The Tory's Daughter, page 10
James stood with his little cousin at the edge of the clearing as they picked leaves from a low-hanging branch. James threw his handful at Sarah and darted away, making a beeline to where his pa visited with the Reids—Benjamin joined by his wife and three daughters. No sign of the son, Daniel, but he may not be a religious man.
Hannah wasn’t even sure why she was there. Only that she hadn’t wanted to be invisible anymore.
Joseph swept up his little boy and started toward the small grouping of benches, long planks laid over short lengths of logs. A handful of families already waited for the beginning of the meeting. She recognized some of the men who had driven her family from the valley. She should have listened to Joseph and stayed home. Maybe it wasn’t too late. She could slip back to Rachel and Andrew’s cabin and wait out the meeting. Wouldn’t Joseph love that! She’d be giving him exactly what he wanted.
Bible in hand, Andrew kissed his wife and worked his way to the front. Despite the hint of a limp and his homespun clothes, his movements had grace to them. They, like his speech, seemed out of place in this wilderness.
“Can you take Martha?” Rachel asked coming beside her.
Hannah opened her arms to the sleeping baby, unable to withhold a smile. The child stirred against her and then settled.
Rachel snatched up Sarah and planted the child on her lap.
Hannah’s smile died a quick death. Joseph remained at the back. He waited until everyone else sat, and then slipped onto the last bench with the Reids beside Nora. And as far away from Hannah as he could position himself.
It doesn’t matter.
Hannah shrugged the shawl off her shoulders, the warmth of the sleeping baby mingling with a new heat surging through her.
As the small congregation—no more than twenty in attendance—bowed their heads, Andrew began to pray over them and their time together.
Hannah glanced back one last time at her handsome husband, little James on his lap playing with a pocket watch. Sandy locks fell across Joseph’s eyes, and his lips formed a straight line. He looked unhappy. No doubt she was on his mind. Perhaps he wished he hadn’t been forced into marriage. He’d preserved his farm and his life, but lost his freedom to her.
An ache compressed her lungs. What if he’d had plans to marry Nora? She possessed a soft disposition like her sister. Unlike Hannah’s temper and stubbornness. Hannah wasn’t docile like the Reid girls.
Andrew opened his Bible and began speaking something of a certain Jew making a long journey, but Hannah knew nothing of Jerusalem or Jericho, and her mind continued to linger on the man behind her. Why was she letting Joseph affect her this way? She hadn’t wanted this marriage either. She’d come to find her brothers and her search was not yet over. She couldn’t get distracted.
No matter how blue her husband’s eyes were.
Better to forget that he was her husband.
“Leaving him half dead.”
Hannah focused on Andrew. Who was left half dead? The traveler?
“‘And by chance there came down a certain priest that way: and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. And likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and looked on him, and passed by on the other side.’” Andrew’s gaze scanned the group, a gentleness present as he closed the Bible. “‘But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him, and went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him.’”
Though much of the story remained a mystery, Andrew’s voice held Hannah’s attention.
“I have read this story dozens of times, and have tried to understand what Christ asked of the people he spoke with—what he asks of us. To be a neighbor. To do good to others no matter what your differences may be. The Samaritans and the Jews were not friendly to each other during the life of our Savior. You might even call them enemies.”
The story began to make more sense now, and Hannah struggled to not look at the man who had once been a literal neighbor…and also an enemy.
“Never had I considered myself as the Jew who was left for dead by thieves,” Andrew continued. “And yet, not four years ago, was I not left to that same fate? If not for the goodness of others, my enemies, I should have perished.” He glanced at the closed Bible clasped in his hands. “However, that is not what I mean to speak of to you today. But forgiveness. Whether we play the part of a Jew, or a Samaritan, let us not remain as the priest or the Levite.”
He continued on about the war surrounding them, the heartache many felt. And the anger. “One day this war will end, and it will be up to us whether to hold to old scars and hatreds, or to live again as neighbors.”
Neighbors? Like the ones who had burned her home and taken her brothers? If forgiveness was what their God required, then she had no desire to be a Christian. And she obviously no longer belonged in this valley. Or with Joseph. Hannah didn’t have to look to see him and Nora seated together. The image etched itself within her. Why had she even returned? She could have begun her search in Albany.
The last of Andrew’s words only buzzed.
She sighed with relief when he finally concluded the meeting with a prayer, addressing his God as Father. Strange how he spoke with the Creator of All as though He were present. As though He cared.
While others returned to visiting or discussed what had been said, Martha wiggled in Hannah’s arms. The child’s mouth stretched with a yawn, and her eyelids batted open. As soon as she saw that Hannah held her, Martha began to cry.
“Here.” Rachel took her and the wails stopped.
What had Hannah expected? That just because she’d married Joseph, she could become a part of his life? Obviously not what he, or his children wanted. So why was she here? “I’m going back to the cabin.”
Rachel frowned but nodded, understanding in her eyes. “All right. We’ll be along shortly.”
Hannah turned away. She wouldn’t correct the assumption, but it was Joseph’s cabin she was returning to. She circled wide of the gathering and the curious gazes that followed her.
“Wait, aren’t you one of Cunningham’s half-breed girls?” A man barreled toward her.
Hannah tilted her chin higher and kept walking. She wouldn’t let him see her fear.
“Why, except you being a girl, you’re the image of that bloody Tory.” He grabbed her arm, his grip biting her skin.
“Leave her be, Cyrus.” Joseph pushed his son into Nora’s arms and hurried to intercept.
“Why? What’s she to you?” He released Hannah. “And what is she doing here? Unless her Pa and your brother-in-law used to be friends when they rode against us at Oriskany. Cunningham was there too, wasn’t he?”
“My brother-in-law? You mean the man who has spent the past hour imparting God’s word to us? The same who has ridden at our sides to defend this valley and our families?”
He ducked his head. “I’m not questioning Wyndham’s loyalties. I’m wondering what this girl is doing back in the valley.”
Hannah forced herself to face him. “I am looking for my brothers.”
The man laughed. “You’re wasting your time. If I heard right, that oldest one got a ball through the head for desertion not long after we sent him east.”
“No.” Not Myles. Her vision hazed. She couldn’t breathe. The man had to be mistaken.
His raspy voice continued to grate her. “Probably wasn’t much longer before that younger pup—”
Joseph’s fist slammed into the man’s face and he reeled back. “You shut your mouth, Acker.”
The man touched the blood at the corner of his mouth, before glowering at Joseph. “Why should I? What’s she to you, Garnet?”
Joseph’s fist clenched and unclenched, as beads of sweat glistened from his temples. He resembled a young horse tied short and about to be saddled for the first time. Cornered.
He blurred behind a veil of moisture, and Hannah stumbled back a step. “I’m his wife.” She spat the words as though they were vile. No doubt to Joseph, they were. He’d never say them—never claim her.
~*~
Joseph’s feet were rutted into the ground, as Hannah darted past him to the woods. He should go after her and make sure she didn’t get lost, even if she did know the area as well as he did, and—
“Your wife?” Cyrus Acker twisted a glare at him, but he wasn’t the only one moving in with questions.
Even Benjamin looked on in shock.
“Is it true, Joseph?” Despite her question, Nora appeared the least surprised.
“Yes. As of six days ago.”
Cyrus’s eyes widened. “The day after the raid? After you disappeared without a word. Did you find her out there?”
“Something like that.” He looked to the woods that had swallowed Hannah.
“Why, of course. She was with the raiders, wasn’t she? They’re probably her kin. And she came back with them to find her brothers.”
The truth tumbled out with alarming ease. And there was no way Joseph could deny any of it.
“But now you’re married into their clan, aren’t you? So you and your farm have nothing more to worry about.”
Benjamin leaned into his cane. “Is that true, Joseph?”
Again words failed him. He knew his betrayal well enough.
Acker shoved Joseph’s shoulder. “You took a little Tory squaw to protect yourself.” A string of curses spewed like water from a kettle, with the same burning effect.
“What would you do if Otetiani and all his warriors showed up on your land with no warning? No chance to prepare yourself?” Joseph pushed back. “I had no choice other than see my family butchered.”
“Like mine was?”
Exactly like that. Joseph had helped dig the graves.
“Except I was already committed to the cause,” Acker said. “I spend my year in the army only to come home to find my wife dead along with our younger boy. Only one child remaining to me. For you to make a bargain with those heathens…” Acker swore again and rotated to where his son waited beside the youngest Reid girl. “You might as well be one of them now, Garnet.”
Joseph stiffened. He stood in place as others followed Acker’s lead and headed to their wagons and mounts, their silence condemning.
Even Benjamin said nothing.
“Give them time.” Rachel set a hand on Joseph’s arm. “They’ll not hold it against you.”
“Why? Because they found a way to accept your British captain? That just makes this worse, can’t you see? How can they trust any of us now?” He wasn’t sure he trusted himself.
“Joseph…”
“I need to go home.” And find Hannah. He could only pray their neighbors had listened to Andrew’s sermon. But what about those not in attendance today? News like this would not stay whispered for long.
16
The ride home and a thorough curry of Hunter’s sweat-dampened coat tempered Joseph’s frustration. He still didn’t understand why Hannah couldn’t have held her tongue as he’d requested, but what was done was done. They would deal with the consequences as they came. He filled his lungs with the resolution to be patient and pushed into the cabin. All was silent and still. He’d taken his time with his return, and with caring for the horse—Hannah should have been home already.
Joseph crouched at the fireplace to poke dead logs. Charred, they crumbled at his prodding. Much like the cascade of emotions within him. Somehow the cabin felt even emptier than before Hannah’s coming. “What am I doing?” He couldn’t wait. He’d finish looking after the stock and if she wasn’t back by then, he’d go search for her.
A forest could change a lot in a few years. Trees stretched taller and trails overgrew. Maybe she had gotten lost.
Unable to shove aside his doubts that Hannah could have found her way back if she wanted to, Joseph hurried with his chores. Not having a milk cow shaved off quite a lot of time, and he didn’t bother searching out eggs. After throwing some feed to the chickens, he headed for the mare’s pasture. As soon as he finished checking on her, he could saddle Hunter again and try to find Hannah’s trail.
The sun lengthened over the pasture and rugs of emerald grass.
The mare walked the length of the fence, head down as though hunting for another morsel to taste, but her focus was not on the grass. Heavy breathing flared her nostrils, and she released an airy knicker.
Joseph slowed.
Her steps betrayed discomfort. She paused and gave her head a low shake.
“Is that foal coming tonight?” Joseph’s voice sounded hollow against the backdrop of silence. He didn’t enjoy the quiet anymore. Too empty.
“I think that is for certain.”
Joseph pivoted, and his chest seized with relief.
Hannah sat not ten feet away against an old oak, her gaze steadfast on the mare. She tucked the hem of her gown down to hide her feet.
He cleared the tension from his throat. “Why didn’t you fetch me?”
Hannah still refused to look at him. “You’re not needed here.”
By the mare…or by her?
Yes, the mare probably fared well enough without him, but he wouldn’t mind being needed by someone. Maybe that added to the loneliness of late. He wasn’t really needed here. Andrew wasn’t a born or raised frontiersman, but he would make do with Rachel at his side. And they had the children.
Joseph frowned. Is that why he worked so hard on both farms? Not because he was needed…but because he wanted to feel needed? He rubbed one calloused palm over the other. What if Hannah was the only one who really did need him? To find her brothers. And then?
“Mind if I watch with you?”
She folded her arms and tucked her knees up. “It’s your farm. Your mare.”
Yes it was. He sat beside her and stretched out his legs. His hat bumped the tree and he plopped it to the ground. Arms folded to match hers, he settled in to wait.
Not only silence, but peace gradually settled between them. Or maybe just acceptance. He didn’t dare ask her what brooded behind her pretty eyes. Probably what Cyrus Acker had said about Myles. His words had been cruel. Even if they were the least bit true.
The breeze teased the grass and high branches of the trees. Shadows continued to lengthen. As twilight darkened the fields, coolness seeped into the air.
Hannah shivered. She wore no shawl.
“Why don’t you head to the cabin and get some rest?” Joseph suggested. She was probably plenty tired. He was.
She shook her head.
Arguing with her never got them anywhere, so he pulled his arms from his coat. “Then put this on.”
For the first time since his arrival, Hannah glanced at him. “Then you’ll be cold.”
He dropped the coat onto her lap. He had enough worries to keep him warm.
Unmoving, Hannah stared at the coat. She prodded it with her finger, her face sad, and then slipped the sleeves on backwards.
Again silence filled the inches between them. Elsewhere, crickets sang and the breeze whispered.
The mare laid down and whinnied. A short time later the foal made its appearance.
Joseph relaxed into the tree as the gangly filly struggled to her feet and became acquainted with her mother. Fascinated with the foal, Joseph hardly noticed Hannah slump against him. When he looked at her face, the moonlight revealed dark lashes on her cheeks. Poor thing was exhausted. He should get her to the cabin and put her to bed, but instead he sat there, watching her, enjoying her closeness, her touch. Don’t fool yourself. She might need his help to find her brothers. But she didn’t need him.
Joseph slipped his arms around and under her, but she hardly stirred. She moaned, but didn’t open her eyes as he carried her to the cabin and laid her on the bed. He drew his coat from her arms and tucked the quilts to her chin. “Sleep well.”
Good thing she was asleep, or she’d probably balk at that, too.
Back outside, he moved the new mother and foal to the barn for safekeeping in case the afterbirth attracted wolves or other predators. In the lamplight the filly’s coat showed more chestnut than had initially been apparent.
Joseph smiled. What if he made a gift of her to Hannah? She’d always admired the sire. Perhaps the filly would cover some of his wrongs and give Hannah a reason to stay. Because more and more, he hoped she would.
~*~
Hannah lay still, not wanting to wake Joseph. He’d rolled over during the night and his arm now lay tight against hers. His breath heated her neck, his face tipped her way. She dared a glance, only to find his face inches from hers in the early morning glow. The open doorway gave very little light to study him, but that was for the best. Just the slope of his relaxed jaw and his parted lips threatened to be her undoing.
Hannah looked away. The quilt already held her on the edge of perspiring, she didn’t need any more warmth rushing through her. Or a longing she could never fulfill.
Awaken him or not, she needed to move. Last night had been bad enough when she’d fallen asleep against his shoulder and Joseph had swept her up in his arms. Whether for the sake of her pride, weary limbs, or the feel of being held by him, she’d pretended to remain asleep, only to lay awake for a long while afterward.
Motions steady and slow, Hannah rolled away from him, breaking contact. She slipped her feet to the floor. Last night Joseph had only removed her moccasins. If she could keep from tripping on her hem, she’d soon escape this room. If only she could escape thoughts of him so easy.
Joseph gave a soft groan.
Hannah froze and glanced back.
No movement. His breathing again deepened.
She tiptoed out the door. After a drink of water, Hannah stepped into the hazed sun rising up beside the barn. Splashes of light spilled over ugly black marks strewn across the wall. A single word written in charcoal and ash.
“Joseph.” Her voice squeaked. She looked toward the pasture where the mare had foaled. No sign of them. Or Hunter. She should go see whether they sheltered at the edge of the trees or along the barn, but instead she retreated. “Joseph.”
