Fire Along the Sky
Page 108
But the girls did as they were told, still far too unsettled in this new home to even contemplate disobedience, though Martha cast a glance back from the door.
“The knight of swords, that card has to do with soldiering, don't it?”
Then she left without waiting for an answer, and the women in the kitchen were quiet together while they listened to the sound of the girls settling down to their work in the parlor.
“They are so serious, those two,” Jennet said finally.
“Cain't recall the last time I heard them laugh,” agreed Sally.
“Don't you change the subject,” Curiosity said, coming to the table to sit across from Jennet. “That knight of swords has got you worried, don't it?”
Hannah caught a questioning glance from her cousin and returned it with a smile. “Don't hold back on my account,” she said, and tried to mean it; she hadn't decided, yet, how she felt about Jennet's fortune-telling. For the most part she listened and kept her thoughts to herself.
“Well,” Jennet said. “It does, aye. The knight of swords crossed by the seven is worrisome. A dangerous trip over water for a military man.”
“Is that so.”
Curiosity kept her thoughts to herself while her granddaughters made the looms clack and thump, thump and clack. “Just as well you ain't got no menfolk in the navy, then, Hannah.”
“Just as well,” Hannah echoed. She smiled at Jennet to ease the concern she saw there in her face. “Why did you send the girls away?”
Jennet pulled a bowl of soaking beans toward her and began to sort through them. “Martha worries so about the war, surely you've noticed?”
“Better to worry about something far off that don't feel quite real than to be thinking about her mama all the time,” said Curiosity. And in mock outrage: “Why, are you laughing at me, missy?”
“Oh, no,” said Hannah. “I'm just wondering if I'll ever be as quick as you are. What a clan mother you would have been.”
That earned her a crooked smile and a sniff.
Jennet said, “She is a clan mother, look about you. A house full of girls and women and all of us happy to jump at her word. Those girls would do anything for you, Curiosity, but even you cannot keep them safe in their dreams. Martha is still screaming in the night?”
“She'll settle down in good time,” Curiosity said. And then they were silent again, because for once Curiosity was reluctant to say the whole truth out loud: it would take more than time to cure what ailed Martha Kuick, who ran a gauntlet every time they went into the village or to the schoolhouse. Just yesterday the Ratz boys had waited for her and Callie after school—well out of Elizabeth's sight or hearing—to ask was it true that Martha's mother had put a hex on Callie's?
The girls had walked away, stiff backed and blank of face, until they came into Curiosity's kitchen, where they wept openly.
“We cain't lock those girls up,” Curiosity said now, reading Hannah's thoughts as easily as words on a page. “Not even to keep them safe. Now I know Elizabeth has talked to the boys, but look to me like they need another kind of convincing. And your daddy is just the man to have a little set-down with those nasty-minded boys, show them the way of things. Yessir, Nathaniel will stop the talking.” She looked like she relished the idea. Then she lifted her head sharply toward the door, for the dogs had begun to bark in the way that meant that someone they knew and liked was coming to the door.
“That will be him now,” Curiosity said with some satisfaction. “He said he would stop by late afternoon.”
But it was Jed McGarrity, and his news was not good. When he had made sure the girls were out of hearing he laid it out plain.
“Jemima's got a gash on her head that needs stitching,” he explained, clutching his snowy cap to his middle. “She says she won't let herself be sewed up, but if she bleeds to death then I'll have to charge Nicholas Wilde with murder, and that's one thing I'd like to avoid.”
“Did he beat her?” Jennet asked, concerned but not surprised at the idea. In the village they talked constantly of the things that went on at the cabin in the orchard since Nicholas Wilde had come home from Johnstown without his divorce.
“Jemima says so, Claes says not.” Jed scratched at his head with his thumb. “I ain't sure what happened, to tell the truth, except when I come up to the cabin—I was stopping by like I do every couple days or so, given all the trouble—and I saw Mima standing on the porch. Bloody-headed and pitching plates against the wall and howling like one of them banshees you told us about, Miss Jennet. I thought it was best if I came to fetch you, Hannah, as she's in a family way. Will you come?”
Jed was not a coward, but Hannah had rarely seen a man look more relieved than he was when she told him she would go to the orchards on her own.
Lately she had so little chance to spend any real time alone, first and foremost because somebody seemed to come by at least once a day who needed medical attention, and second because her own people were so worried about her that they hovered. She didn't dislike either circumstance, exactly, but she needed this too, a world empty of people who wanted something from her or for her.
The air was cold on her skin, the snow such a deep and pure white that her eyes leaked tears that would have frozen on her cheeks if not for the good wool scarf that Curiosity had wrapped around her, clucking all the while. Hannah followed elk tracks through the woods to the orchards, and then she stood there, a little winded, and gathered her thoughts.
“The knight of swords, that card has to do with soldiering, don't it?”
Then she left without waiting for an answer, and the women in the kitchen were quiet together while they listened to the sound of the girls settling down to their work in the parlor.
“They are so serious, those two,” Jennet said finally.
“Cain't recall the last time I heard them laugh,” agreed Sally.
“Don't you change the subject,” Curiosity said, coming to the table to sit across from Jennet. “That knight of swords has got you worried, don't it?”
Hannah caught a questioning glance from her cousin and returned it with a smile. “Don't hold back on my account,” she said, and tried to mean it; she hadn't decided, yet, how she felt about Jennet's fortune-telling. For the most part she listened and kept her thoughts to herself.
“Well,” Jennet said. “It does, aye. The knight of swords crossed by the seven is worrisome. A dangerous trip over water for a military man.”
“Is that so.”
Curiosity kept her thoughts to herself while her granddaughters made the looms clack and thump, thump and clack. “Just as well you ain't got no menfolk in the navy, then, Hannah.”
“Just as well,” Hannah echoed. She smiled at Jennet to ease the concern she saw there in her face. “Why did you send the girls away?”
Jennet pulled a bowl of soaking beans toward her and began to sort through them. “Martha worries so about the war, surely you've noticed?”
“Better to worry about something far off that don't feel quite real than to be thinking about her mama all the time,” said Curiosity. And in mock outrage: “Why, are you laughing at me, missy?”
“Oh, no,” said Hannah. “I'm just wondering if I'll ever be as quick as you are. What a clan mother you would have been.”
That earned her a crooked smile and a sniff.
Jennet said, “She is a clan mother, look about you. A house full of girls and women and all of us happy to jump at her word. Those girls would do anything for you, Curiosity, but even you cannot keep them safe in their dreams. Martha is still screaming in the night?”
“She'll settle down in good time,” Curiosity said. And then they were silent again, because for once Curiosity was reluctant to say the whole truth out loud: it would take more than time to cure what ailed Martha Kuick, who ran a gauntlet every time they went into the village or to the schoolhouse. Just yesterday the Ratz boys had waited for her and Callie after school—well out of Elizabeth's sight or hearing—to ask was it true that Martha's mother had put a hex on Callie's?
The girls had walked away, stiff backed and blank of face, until they came into Curiosity's kitchen, where they wept openly.
“We cain't lock those girls up,” Curiosity said now, reading Hannah's thoughts as easily as words on a page. “Not even to keep them safe. Now I know Elizabeth has talked to the boys, but look to me like they need another kind of convincing. And your daddy is just the man to have a little set-down with those nasty-minded boys, show them the way of things. Yessir, Nathaniel will stop the talking.” She looked like she relished the idea. Then she lifted her head sharply toward the door, for the dogs had begun to bark in the way that meant that someone they knew and liked was coming to the door.
“That will be him now,” Curiosity said with some satisfaction. “He said he would stop by late afternoon.”
But it was Jed McGarrity, and his news was not good. When he had made sure the girls were out of hearing he laid it out plain.
“Jemima's got a gash on her head that needs stitching,” he explained, clutching his snowy cap to his middle. “She says she won't let herself be sewed up, but if she bleeds to death then I'll have to charge Nicholas Wilde with murder, and that's one thing I'd like to avoid.”
“Did he beat her?” Jennet asked, concerned but not surprised at the idea. In the village they talked constantly of the things that went on at the cabin in the orchard since Nicholas Wilde had come home from Johnstown without his divorce.
“Jemima says so, Claes says not.” Jed scratched at his head with his thumb. “I ain't sure what happened, to tell the truth, except when I come up to the cabin—I was stopping by like I do every couple days or so, given all the trouble—and I saw Mima standing on the porch. Bloody-headed and pitching plates against the wall and howling like one of them banshees you told us about, Miss Jennet. I thought it was best if I came to fetch you, Hannah, as she's in a family way. Will you come?”
Jed was not a coward, but Hannah had rarely seen a man look more relieved than he was when she told him she would go to the orchards on her own.
Lately she had so little chance to spend any real time alone, first and foremost because somebody seemed to come by at least once a day who needed medical attention, and second because her own people were so worried about her that they hovered. She didn't dislike either circumstance, exactly, but she needed this too, a world empty of people who wanted something from her or for her.
The air was cold on her skin, the snow such a deep and pure white that her eyes leaked tears that would have frozen on her cheeks if not for the good wool scarf that Curiosity had wrapped around her, clucking all the while. Hannah followed elk tracks through the woods to the orchards, and then she stood there, a little winded, and gathered her thoughts.
