Into the Wilderness
Page 203
"Oh, do be serious. I have no intention of running off into the night to put heads together with Billy Kirby or Moses Southern. No, I will have a conversation with my father tomorrow and see what might be done in a more civilized manner. In the meantime, if any of those men want my advice, I'll be here," Julian said, lifting his glass. "In serious contemplation."
* * *
Elizabeth wondered, at first, if she were dreaming. In the light of the moon she saw before her not just the familiar shape of the cabin at Lake in the Clouds, but a second one, similar in shape, set back and to one side. She had come to a complete halt on the path, unable to credit what her senses told her.
"I was keeping it for a surprise," Nathaniel said beside her. "Didn't know if they'd be able to finish before we got back, anyway."
Hannah was jumping up and down in excitement, yanking on Elizabeth's arm. "Do you like it? Do you like it? There's curtains and real glass, and bookshelves and a desk and a bedstead—"
The tears stinging in her eyes were happy ones, but Elizabeth blinked hard anyway, determined to banish them. She nodded at the little girl and smiled.
"She likes it fine," Nathaniel said, his hand on the crown of Hannah's head.
"I like it very much," Elizabeth confirmed. "Is it for the three of us, then?"
"That it is, Boots," Nathaniel said. "And room for more to come. It ain't exactly Oakmere, but I'm hoping it'll serve, just the same."
"It will serve all the better for not being Oakmere."
"What's Oakmere?" Hannah asked.
"The house where I was raised," Elizabeth said. "I'll tell you all about it."
The door to the closer cabin stood open now. Nathaniel squeezed Elizabeth's shoulder and then headed off toward his father. Behind Hawkeye, the rest of them stood at the door, their faces lost in shadow: Falling—Day, Many-Doves , and Chingachgook, on Runs-from-Bears' arm.
"Come on," Hannah said, tugging at her sleeve, and then skipping ahead.
"You look as surprised as I am," Elizabeth said to Robbie as they followed. "You didn't know?"
"Weel, lassie, surprise wouldna be a word I'd use, masel'. It's awfu' mild, if ye ken what I mean. It cow pit me on my doup."
Elizabeth stifled a laugh. "Pardon me?"
"Pardon my exuberance, lass. I said, it threw me doon on my behind. Ye dinna mind, then, that he had ye a cabin built wi'oot asking' ye first?"
She squeezed his arm. "I do not mind one little bit," she said. "In fact, I could not be more pleased."
Robbie shook his head, reaching down to pat Treenie distractedly. "I dinna understand why you wee cabin should please ye when the schoolhoose broucht doon yer wrath, but then I've lamed tae leave sleepin' dogs be. Run along, lass. Canna ye see that they're waitin' for ye?"
Elizabeth hesitated, looking up into Robbie's kind eyes. "You come, too."
He shook his head. "I wilna dawdle, lass. But it's the new guidwife that they want. Gae on wi' ye, then."
She went up on tiptoe to kiss the soft cheek. "You've been a good friend to me in these past months, Robin MacLachlan, and I will not forget it."
Before he had time to blush again, Elizabeth had set off.
Chapter 45
After a morning of unpacking and messages and stories back and forth—in which only the minimum had been told, and the rest promised—Elizabeth stood in front of an open chest in the bedroom of the new cabin with only Hannah in attendance. There was not a lot of furniture: a bedstead, a tick mattress, pillows and a quilt, a straight chair, and this chest. Full of things that had belonged to Nathaniel's mother and his first wife.
"I remember this one," said Hannah, gently touching a homespun skirt dyed a deep indigo.
Elizabeth hesitated. She did not relish wearing Sarah's clothes. She did not even know if they would fit her. But if she were to call on her father, she could not realistically go in Kahnyen’keháka dress.
Nathaniel came in, and Elizabeth saw how the child's whole posture changed. He touched her lightly in greeting, his fingers barely brushing her shoulder and then her cheek.
"Your grandmother is looking for you," he said to her. "There's corn that needs grinding."
She sighed audibly.
"Come back when you are finished," Elizabeth said. "I would like to swim later, if there's time."
"Can you swim?" Hannah asked, looking at her father rather than at Elizabeth.
"I taught her, the same as I taught you," Nathaniel said. "Go on, now."
There were windows on two walls: one looked over the waterfall and gorge, and the other looked down the glen to the other cabin. They watched Hannah's long legs flashing as she ran, and Elizabeth laughed. "I don't think I've ever seen her walk at a normal pace."
But Nathaniel was looking down into the trunk and seemed not to have heard this. Something passed over his face: regret, perhaps.
"You're about the same size as Many-Doves ," he said. "She could lend you a dress until we fetch your things." His arm stole around her waist, and Elizabeth leaned into him thankfully.
"When should we go do that?"
"There's no reason to waste time about it, Boots," he said dryly. "In the evening, then, if that will suit." He paused, as if wondering how much he should say.
* * *
Elizabeth wondered, at first, if she were dreaming. In the light of the moon she saw before her not just the familiar shape of the cabin at Lake in the Clouds, but a second one, similar in shape, set back and to one side. She had come to a complete halt on the path, unable to credit what her senses told her.
"I was keeping it for a surprise," Nathaniel said beside her. "Didn't know if they'd be able to finish before we got back, anyway."
Hannah was jumping up and down in excitement, yanking on Elizabeth's arm. "Do you like it? Do you like it? There's curtains and real glass, and bookshelves and a desk and a bedstead—"
The tears stinging in her eyes were happy ones, but Elizabeth blinked hard anyway, determined to banish them. She nodded at the little girl and smiled.
"She likes it fine," Nathaniel said, his hand on the crown of Hannah's head.
"I like it very much," Elizabeth confirmed. "Is it for the three of us, then?"
"That it is, Boots," Nathaniel said. "And room for more to come. It ain't exactly Oakmere, but I'm hoping it'll serve, just the same."
"It will serve all the better for not being Oakmere."
"What's Oakmere?" Hannah asked.
"The house where I was raised," Elizabeth said. "I'll tell you all about it."
The door to the closer cabin stood open now. Nathaniel squeezed Elizabeth's shoulder and then headed off toward his father. Behind Hawkeye, the rest of them stood at the door, their faces lost in shadow: Falling—Day, Many-Doves , and Chingachgook, on Runs-from-Bears' arm.
"Come on," Hannah said, tugging at her sleeve, and then skipping ahead.
"You look as surprised as I am," Elizabeth said to Robbie as they followed. "You didn't know?"
"Weel, lassie, surprise wouldna be a word I'd use, masel'. It's awfu' mild, if ye ken what I mean. It cow pit me on my doup."
Elizabeth stifled a laugh. "Pardon me?"
"Pardon my exuberance, lass. I said, it threw me doon on my behind. Ye dinna mind, then, that he had ye a cabin built wi'oot asking' ye first?"
She squeezed his arm. "I do not mind one little bit," she said. "In fact, I could not be more pleased."
Robbie shook his head, reaching down to pat Treenie distractedly. "I dinna understand why you wee cabin should please ye when the schoolhoose broucht doon yer wrath, but then I've lamed tae leave sleepin' dogs be. Run along, lass. Canna ye see that they're waitin' for ye?"
Elizabeth hesitated, looking up into Robbie's kind eyes. "You come, too."
He shook his head. "I wilna dawdle, lass. But it's the new guidwife that they want. Gae on wi' ye, then."
She went up on tiptoe to kiss the soft cheek. "You've been a good friend to me in these past months, Robin MacLachlan, and I will not forget it."
Before he had time to blush again, Elizabeth had set off.
Chapter 45
After a morning of unpacking and messages and stories back and forth—in which only the minimum had been told, and the rest promised—Elizabeth stood in front of an open chest in the bedroom of the new cabin with only Hannah in attendance. There was not a lot of furniture: a bedstead, a tick mattress, pillows and a quilt, a straight chair, and this chest. Full of things that had belonged to Nathaniel's mother and his first wife.
"I remember this one," said Hannah, gently touching a homespun skirt dyed a deep indigo.
Elizabeth hesitated. She did not relish wearing Sarah's clothes. She did not even know if they would fit her. But if she were to call on her father, she could not realistically go in Kahnyen’keháka dress.
Nathaniel came in, and Elizabeth saw how the child's whole posture changed. He touched her lightly in greeting, his fingers barely brushing her shoulder and then her cheek.
"Your grandmother is looking for you," he said to her. "There's corn that needs grinding."
She sighed audibly.
"Come back when you are finished," Elizabeth said. "I would like to swim later, if there's time."
"Can you swim?" Hannah asked, looking at her father rather than at Elizabeth.
"I taught her, the same as I taught you," Nathaniel said. "Go on, now."
There were windows on two walls: one looked over the waterfall and gorge, and the other looked down the glen to the other cabin. They watched Hannah's long legs flashing as she ran, and Elizabeth laughed. "I don't think I've ever seen her walk at a normal pace."
But Nathaniel was looking down into the trunk and seemed not to have heard this. Something passed over his face: regret, perhaps.
"You're about the same size as Many-Doves ," he said. "She could lend you a dress until we fetch your things." His arm stole around her waist, and Elizabeth leaned into him thankfully.
"When should we go do that?"
"There's no reason to waste time about it, Boots," he said dryly. "In the evening, then, if that will suit." He paused, as if wondering how much he should say.
