Neha’s return—The voyage home
Josiah’s decision to push straight to Neha’s homestead without stopping meant two days of grueling travel crushed into one. The two women were in mourning, numbed by the previous night’s ordeal. They rode meekly in single file, with little talk. When prodded to eat, Neha mumbled, “I am Mary.” She moved as if everything around her was a dream she hoped to wake from soon.
As they came close to her kin’s homestead, Anne was shocked when Josiah stopped and offered to make coffee for them. Previously he had treated them as less than human.
“Perhaps you should make her more presentable? For her relatives’ sake,” he said.
Neha was far past the state of being able to be cleaned up. The gash along her ear had crusted black, while the rest of her face purpled as bruises formed. One eye was almost closed shut.
“Maybe we’ll explain she fell off her horse,” he suggested.
“I will not,” Anne answered.
His face loosened with the return of his habitual temper.
“Do you insist on revealing her shame first? Before there is a chance for a slip of affection to be formed?”
He taunted Anne with his wrongdoing.
“Perhaps you should have considered that last night,” she said.
“Ungrateful girl.”
* * *
WHEN THEY ARRIVED at the homestead, a crowd of relatives and neighbors formed. A great-uncle, who only remembered Neha’s mother from childhood, had agreed to take her in, and he greeted her like a long-lost daughter. As he opened his arms, Anne recalled her own father and felt the bitterest of tears. She could not recall the feeling of happy innocence she’d had in her own family. Such emotions had withered away. For the first time she felt the size of her loss.
Neha resisted the man’s embrace, believing this was her new chief until Anne explained the family relation. When the uncle’s wife came out and wrapped a shawl around Neha’s shoulders, she clung to the woman, sure that the crowd of onlookers intended her harm. Anne had to patiently explain that these were kindly, Christian people, who treated their own well.
“But I am an Indian,” Neha wailed, and Anne could only give thanks that her words were not spoken in English so they could be understood.
They were invited to spend the night. Anne greatly desired to stay and help settle Neha in her new surroundings. A loving family, which this one appeared to be, was a gift after all these years. She wished time to savor it. Josiah, however, frowned. He insisted loudly to onlookers that they must press on, that he had been away from his parish and his fields far too long and would be sorely missed.
It did not escape Anne’s attention that before they left he transacted business with Neha’s uncle. Money passed hands. As they said their goodbyes, the realization came to Neha that she would be left with these strangers, and she clung to Anne. At last two male cousins were forced to restrain her. Josiah hastily mounted and bade Anne do the same, as if the relatives might change their minds at the worth of their transaction and refuse the girl.
“Take care, Mary,” Anne said. “I will come to visit soon.”
After they had ridden a distance, Anne could stay quiet no longer.
“We were not ransomed. You paid out no monies.”
“Time and effort are not without their value,” he answered.
“That is the reason you would not allow her to escape?”
“You are a bright girl. It must run in the family.”
“Honesty was supposed to be a prime virtue in our family also.”
“Speaking of. You will say nothing of the existence of your children when we reach home. You will deny your ruination. We will say that you are untouched, unsullied.”
Anne rode in silence, his ploy of shaming her effective.
Josiah studied her as he sucked his teeth. “You are a sly boots. In case any bright ideas are forming, don’t even think of attempting to flee. In your case it’s the family honor that is at stake. My honor. You have been rescued from the heathen inferno. You are saved, your soul redeemed. Rejoice, child!”
He laughed to himself as at a great joke, never sharing the cause of his hilarity.