12

Liesbet pulled off her kapp as soon as she was out of sight of the house and hid it under a bush. George didn’t like her kapp. He said it reminded him of old ladies and starched collars, and he didn’t want any of it.

She slowed when she reached the clearing near the creek. It was here that she had met him this afternoon, and he had taken her to his secret hideaway in the woods. She paused, hugging herself. The way he had kissed her, murmured endearments in her ear, she knew he loved her. He had wanted to do more than kiss her, but she had held her ground. Hannah might think she was a foolish girl, but she knew what she was doing. She had George right where she wanted him—anxious to marry her. He must be, as insistent and pressing as his kisses were.

Of course they would get married, just as she wanted. He had said he wanted her to meet him again tomorrow, before he and his friends left on another trip to Philadelphia, and the thought made her shiver with anticipation.

And wouldn’t he be surprised when she came to him tonight? Once he heard about how Daed was planning to take her away, he’d let her come with him to Philadelphia, and they could be married there. George would do anything to keep her with him.

Liesbet turned to the creek trail and started toward Wenger’s Mill, where George had said his camp was. It was a long walk, but he would be happy to see her. The creek moved slowly here past the Metzlers’ farm, and the only sound she heard was a late frog plopping into the water. A dog barked in the distance. Liesbet almost tripped over a root and slowed her pace. It would do no good to arrive with a muddy skirt.

Hannah would never have a muddy skirt. She thought she did everything perfectly, and Mamm did too. Hannah’s kapp was never crooked, her hair always neatly twisted. Her dresses always fit, her apron was never wrinkled. She could cook and sew, and Mamm never looked at her with the same worried look she used for Liesbet.

Lifting her skirt to step over a fallen tree, she caught the hem on a broken branch. Liesbet pulled it free and heard a rip. She picked up the hem to examine the tear. Hannah would never tear her skirt.

But never mind. Liesbet dropped the torn hem and hurried on her way. Hannah didn’t have a handsome beau like George, either.

She hadn’t gone more than a mile past the Metzlers’ farm when she had to stop and rest. Last year’s shoes pinched her feet, and she was out of breath. She always got out of breath easily. Mamm said it was because of the diphtheria, but Liesbet knew better. She tired easily because she was delicate. A real lady.

A real lady. Liesbet’s breathing slowed as she let her mind dwell on her future. George was no farmer. They’d have a house in town. George had told her all about life in town. They would have a maid to do the cleaning and cooking, and their house would be beautiful, with furniture purchased in Philadelphia. Or better, the house would be in Philadelphia. They would live in the city. George would work at a fine job, and she would entertain her friends. He would be so proud of her and their fine home.

Liesbet looked around at the dark woods. If she wanted to get to Philadelphia, she would have to find George first.

She heard the camp before she saw it. She had been afraid she might be too late, that George would be asleep before she reached him, but she didn’t need to worry. No one could sleep through this singing and shouting.

Stopping at the edge of the woods, Liesbet watched the firelit circle of tents and baggage. In the center were a couple dozen men, drinking from bottles. Most were clad only in dirty red undershirts and breeches. They sat on logs or on the ground. A couple of them were dancing a jig as one played on a fiddle.

Finally she saw George, sitting on a log away from the fire, apart from the others. Liesbet slipped around the edge of the firelight and came up behind him.

George jumped when she laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Lass, what’re you doing here?” As he spoke, his voice a low, urgent growl, he stood and pulled her away from the firelight.

“I’ve come to go with you to Philadelphia, like you said.”

George didn’t say anything until he had pulled her into the trees, well away from the fire and his carousing friends. “You mean you want to come with us now?” He rubbed his face and looked back toward the camp. “You can’t, Lizzie. It wouldn’t be safe for you.”

“What do you mean? You’re here to protect me, aren’t you?”

“It just isn’t safe . . .”

He was being stubborn. Liesbet stepped closer to him, putting her arms around his neck and pressing against him. She could make him see things her way. “You always said you wanted me to come with you.” She pouted, even though he couldn’t see her face in the dark.

George pulled her arms down and held her hands. “I was just playing with you, Lizzie. This is no place for a girl. You go on home and I’ll see you when I get back from this trip.”

“But, George, I don’t want to go home. Daed is moving the family west, but I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you.”

One of the men in the camp was looking toward them. “Hey, George! What are you doin’ out there? Do we need to come and get you?”

George pushed at Liesbet, away from the fire and the men. “Go now, Lizzie. Get out of here. You don’t want these men to find you here.”

“But—”

“Go. Just go.”

She turned to walk away, but looked back once. George made a shooing motion, stepping back toward the fire. “Go on.”

He didn’t want her. He was sending her away. Liesbet stumbled over a root and fell onto her hands and knees, but George didn’t come to her aid. He turned away from her and jogged back to the fire, joining the man who had called to him, slapping him on the back.

Liesbet rose to her feet, brushing the dirt off her palms. Well, too bad for him. If he wanted to treat her that way, then he’d see what would happen the next time he came calling. The next time . . . Liesbet covered her face with her hands. But he loved her, didn’t he? Why would he do this?

She stood in the dark, watching George lead the next song. The men crowded around him, drinking from their bottles and laughing at the bawdy words of the song. They were all drunk. She smiled. Now she knew why George had sent her away. As drunk as these men were, they wouldn’t listen to George when he told them she was his girl. He sent her away to protect her.

She twisted a curl of hair on one finger. She rose on her toes and back down again, in rhythm to the song, humming along softly. He was protecting her. Once he came back from this trip, she’d convince him to quit this job and these fellows. They were going to be married, and he needed to find a job that would keep him at home with her.

She turned back to the road and started for home. With any luck, she’d be back in her bed long before dawn and before she was missed.

Hannah heard the teamsters’ camp before they saw it. Strains of music filtered along the road and deep voices sang in the night air, a low sound at this distance.

Adam cautioned her to silence with a finger to his lips as they approached the camp. A large fire in the center lit the scattered tents and the faces of the men who sat or stood around it. Hannah sucked in her breath at the sight of the slave hunters she and Adam had seen earlier in the day. The biggest of the pair upended a jug and passed it on to his friend before laughing at something one of the teamsters said.

Adam pulled her close to whisper in her ear. “There must be twenty or so of them. Do you see the man you’re looking for?”

Hannah looked at the faces around the circle. As far as she could see, George McIvey wasn’t there. She started to shake her head, but then a movement across the circle, at the edge of the firelight, caught her eye. She clutched at Adam’s arm and pointed. It was Liesbet, talking to George. She had found him. They were too late.

As they watched, George led Liesbet out of the light, into the darkness beyond. Adam took Hannah’s hand and led her around the camp to where Liesbet had disappeared. Hannah kept her eyes on the men around the fire, and saw George join them, but without Liesbet.

Adam stopped and his hand clenched around hers—a silent signal. She looked ahead and saw what he had seen. Liesbet was walking toward them, barely out of the light of the fire, watching George with the other men. When she saw them, she frowned.

“What are you two doing here?”

Adam grabbed her arm and pulled both of them into the darkness away from the camp. “Shush, Liesbet. Do you want those men to find you here?”

“You don’t need to worry about them. George would protect me.”

“Against that many? I don’t think so, Liesbet.”

Hannah took Liesbet’s arm. “What are you doing out here? We need to get home and back in bed before anyone knows we’re gone.”

Liesbet twisted her arm away from Hannah. “You didn’t need to follow me. I know my way around.”

She turned and walked away from them, toward the road. Hannah looked at Adam, but he was watching behind them.

“Is there something wrong? Did one of them see us?”

“I don’t think so, but I have to wonder what those slave hunters are doing here.”

“They probably wanted some company for the night.”

“I hope that’s all it is, and that they aren’t trying to recruit some of those toughs to work for them. It’s hard enough avoiding them.”

“Come on, Adam. I need to get Liesbet home.”

Adam stayed with Hannah and Liesbet all the way to their door.

“Denki, Adam.” Hannah whispered the words as she took his hand and pressed it briefly.

He nodded, the starlight making his face into craggy shadows. “You’ll be all right, then?”

Liesbet brushed past Hannah and into the house. She had been silent all the way home.

“Ja. We’ll be fine. I’ll make sure Liesbet gets to bed and stays there this time.”

Adam smiled, tired and soft. He reached up with one finger to caress her chin. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

Hannah nodded and went in the house as he turned to go home. She hung her cloak and bonnet on the hook just as the clock was striking two. Liesbet had already gone up the stairs and was in bed. Hannah undressed and slipped in bed, her back to her sister, and waited for sleep to come.

Liesbet turned once, and then again, making the rush mattress bounce on the ropes. Then Hannah heard a sniff, and another one.

She turned over and rose up on one elbow. “Liesbet, are you crying?”

“Ne.” She sniffed again.

“Whatever induced you to go looking for George tonight? Don’t you know how dangerous that is?”

“Why should I tell you? You’ll just go to Mamm and Daed, and then I’ll be in trouble again.”

Hannah touched Liesbet’s shoulder. “You can trust me, I won’t tell. Unless you’re doing something that can harm you.”

Liesbet gave a short laugh. “Ja, you won’t tell.” She turned over in the bed, facing Hannah in the dark. “You’ll go tell Mamm first thing in the morning, and then I’ll be in trouble. You were out tonight too.”

“Looking for you! I was worried about you.”

Liesbet was silent for a minute. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“What were you doing tonight? Why were you looking for George?”

“Why should I tell you? Why should you care?”

“He’s not the man for you. He doesn’t care about you.”

“You don’t know anything about it.”

“I saw him the day Daed and I went to Lancaster. I saw him with another woman. If you had seen how he was with her, you’d know he isn’t true to you.”

Liesbet sat up in the bed. “You’re wrong. He loves me.” Margli stirred and Liesbet dropped her voice back to a whisper. “He’s going to marry me.”

“Has he told you he loves you? Has he proposed?”

Hannah waited for Liesbet’s answer, but her sister was silent.

“I didn’t think so. You need to forget about him, Liesbet.”

“I can’t. I love him.”

Hannah lay back down on her pillow and turned over. “You need to forget about him before you do something foolish.”

“Foolish? Like what?”

How much did Liesbet know about what went on between men and women? Hannah turned back toward Liesbet. “Like letting him do more than give you a kiss. You can’t trust him to . . . restrain himself.”

“What if I didn’t want him to restrain himself?”

Hannah sat up. “Liesbet, you haven’t . . . You wouldn’t . . .”

Liesbet gave a little laugh. “Don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing.”

“Liesbet, tell me what you’ve done.”

She settled back down on the bed. “I’m only teasing you, Hannah. You’re always so serious about everything. George loves me, you’ll see. Now go to sleep.” She stifled a yawn.

Hannah lay back down next to Liesbet, but sleep didn’t come. She listened to Liesbet’s breathing slow and deepen, matching Margli’s whiffling breaths. It was too shameful to contemplate, that her own sister thought she was in love with an outsider. And Liesbet was rebellious enough, Hannah could believe that she just might go as far as to leave the family and go away with him.

What would such a thing do to Mamm? Death had torn the family apart already, but at least they had hope that they would see the little ones again. If Liesbet continued down this road, it would be her spiritual death they would mourn. That separation would last forever.