The Ghost (27 page)

I should think not, he said firmly, as he helped her put her cloak on. The last of the guests had just left them. If you do, you're very much mistaken. You're far too young to close a door on life. You have at least half your life left, more if you're lucky. It's too soon to end the party. He smiled again and offered her his arm, and she didn't argue with him, but she knew her mind. And to change the subject she asked him about his meeting the next day, and the unrest caused by the Shawnees and the Miamis, and he was immediately drawn into her questions. And he was almost sorry to leave her at Rebecca's. He wished his own children expressed as much interest in what he did, as she did. But they were far more involved in their families, and the social life of Boston. Sarah was much more intrigued by the budding world around them, and it was obvious that she was thrilled to have come to Deer-field.

She thanked him again for the dinner party, and the excellent food. They had had venison, delicately prepared by his Nonotuck cook with vegetables all grown on the farms nearby. And she promised to visit him the next day after his meeting, or in the late afternoon. She was planning to take a ride out into the surrounding country, if she could find someone to ride with her, other than Lieutenant Parker. And the colonel said he would fix it up and urged her to be careful.

When she went inside the little log cabin that Rebecca was so generously sharing with her, she found that Rebecca had already gone to bed, the babies were asleep, the fire was out, the room was cool, and she was too wide awake to undress and go to bed beside Rebecca. She stood outside for a little while, thinking about her ride the next day, and the things that had been said that night at the dinner table, and the fierce-looking Indians she'd seen that afternoon. It made her tremble to think of what an actual war party would look like, and she was grateful she'd never seen one. As fascinated as she was with this part of the world, she had no desire to go west and become a pioneer. That was too rugged a fife, even for her, and she knew she would be content to stay right here in Deerfield.

As she thought about it, she wandered a little way from the house, and decided to get some air. It was quiet all around her, and she knew that she was safe here. Most of the men had gone to bed. The sentries were at the gate, and most of the people in the garrison were sleeping. It was a lovely feeling being there, walking with the snow beneath her feet, looking up at the stars shining brightly above her. It reminded her of what Singing Wind had said about being part of the universe, every person, being, animal was at one with the universe, he had said, and as she looked back to earth again, she gave a tremendous start. There was a man not three feet from her, watching her, his brows knit, his face tense, his entire being poised either in flight or attack, and she could not keep from gasping. It was the leader of the Iroquois delegation she had seen ride into the garrison that afternoon and he had already terrified her once, and now he had done it for a second time. He stood there watching her in total silence as she felt her heart pound. She was not at all sure whether or not he would attack her, but it seemed a definite possibility as he glared at her with, what seemed to her, a look of fury.

There was a long terrifying moment of silence when neither of them moved, and she considered turning and running back to Rebecca's house as fast as she could, but she knew just looking at him that he would outrun her, and she did not want to bring danger to Rebecca and her children. And if she screamed, he might kill her even before someone heard her. There was nothing for her to do but stand her ground and refuse to be frightened, but it was no small task as she saw the jet-black hair flying in the wind, and one long eagle feather flying out behind him. He had a face almost like a hawk, and yet even in its terrifying stark-ness, she was aware of his beauty. And then he startled her even further.

What are you doing here? he asked softly, in perfectly clear English, although she was aware of some kind of an accent.

She was tense and straight as she answered him, never taking her eyes off his, her whole body taut in terror. I am visiting the colonel, she said very distinctly, hoping that the mention of the commander's name would cause him to hesitate before he killed her. She was shaking violently, but she hoped that in the dark, he would not see it.

Why have you come? he asked, as though he were angry that she had come. She was yet one more intruder. She noticed then that his accent sounded almost French, and wondered if he had learned English from the French soldiers years before. Perhaps he was not Iroquois, but Huron.

I came from England, she said in a small, strong voice. I came to find a new life, she said bravely, as though he might understand, though she was sure he wouldn't. But she had not come here to be murdered by one lone Indian under a starry sky in the most beautiful place she'd ever been. She would not let him do this. Just as she had not let Edward kill her.

You don't belong here, he said quietly, and some of the tension in his face eased, but only slightly. It was the oddest exchange she'd ever had, alone in the darkness speaking to this warrior, who was angry that she had come to Deerfield. You should go back where you came. There are already too many white men here. He had seen too clearly for too many years the harm they'd done, but so few people understood that. It is dangerous for you here, you don't understand that, he said, and her knees stopped trembling just a little bit. Why was he saying this to her? Why was he warning her? What business was it of his? And yet the land was his, not theirs, perhaps he did have a right to say it.

I understand, she said quietly. But I have nowhere else now. I have no one, nowhere, no place to go. I love this place. I want to be here. She said it sadly, not wanting to anger him more than she had, yet wanting to let him know how much she loved his country. She had not come just to exploit the land, or take it from him. She had come to give herself to it. That was all she wanted. And he looked at her long and hard and said nothing. And then finally, he asked her one more question.

Who will take care of you? You have no man with you. You cannot live alone here. As though it mattered. It would matter even less if he killed her, but she was almost sure now he wasn't going to. At least she hoped not. What she didn't know was that the whole garrison was talking about her, and this man had heard about her all afternoon and did not approve of her coming, and had said so.

Perhaps I can live alone, she said softly. Perhaps I will find a way to do it. But he shook his head again, always amazed by the stupidity and innocence of the settlers. They thought they could just be here, take the land, and never pay the final price for it. The Indians had died for their land. And the settlers did too, more often than they admitted. A woman alone was sheer insanity. He wondered if she was mad, or just very foolish, but looking at her in the moonlight with her pale face and dark hair beneath the hood of her cloak, she looked almost like a spirit. It was that that he had been staring at when she first saw him. She looked like a ghost to him, a rare vision of beauty, and she had startled him, as he had been walking, thinking about his meeting with the colonel in the morning.

Go back now, he said. You are a fool to be alone here.

She smiled then, and what he saw in her eyes startled him. He was completely unprepared for the passion he saw there. He had only known one woman like her. She was Iroquois ' Oneida ' Crying Sparrow ' the only name he could think of for this woman was White Dove ' but he said nothing. He only watched her. And then, saying nothing at all, knowing she would not dare move until he did, he turned on his heel and left her. She let out a long breath when she saw that he was gone, and she ran all the way back to Rebecca's.

Chapter 14

SARAH TOLD NO one about her encounter with the warrior the night before, for fear that they wouldn't let her venture around the garrison alone again. And she was thrilled to find the colonel had arranged for a scout to take her out riding in the morning. He was a young private, and his commanding officer thought he could be spared for a day of riding with her. He was extremely shy and fairly new to the area, and he wasn't quite sure what she wanted to see. No one had told him what was expected of him, other than to be polite to her, so he asked her, and she said only that she wanted to see the surrounding areas. She said a woman at dinner the night before had mentioned a place called Shelburne, somewhere nearby, and she said it had a lovely waterfall, although at this time of the year, it would be mostly frozen. But as Will Hutchins rode along with her, he said he didn't know it, so they started out, heading north, in a rambling way, and as they rode, Sarah was impressed with the ever more beautiful country, the rolling hills, the denseness of the trees, the deer they saw everywhere. It was like a fairyland, and she felt euphoric as they rode ever farther from Deerfield.

By lunchtime, Will thought they should go back, the sky looked faintly threatening, but they hadn't seen any waterfalls yet, and she wanted to go just a little farther, and as the horses were doing well, and didn't seem tired yet, he agreed to let her. They could still get back by nightfall. So they continued riding.

They ate lunch from their saddlebags when they were hungry, and shortly after two o'clock, they saw it, a spectacular waterfall coming from far above, and at the base of it huge boulders filled with gigantic potholes. And the moment she saw it, Sarah exclaimed excitedly that this was precisely the spot the woman spoke of. She was absolutely sure of it. It was Shelburne Falls. The young soldier was pleased for her, although he was far less interested in it than she was. They had been riding for four hours by then, on a rugged trail, and he was anxious to get back to the garrison by nightfall. He knew the colonel and his commanding officer would be furious with him if any harm came to this woman. And being beyond the garrison walls after dark was something they all knew should be avoided. No matter how peaceful the neighboring Indians were, there was still the occasional mishap, besides which it would be easy enough to get lost in the darkness. And Will scarcely knew the area better than she did. He had only been there since November, and with the heavy snows, they hadn't ventured out much. Unlike the colonel, who was wise to her ways, the boy's commanding officer had been naive enough to believe she just wanted a little exercise and a tour around the garrison on horseback. He had had no idea how intense her desire for exploration was, or how far afield it would lead them. They had traveled for nearly twelve miles, and just as she had guessed, they were in Shel-burne, it was a small, distant community, north of Deerfield.

As soon as she saw the waterfall, she insisted on dismounting and leading her horse closer to it, and walking for a while. She thought it was the most beautiful spot on earth, and wished that she'd had time to sketch it. And then finally, with the utmost reluctance, she mounted her horse again, and they began the long ride back to Deerfield, but within a mile of the waterfall, she stopped suddenly, as though she'd seen something she'd lost, and could go no farther till she reclaimed it.

What is it? Will thought something was wrong, and he looked anxious as she stopped and looked around her. She seemed to be listening and the young private looked as though he were about to cry. He did not want to run into a war party with this woman.

But she had heard no human sound, and it was clear to him that she had seen something, and it had stopped her in her tracks like a bolt of lightning. All he saw as he glanced where she stared was a large clearing, and some old trees, and a view across the valley. What's wrong? he asked her miserably. He was cold, and he would have liked to be back in his billet.

But she had seen precisely what she wanted. Who owns this land? she asked softly. She was staring around the clearing as though it were haunted, but she knew what she had seen in her head a thousand times since she had decided to come here. It was the perfect location.

The government, I think. You should ask the colonel. It had all belonged to the Indians once, but it had been taken from them. It was a magical place, and she could easily envision a house here. There was a spring in the back, the waterfall was nearby, and if you listened, she imagined, you could hear it. And there was a family of deer standing in the clearing, looking straight at her. It was like a message from the King of the Universe. Singing Wind had spoken about it to her ' Kiehtan ' she knew with utter certainty that she was meant to be here. But as she sat, immobile on her horse, with her escort at her side, it was getting darker.

We must go, Mrs. Ferguson, he said urgently. It's getting late. He didn't want to tell her, but he was frightened. He was seventeen years old, and he didn't know why, but she scared him.

All we have to do is go down these hills to the valley floor and then cross it heading southeast, she said calmly. She had an excellent sense of direction, but it did little to calm him. She hated to leave the spot where they stood, but she knew that she would find it easily again. All she had to do was return to the waterfall, and she could find it from there. It was completely distinctive. And to please the boy, she began moving again. He was right, it was getting dark, but unlike him, she wasn't frightened.

They traveled for the next two hours without incident, or making comment. It was a hard ride, but a pleasant one, and they went faster than usual, as they were racing against nightfall, but the horses were strong, and most of the time, the trail was clear, there were only one or two occasions when they were not quite sure which way to go at a fork in the road, or in a clearing, but her sense of direction was keen, and led them almost all the way back to Deerfield. She knew they were back on the valley floor when they reached a clearing, but when they saw it for the second time she knew they had seen it twenty minutes earlier. It was nearly dark by then, and in the twilight, she questioned her sense of direction, but said nothing. When they returned to the clearing for the third time, she faltered.