It was an odd turn of phrase, one that could mean many different things. She tried to convince herself of that fact. The effort kept her occupied while they made their way along the ridge and came finally to a great outcropping of rock.

They were standing just feet away from the point where the water came out of the mountain to fall, first unrestricted and then layer by layer into the lake below. The pulse of the water in the rock beat like a heart.

It seemed that they would have to make their way down a loose and very steep path. Martha remembered now that Daniel had produced moccasins this morning and suggested they’d be more comfortable than her fancy city shoes.

“You just happen to have moccasins sitting around?”

“Borrowed them from Ma,” he said. “Until Annie has time to make you a pair.”

So he had been planning this yesterday when they sat in his parent’s parlor. It seemed Daniel had the habit of making plans and keeping them to himself until the last minute. She didn’t know whether to be pleased or put out about that in general, but at this moment she was overcome with affection and happiness; he had planned this, for her.

“I’ll go first,” Daniel said.

“Good,” Martha said, a little breathlessly. “You can catch me.”

He winked at her. “Always, darlin’.”

A bolt had been driven into the bedrock, with a heavy rope coiled beside it. Daniel threw the rope down the incline and then started after it. He moved easily, never losing purchase or even hesitating about where best to put a foot.

Now was not the time to lose confidence. When he was just out of sight, she started down after him.

When the rope ended they were standing on a small plateau. Daniel pointed out a fissure in the rock face, and then he simply disappeared into it. Martha counted to ten and followed him. The cave opened directly onto the falling water, which acted like a curtain that admitted light to dance on the walls.

It was a simple cave, with nothing to mark it but the wolf skulls that had been wedged into a cleft in one wall. At the back, where the shadows were deeper, she could see that a boulder stood like an open door and that from there, a passageway led deeper into the mountain. Daniel put his ear to her mouth and raised his voice.

“Another cave, just about this size, but quieter. Do you want to see it?”

But of course there was little to see; they had no fire to light a torch, and here the light from the falls did not penetrate.

His voice echoed. “We used to store furs up here, and food. Back in the old days when the mountain still belonged to my grandfather Middleton.”

She knew that story, and she knew too that her grandfather Southern had a role to play in it that was nothing to be proud of.

“You don’t store things here now?”

“Sometimes we do. Not just now.”

“It must be very cold here in the winter.”

“There’s a pile of furs here at that time of year, some basic provisions. We’ll have to come in January and you can see for yourself.”

Martha didn’t doubt his word, but at this moment perspiration was running down between her breasts, and she was glad to get back to the cool breeze in the foremost cave. Daniel came up behind her and she said what was on her mind.

“Everybody knows we’re here.” And bit her lip, because it sounded so girlish, almost coy even to her own ear. She tried again.

“They think we’re—we’re—”

“Most probably,” Daniel said. His tone was patient and easy and infuriating.

She leaned back against him and let out a sigh. “I suppose that’s part and parcel of being married. But I don’t like it.”

Daniel’s hand came around and opened in front of her. On the flat of his palm was a ring. The band was gold, its flat surface incised with a twining vine and tiny leaves and flowers.

“I hope you’ll like this.”

Martha drew in a sharp breath and nodded. It wasn’t until Daniel had put the ring on her finger that she could take her eyes away long enough to look at him.

“It’s beautiful. How—where—”

“Joshua does a little fine work when he has the time,” Daniel said. “He made this a few months ago. If you want something different he can do that too, but not until the rebuilding is finished.”

“I like this one,” Martha said, twirling it on her finger to demonstrate that it was a little too big. “Maybe I’ll grow into it.” And she laughed at her own joke.

“Joshua will adjust it for you. You want me to take it for now, so it doesn’t get lost?”

“That’s not likely,” she said.

“It is if we go swimming. You did say you wanted to swim, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but don’t we need to get back for supper?”

“We’ll take the shortcut,” he said.

Daniel walked right up to the edge, where the cave floor dropped away into the falling water, and held out his hand. She went to him, but cautiously. Her skin rose in goose bumps all along her back.

“We’d have plenty of time if we started from here.” He was looking at her in a particularly calculating way, and in that moment she realized what he was suggesting.

“You don’t mean it,” she said. Shocked and excited too.

“Oh, I mean it.”

“It must be dangerous.”

“We all do it. I’ve been jumping into the lake from here since Da taught me to swim.”

“What if
I
can’t swim?”

He looked at her.

“All right, I can swim. But—but—” She laughed. “Whatever they imagine us doing, this is not it.”

“Nothing predictable about this, you’re right.”

She shivered, and he squeezed her hand.

“We don’t have to,” Daniel said. And the truly wonderful thing was, he meant it. He would not be angry or disappointed if she told him she couldn’t, for any reason at all.

“I want to,” Martha said.

“Well, then,” he said. “Strip down to your chemise.”

That brought her up short, and he cocked his head at her.

“My chemise?”

“Long skirts won’t do much for your backstroke. You reconsidering?”

Daniel’s thumb was stroking the indentation at the juncture of palm and wrist, and somehow that made it all the harder to order her thoughts.