Into the Wilderness
Page 34
"So you're not headed back for England. just yet," Nathaniel said, leaning back.
Elizabeth bent her head over the plans, the lamplight shining white on the part in her hair. "Well, no," she said. "Not just yet, at any rate."
Her hands were narrow and very white, the oval nails glowing pale pink. She held them flat on the table. Nathaniel resisted the urge to touch the delicate pulsing of a vein where it negotiated the curve of her wrist.
"Well, then," Nathaniel said. "Tell me what you meant about your father being cash poor."
Elizabeth looked up, surprised. "Oh, well, I thought that would be clear enough. He's overextended himself in his investments and he's thinking of taking a mortgage on the land itself. If I marry Richard and bring my share of the property with me, Richard will settle his debts."
Nathaniel looked thoughtful.
"Richard would never sell you Hidden Wolf."
"No," Nathaniel agreed. "Richard has an uncommon appetite for land. And what about your brother?"
Her smile was sour. "Julian is part of the reason there's a shortage of cash. He had to be bought out of his debts, you see. He used up all his inheritance from our mother—and it wasn't an insignificant bequest, either. Then he started writing notes, and soon the damage was done. But hopefully he will have little opportunity to misbehave here. Although it's not his idea of Paradise."
Elizabeth hesitated. "This is a very comfortable house," she said, "but small, isn't it, for so many—" She stopped.
"You've never seen a long house he said. "Whole families together, a couple of generations, sisters and all their young. The Hode'noshaunee don't think anything of it. The Iroquois, as the French call them," he added, when he saw her blank look. "Or sometimes you'll hear them called the Six Nations."
"But you didn't grow up in a long house Elizabeth pointed out.
"No, I grew up right here. My father built this cabin when he married my mother. But I have spent some time in a long house And you're right, it's feeling kind of small these days."
Elizabeth was tracing the outline of the schoolhouse with one finger, and refused to look up at him.
"Next summer, if things go as planned, we'll build another cabin. Many-Doves is full of plans for it." Nathaniel paused. "But her husband will build it."
She was not going to ask or comment, he could see that. Nathaniel began to regret teasing her.
"She's getting married in the spring."
"Oh?" Elizabeth blinked slowly. "How nice for her. In the spring?"
"Or maybe the summer," he confirmed, grinning.
"And when do you think the schoolhouse will be finished?"
"Well, I hope the snow lets up some soon, otherwise it will be longer than I thought. But I would guess, late April. You wanted to get started, I know. But there's this snow, and the need to be hunting."
She glanced at the pelts on the walls.
"Aye, well." He wondered how much of the truth she could stand. "We were well provisioned, in the fall, even for three or four more people. But that changed."
Elizabeth ran her hands over the school plans. He could see that she was intensely curious, but also that she had more self—control than most.
"Late November, we were down in the village and somebody broke in."
The eyebrow rose again.
"Shut the dogs in the smokehouse, took every bit of dried and smoked meat, and the few furs we had at that point. Mostly we spend the fall hunting for winter stores, and the winter trapping for pelts, so it weren't so much the fur they were after. I guess we're lucky they didn't take the corn or the beans, or it'd be much harder going."
Her mouth fell open. "Who would do such a thing?"
Nathaniel shook his head.
"I've got my suspicions, but there's no way to prove it. Why is the more important question."
She turned her hand over on the table and wiggled her fingers. It was as close as she could come to hurrying him along.
"There's laws now against hunting out of season."
Elizabeth's back straightened. "If you can't hunt—" She paused. "And your provisions are gone—"
"There's nothing to do but go."
"Why the furs?" Then she held up a hand, not needing his answer. "So you couldn't buy what you needed. Somebody is trying to force you out."
He nodded, watching new emotions move on her face. Disbelief and then, reluctantly, belief. And on its heels, outrage.
"That's why you want to buy the mountain. Can you hunt if you own it?"
"Not out of season, at least, not legal. But we can keep trespassers off and maybe we can manage then."
She stood up suddenly, her lips pressed hard together. "My father?"
"No," Nathaniel said. "I'm sure of that much."
Elizabeth began to pace in the room, up and down, her skirts swirling, her boots clicking. Nathaniel could see the next question coming, but he waited for her to ask. "Richard Todd doesn't believe you have enough cash to buy the mountain." She ran her knuckles over her brow. "Was it him, Richard?"
Nathaniel inclined his head. "Maybe."
"But you told me that Richard deals straight with people."
He got up to join her before the hearth. "I told you he deals straight with white men."
Elizabeth bent her head over the plans, the lamplight shining white on the part in her hair. "Well, no," she said. "Not just yet, at any rate."
Her hands were narrow and very white, the oval nails glowing pale pink. She held them flat on the table. Nathaniel resisted the urge to touch the delicate pulsing of a vein where it negotiated the curve of her wrist.
"Well, then," Nathaniel said. "Tell me what you meant about your father being cash poor."
Elizabeth looked up, surprised. "Oh, well, I thought that would be clear enough. He's overextended himself in his investments and he's thinking of taking a mortgage on the land itself. If I marry Richard and bring my share of the property with me, Richard will settle his debts."
Nathaniel looked thoughtful.
"Richard would never sell you Hidden Wolf."
"No," Nathaniel agreed. "Richard has an uncommon appetite for land. And what about your brother?"
Her smile was sour. "Julian is part of the reason there's a shortage of cash. He had to be bought out of his debts, you see. He used up all his inheritance from our mother—and it wasn't an insignificant bequest, either. Then he started writing notes, and soon the damage was done. But hopefully he will have little opportunity to misbehave here. Although it's not his idea of Paradise."
Elizabeth hesitated. "This is a very comfortable house," she said, "but small, isn't it, for so many—" She stopped.
"You've never seen a long house he said. "Whole families together, a couple of generations, sisters and all their young. The Hode'noshaunee don't think anything of it. The Iroquois, as the French call them," he added, when he saw her blank look. "Or sometimes you'll hear them called the Six Nations."
"But you didn't grow up in a long house Elizabeth pointed out.
"No, I grew up right here. My father built this cabin when he married my mother. But I have spent some time in a long house And you're right, it's feeling kind of small these days."
Elizabeth was tracing the outline of the schoolhouse with one finger, and refused to look up at him.
"Next summer, if things go as planned, we'll build another cabin. Many-Doves is full of plans for it." Nathaniel paused. "But her husband will build it."
She was not going to ask or comment, he could see that. Nathaniel began to regret teasing her.
"She's getting married in the spring."
"Oh?" Elizabeth blinked slowly. "How nice for her. In the spring?"
"Or maybe the summer," he confirmed, grinning.
"And when do you think the schoolhouse will be finished?"
"Well, I hope the snow lets up some soon, otherwise it will be longer than I thought. But I would guess, late April. You wanted to get started, I know. But there's this snow, and the need to be hunting."
She glanced at the pelts on the walls.
"Aye, well." He wondered how much of the truth she could stand. "We were well provisioned, in the fall, even for three or four more people. But that changed."
Elizabeth ran her hands over the school plans. He could see that she was intensely curious, but also that she had more self—control than most.
"Late November, we were down in the village and somebody broke in."
The eyebrow rose again.
"Shut the dogs in the smokehouse, took every bit of dried and smoked meat, and the few furs we had at that point. Mostly we spend the fall hunting for winter stores, and the winter trapping for pelts, so it weren't so much the fur they were after. I guess we're lucky they didn't take the corn or the beans, or it'd be much harder going."
Her mouth fell open. "Who would do such a thing?"
Nathaniel shook his head.
"I've got my suspicions, but there's no way to prove it. Why is the more important question."
She turned her hand over on the table and wiggled her fingers. It was as close as she could come to hurrying him along.
"There's laws now against hunting out of season."
Elizabeth's back straightened. "If you can't hunt—" She paused. "And your provisions are gone—"
"There's nothing to do but go."
"Why the furs?" Then she held up a hand, not needing his answer. "So you couldn't buy what you needed. Somebody is trying to force you out."
He nodded, watching new emotions move on her face. Disbelief and then, reluctantly, belief. And on its heels, outrage.
"That's why you want to buy the mountain. Can you hunt if you own it?"
"Not out of season, at least, not legal. But we can keep trespassers off and maybe we can manage then."
She stood up suddenly, her lips pressed hard together. "My father?"
"No," Nathaniel said. "I'm sure of that much."
Elizabeth began to pace in the room, up and down, her skirts swirling, her boots clicking. Nathaniel could see the next question coming, but he waited for her to ask. "Richard Todd doesn't believe you have enough cash to buy the mountain." She ran her knuckles over her brow. "Was it him, Richard?"
Nathaniel inclined his head. "Maybe."
"But you told me that Richard deals straight with people."
He got up to join her before the hearth. "I told you he deals straight with white men."
