The Tory's Daughter, page 6
Andrew shouldered the musket. “What kind of negotiations?”
“A treaty of sorts.” Joseph forced air into his depleted lungs as he lifted his son. “We need you to perform a marriage.”
“A marriage…” Rachel froze. “You and Hannah?”
“Yes.” He looked to Andrew. “Will you do it?”
“If you are certain.”
Joseph nodded, though he wasn’t certain at all. “I want Rachel and the children to stay here in case anything goes wrong. Bar the door and stay out of sight.” He motioned to the gun Andrew held. “You’ll probably want to leave that here.”
“I imagine so.” Andrew laid the musket on the table and kissed his wife.
“Come back to me.”
A second kiss lengthened into a third, and Joseph turned away. He missed having someone to kiss like that, but held no hope for this marriage to Hannah Cunningham. If she knew the truth, she would likely never want anything to do with him. Joseph settled James with Rachel and started his return, his pace slower now.
“Are you sure there is no other option?” Andrew asked.
“I’m done fighting. I’m done risking my family.” He glanced to where Fannie was buried. “I can’t afford to lose anyone else.”
“And Miss Cunningham? Is she willing?”
“She wants to find her brothers, and I have promised to help.”
“And when she finds them? Marriage is not something to take lightly. You must consider the future.”
Joseph spun. “You do not think the future is foremost on my mind? Perhaps Hannah nor I desire this marriage, but without it I am confident there won’t be a future. Not for this farm or my family. A future with Hannah is not my concern.” He pushed his hat back from his moist brow. “It’s the past.”
“What do you mean?”
“What I am about to tell you, you must swear, as a clergyman, never to repeat to a living soul.” Better for Hannah’s sake that she never know.
~*~
Standing beside Joseph Garnet, the warmth of his arm brushing hers, did not seem real. Hannah should have convinced her cousin a marriage was not necessary, but instead she had agreed with him. She wasn’t sure if it was the logic he had presented, or the memory of her girlhood dreams. Though her main reasons for visiting the Garnet farm as a girl had been to watch Joseph’s horse, Hunter, and learn about horses from Joseph’s pa, she couldn’t deny her gaze had often followed after Joseph, as well. But he’d seemed so much older and had only ever seen her as a child.
Then Papa had left to fight for the British, her family had been driven out…and Joseph had sat watching with indifference.
She shifted so their arms wouldn’t touch.
“I pronounce you husband and wife.”
What have I done? Every reason she’d held for the ceremony fled at that final declaration.
Andrew Wyndham nodded toward them and stepped back, his lips pressed thin with evident disapproval.
Did he not understand she was doing her best to save their lives? Her cousin had agreed that as a member of their clan, Joseph would be afforded some protection. Brant had left for the Ohio Valley and Fort Detroit at the request of the British, but the others would be informed, and the Garnet farm would be spared from the raids.
A hand cupped Hannah’s shoulder, and she looked at Joseph. Her husband.
He didn’t appear much happier than his brother-in-law, but there was a softness in his blue eyes that surprised her. “I’ll leave you to bid your kin goodbye.”
To see that they left as promised.
Otetiani mounted his horse and signaled his men. Nothing held them here now.
Soon Hannah stood alone, the only one at the spot where she had promised her life to Joseph Garnet. “What have I done?” Setting her shoulders back−ignoring the throbbing of her arm−she steadied her breath. She had done what was necessary to keep searching for her brothers. She had to hold to the hope that Samuel and Myles still lived.
Then what?
Would she live with her brothers or continue on as Joseph’s wife? Her heart did a strange sort of fluttery skip, and then a plummet. So many emotions swirled she wasn’t sure what she felt. Anticipation, wonder, and nausea. She could only hope Joseph had matured into half the man his father had been. Swallowing down her fears for the time being, Hannah hurried after Joseph, over the field and past the barn.
He stepped to the open door of the cabin and glanced back. His chest heaved as he rotated to her.
She skidded to a stop.
“I suppose there are some things we should discuss.” One corner of his mouth crept up. “Hannah Garnet.”
Andrew nodded to her and slipped inside the cabin to where Rachel stood with a girl on each hip. Perhaps it was only the lighting, but she appeared very pale.
Joseph looked Hannah up and down before nodding for her to follow.
Panic rose within her. She gathered her hair and twisted it up, only she no longer had any pins. She hooped her hair into a knot and left it at that. She should have braided it again.
They rounded the corner of the barn, and Joseph paused, arms folded. His expression remained unreadable.
“When will we go after my brothers?” She also folded her arms, but immediately regretted the motion with her sore arm. “You promised to help me find them.”
“And I shall.”
“When?”
“I can’t leave until the fields are all planted. You must know that.”
She looked across the fields. “Yes. I know.” Her father hadn’t been much of a farmer—took more to trapping and hunting, but her mother’s people were planters. Corn, beans, and squash−she knew the three sisters well.
“But then, I promise, I will go with you, and we will find out what happened to them.”
Hannah had no choice but to accept.
“Your assistance would expedite our departure.”
“Of course.”
Joseph leaned into the log wall of the barn. “It’s not just the planting I need help with.”
“I expected as much.”
“Little James.”
Hannah’s pulse sped. In the haste, she’d forgotten she’d become the mother of two young children.
“Rachel will keep the baby for now as she’s still being nursed, but I think James is increasingly too much for my sister. She hasn’t said anything, but keeping up with three children so young has become a challenge.”
“Of course.”
“But we can worry about those arrangements after your arm is healed. Is there anything else you feel we should talk about?” Something in Joseph’s tone suggested a dare.
Several question fought for dominance, but she pushed them aside. One crowned over the rest−one she wasn’t ready to ask. She didn’t want to know his expectations now that she was his wife.
9
Joseph reined Hunter toward the barn and hurried to unsaddle and curry the weary animal. Bone deep exhaustion dragged his steps as he cared for the stallion and released him into the pasture.
The cabin sat silent and dark.
Perhaps Hannah had already retired for the night.
He couldn’t blame her. After cleaning and hanging the dead cow in the barn so the meat wouldn’t spoil, he’d insisted upon accompanying Andrew and Rachel home. He’d take no chances with raiders in the area. But what should have been a short ride became hours of discussion with his very concerned pastor and sister. The sun had slipped into its peaceful abyss, and he looked forward to doing the same.
Joseph lit a candle, filled the kettle and hooked it in the fireplace. The coals were banked inside, but the water would be warm enough for coffee tomorrow morning. He dipped water from the bucket someone had filled and took a drink of water before moving into the bedroom. A gust of cold air met him. A quilt still hung through the broken window. How had the wild girl he’d locked in this room the night before become his wife? He looked at the bed, no form apparent in the dim light. Where was his bride?
Smothering a yawn and a groan, Joseph fought the desire to lay down and not think about her. He plodded back outside and glanced around the moonlit terrain. “Hannah?”
Hunter was the only one to answer.
Joseph frowned. Maybe he didn’t have a wife anymore? But surely she wouldn’t have gone very far. Unless she’d taken his mare. Joseph circled past the well and smokehouse toward the far paddock.
Moonlight glinted off the mare’s black coat.
Rubbing grit from his eyes, Joseph leaned into the rough rail fence. Where had the woman gone? That morning he’d considered it a blessing when she’d run out and disappeared. But now? He’d taken responsibility for her—before God and man. “Fool woman,” he muttered, then jerked as a shadow moved.
A pale face looked toward him.
“Hannah?”
Black hair met the woolen shawl that draped over the yellow of the dress—no wonder he hadn’t seen her in the dark. “What are you doing out here?”
Hannah’s eyes, as dark as the night, shifted to watch the mare. “When is she due to foal?”
“Soon.” Joseph sighed. He should have known where to look for Hannah Cunningham. This is where she’d always been after sneaking over from her family’s homestead to watch the horses. The Cunninghams had owned a mare, but it was an old, swaybacked nag that her father had often taken hunting. The animal had probably been at Oriskany, as well.
“Is Hunter the sire?”
Hannah’s question pulled him back from the downward spiral of his thoughts. “Yes.”
“Should be a lovely foal then. Do you hope for a colt or a filly?”
It didn’t matter. He just wanted to go to bed.
“The mare is a pretty thing, but I hope the foal takes after its father. I’ve always loved your pa’s stallion.”
And the stallion loved her in return. Only now did it make sense why Hunter had not balked when Hannah tried to steal him. The animal had known her, just as she’d known him.
“What happened to your pa?”
Weariness poured over his dismal thoughts. “He was killed.”
“During a raid?”
“No. An ambush. Near Oriskany. Almost four years ago.”
“The battle that summer?” Her voice broke.
Joseph nodded. Thank goodness the raiders had targeted a cow and not either of his horses.
“I was told my pa also died in that battle.”
“A lot of men died there.” Joseph closed his mind against the memories. He refused to return to that terrible day.
Hannah’s fingers brushed his arm. “I’m sorry.”
He looked at her, huddled in the shawl, the breeze teasing strands of dark hair against her cheeks. “I am, too. I’m sorry about your pa.” He rushed on. “And I’m sorry about what happened to your family after he left.”
Hannah stiffened and drew closer to the fence, farther from him. “And yet you were there with those men when they burned our cabin so we had no choice but to leave. You were there when they took my brothers.”
Joseph faced the shadowy form of the horse again. How could he answer the question in her words without making her hate him more? He hadn’t done anything. He’d simply been there.
The silence hung in the air.
“I thought as much.” She pushed away from the fence.
“Pa wanted to make sure things didn’t become violent. There was nothing we could do to stop them, but he wouldn’t have let anyone get hurt.”
“Your pa was a good man. I never questioned his involvement, or that he opposed what they did. But you, Joseph. I saw the look on your face. The approval. Why were you there?”
A surge of guilt weighed down on him. “I don’t know.”
“Of course you don’t.” She gave a shallow laugh. “You were just following your pa.”
Joseph bristled. “All right. The truth is I think a man should be able to trust his neighbors.” He understood the fears of the men who had driven the Loyalists from the settlement.
“Too bad the same cannot be afforded a woman and her children.”
“Your pa was a true blue Tory and your ma’s people had taken up arms with the British. And Myles. He was enough of a man to have an opinion, and he made it well enough known.”
Hannah’s hands went to her hips, and she winced. She glared at him. “Myles was hardly sixteen and his loyalty was to Pa, not the British. How can he be faulted for that? Admit it, even at the ripe old age of twenty, your opinions on the war and your loyalties were only a shadow of your own pa’s!”
Joseph bit back a retort. He was too tired to match blows with his bride. Ha! What a laugh that was proving to be. Hopefully her brothers were still alive so they could take her off his hands. He’d probably live longer alone.
Except his children needed a mother. He had to find a way to convince her to stay with him, even if they found her brothers.
“I’m going to bed.” She hurried to the cabin.
Joseph followed much slower. He was tempted to make a bed in the barn, but didn’t have it in him. And there was no way he would spend another night in a chair. He wanted his own mattress, wonderful stuffed straw, and a heavy quilt—heavy enough to block out the chill blasting through the broken window, because that was one more thing he was too tired to take care of.
Inside the cabin, a dim light glowed from the bedroom. Hannah must have taken a candle with her. He stepped in to find her on the chest trying to hook a blanket over the opening with one hand, her injured arm against her body.
“Here, let me.” He crossed the room to take the blanket from her.
Hannah jerked away. “I broke it, I can fix it.”
“Unless you are hiding a pane of glass somewhere, you can’t fix it. Boarding it up is the best we can do, but I’m not worrying about that until tomorrow. Now get down before you hurt yourself.” He set his hands on her waist and lifted her to the floor.
Her palm slapped his arm. “You do not get to tell me what I can or cannot do. I don’t care if I am your wife. You do not own me!” She shoved against his chest.
Joseph didn’t budge. “Don’t you know, a wife is her husband’s property?”
She leveled a tight smile at him. “You would like that wouldn’t you? Well, among my mother’s people, men are the ones who leave their clans and join their wives. Kanien’keha:ka women are the heads of their families.”
“And yet, you left your clan and joined me. You must take after your pa’s side of the family.”
Her smile grew as confidence lit her eyes—so similar to her pa’s. “I’m enough like both my parents to stand up to you.”
“And I…” Joseph looked at the little dark-haired cannonball who had pummeled his life, and all arguments fell away. “I don’t doubt it.”
What had he gotten himself into?
~*~
What had she gotten herself into? Hannah’s pulse tripped as Joseph redirected his intrusive gaze. She wasn’t sure if the heat radiating through her was due to their argument, or the realization she stood only two feet from this man’s bed, and she was his wife. Her stomach dipped and swooshed, making her grateful she hadn’t had an appetite for the beef Rachel had prepared for dinner. Though air flowed from the shattered window, Hannah needed more. She stepped around Joseph and hurried through the cabin. Once outside, she sucked in a breath.
“Don’t leave.”
She looked over her shoulder. Concern touched not only Joseph’s voice, but his matured features. She had always thought him a handsome man, but the years had given definition to his face and sharpened the line of his jaw. Twin creases showed at the corners of his eyes—midnight blue in the low light of the candle he held.
“We should tend your arm after everything you’ve put it through today.” Joseph fished into a pocket and withdrew a small leather pouch. “Rachel sent a salve back with me.”
“That was thoughtful of her.”
“Rachel has always been the thoughtful one. Unlike her brother.”
She stared. Was he apologizing? And if so, for which offence?
“Come sit down.” Joseph waved to one of the chairs. “The water in the kettle is already warm. I’m sure I can find some cloth to make fresh bandaging.”
She obediently sat, and minutes later Joseph scooted a chair beside her. He touched the cuff of her sleeve and frowned. It embraced the arm too tightly to be rolled up past the wound. The only way she would be able to access the bandage was to withdraw her entire arm from the dress.
“Why don’t you go to bed, and I’ll see to this.” It had been difficult to clean the open flesh or wrap the bandage yesterday, but she’d managed. Besides, he looked exhausted.
“Nonsense. I want to make sure it’s not festering.” He extended his hand to the top button, the tips of his fingers brushing her collarbone, sparking a fire within her.
Hannah pulled back.
A grunt rumbled in his throat, and he stood. “I’ll finish covering the window in the bedroom while you pull your arm out. Wrap the shawl over your shoulders if you wish.” He retreated to the other room.
If she wished? As though it made no difference to him?
Hannah tugged the first button free. Maybe it didn’t matter to him. He was accustomed to matrimony and all it entailed, while she…a man had never touched her so intimately before, and that was only the top button! Hannah didn’t know what his expectations were for this marriage, but she certainly wasn’t ready to be his wife.
She hurried to get her arm out and tucked the shawl over every inch of bare skin above the blood-tinged bandage. It still carried some of the dampness of her earlier bath in the river.
A tapping on the wall preceded Joseph’s reentry. He returned to his chair without comment and unbound the cloth from her arm. Pain spiked across the area as he pulled it free from the wound.
“Careful.”
He hummed his acknowledgment or apology, poured warm water from the kettle over a cloth, and then cleaned around the open flesh. With two fingers he scooped a generous amount of amber salve from the small pouch and wiped it across the new bandage before pressing it over her wound. Taking the ends of the fabric, he tied it off and stood.
“The area is warm and redder than it should be, so we’ll want to replace the bandages regularly. Rachel can keep James until you’re done healing. What you need most is rest.” He nodded toward the bedroom, before taking up the basin. “I’ll clean up.”
