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THE SMELL OF BACON and the mound of yellow eggs on the table before Thomas in the West’s private kitchen drove a deep ache into his stomach.
He should have spoken to Elizabeth last night and certainly by this morning. He should have apologized for his cross words yesterday in the herb house. No telling what she believed about his silence. The fact the only plan he had come up with to take her along on Friday was for her to tell the authorities she was English did not set well with him.
She had refused to do so before. She could well do so again.
He pushed the plate away.
“Thomas.” His mother sighed. “I know ye have a lot to deal with, but ye need to eat.”
“Maybe later.”
He rose to his feet and made his way to the door. He had spoken at length that morning with his mother, William, and Alex about what to do for Elizabeth, but none of them had come up with more than he. His mother had been no happier about the scant options. And William had been quick to point out, despite the fact a law had not yet been imposed, that even if the lass did plead to being English, the authorities still did not have to let her leave Baltimore Town. Thomas could tell them of the doll and the threat to her life, and if he made it sound as if Iron Gun would attack the town and kill at will in his efforts to get Elizabeth, they might agree.
By that time, however, he would have scared the lass out of the last shred of sanity she had.
He stepped off the porch. He looked up to see Elizabeth coming his way, her eyes fixed on him with a black stare, her mouth quivering. Food stains splashed her apron. Her burned hand, flattened onto a splint of some kind, rested against her waist.
Had Hardwin bothered her again? He stepped quicker.
“Did you find a doll at camp that looked like me?”
He ground to a halt. His knees jellied.
“And . . . and had she been scalped?”
Who had told?
“Was it the doll Issy made me?”
“Lass—”
“Yes or no!”
One nod of his head.
“Where is it?”
“I sank it in the creek.”
“So someone took it from my cottage?”
“It would appear so.”
“Who?”
“I know not.”
“Was that why you wished me to sleep in the tavern?”
“Aye.”
“You did not even tell me I was in danger?” Then, more fear. “And you are leaving me all alone on Friday to face more of the same?”
“What?” He grappled for her shoulders. “No!”
She struggled. Her eyes flooded with water.
He tried to still her. “I have been wracking my brain night and day since the raid trying to think of a way to bring ye with me.”
“I trusted you.” She fought him harder. “You took care of me when I was sick. I took this job because you insisted it was the best thing I could do even though I hate it here.” She choked on a surge of anguish in her throat. “Do you know that just now I dropped three dishes and I had to clean them up with only one hand?” She lifted the good right hand upward. “And now I find out you have lied to me?”
“Not telling you things is not the same as lying.”
Her eyes raked him.
A Dhia, he was in trouble.
“And what else have you not told me?”
That I love you. That I will do anything, even lie, to protect you.
“Campbell Davis has offered to hire me.”
His hands scraped upward. He gripped her head between his palms. “No, Elizabeth! Ye canna even think of it!”
“’Twould not be here in town so I would not have to worry about someone bothering me in my cottage.”
“If ye would come with me to the authorities and claim your wish to be treated as English, they will more than likely let ye come along of us.”
“No.” She twisted her head and pulled away from him.
“I canna believe ye are so stubborn as to cling to being Acadian when being English would allow ye greater freedom, not to mention safety.”
“’Tis not that. I refuse to do so because I no longer wish to be near you. I cannot trust you.”
“And you can trust Matthew Hardwin?”
“Not Matthew, but Campbell Davis seems sincere enough.”
“Aye, but he will expect a marriage to Hardwin.”
“Only if I wish it and after my father arrives.”
“Ye canna be doing this, Elizabeth. Hardwin will lurk around every corner.”
“And what awaits me here? Hardwin and the Indians?”
“They will follow ye to Davis’ home, and he is hardly able to see to your safety.”
“At least he has not abandoned me.” She whirled around.
He stepped to go after her.
A hand pressed to his chest.
Mac stood before him. He nodded to Thomas’ right.
Issy stared at him with bright, wet eyes. “Ye dinna tell me of the doll? And now ye leave Elizabeth here alone?” She choked. “I thought she was going to be my sister.” She raced for the house before he could argue otherwise.
Around to his other side, crowds had gathered in clumps in the yard. Faces peered from windows. Some whispered. Others pointed.
He looked past Mac to see Elizabeth had fallen into Hannah’s arms.
“Let me handle it,” Mac said softly.
“I canna leave without her. And she . . .” The anguish threatened to render him senseless. “And she canna go with Davis.”
“I know, and I promise ye she will be on the wagon with us when we leave on Friday.”
––––––––
ELIZABETH SET THE BASKET of nappies to the ground.
She still had little control of the fear coursing through her.
She sniffed.
The tears, as usual, ruled her.
She had wept for a full hour in fits and starts in Hannah’s arms. The woman supplied one handkerchief after another. She elaborated on the many sins of Thomas McQueen. She swore Elizabeth was better off without him.
Elizabeth did not believe her for a minute. Hannah was as fond of the man in her own way as were they all.
And Elizabeth loved him. ‘Twas why his betrayal was so hard for her to bear.
She knew crying would do nothing. She had to think. She had to make decisions. At least back here in the washing area no one would bother her.
Men’s shoes stood to her right.
She tensed. If they belonged to Thomas . . .
She lifted her head.
Monsieur Mackintosh.
That was little better. He lifted the basket and dumped the nappies into the water. “I can never repay ye for saving Sarah’s life, as well as the life of my son.” He lifted a large stick from the ground at Elizabeth’s feet. “I have scheduled an appointment with Constable Radley for the morrow around noon. I wish ye to come along of us on Friday. Ye will have a job and a home.”
Now the man wanted to do something for her?
“’Tis too little too late. Besides, I am certain Tomas put you up to this, and I care not if he feels guilty for pushing me aside.”
“Thomas does not know I am here.” He pushed the water around. The nappies swirled this way and that. “I did tell him he needed to leave ye be, and I did assure him I would have ye on the wagon on Friday.”
The caustic laugh tore from her throat. “I have to hand it to you McQueen men. You seem to get everything you want.”
He pulled the stick out and jabbed the end in the ground. “I am not a McQueen.”
“Close enough.” She ran the back of her hand across her wet brow. “And your attitude is the same as theirs.” She grabbed the stick from him and sank it amid the nappies.
He crossed his arms. “So will ye come with me?”
“Non.”
“Why? Ye obviously have no love for Hardwin.”
She lifted the stick. A nappie dangled at the end. “Now I understand.” She dumped it into the kettle of unheated water. “If Campbell Davis had not offered me a place, you would not be here now.”
“Actually, I would.”
“Je ne te crois pas.”
“Elizabeth.” The huff burst from his throat. His arms unfurled. “I do not know any French at all. Please.”
“It means I do not believe you.”
He frowned. “Thomas has been working for several days to try and find a way to bring ye.”
She moved another nappie between kettles.
“Sarah is torn up at the idea ye might not come with us, and I do need your help with her.” He grabbed a nappie from the rinsing water. “’Tis the same with Thomas.”
“You need my help with Thomas?”
He twisted the nappie. Water rained downward. He flung the cloth outward and freed it of wrinkles and folds. “He cares for ye. He needs to know ye are safe so he can fight Iron Gun and his warriors.”
“And why has he decided to do so, when before he was leaving?”
The dimples either side of his mouth deepened. “Ye really dinna know?”
She frowned.
“’Tis because of ye, Miss Johns. Ye have not only brought him past Catharine’s death, but ye have given him a reason to battle Iron Gun and win his life back.”
She had?
The man folded the nappie over the top rod of a drying rack. “I will be at the stage outside The East and West tomorrow at noon. If ye are nae there, I will know what ye have decided.”
She managed, with only one hand, to finish the nappies. She served the evening meal in the tavern and, like she had at noon, she dodged Matthew’s questions in regards to his uncle’s offer.
That evening, she had barely freed Sarah from her compresses when the woman started weeping.
“I am sorry, Sarah. I do not wish to hurt you, but it must be done if we are to keep you from infecting.”
“’Tis not why I cry. Please, take Mac’s offer. You must come home with me.”
Elizabeth knew a lot of the woman’s woes were due to the difficult birth and her woman feelings afterward, but it made it little easier to bear.
In the hallway, Colina caught her in a fierce, silent hug. On the porch, Issy released a bucket of tears and the promise of a new doll if Elizabeth would come home with them.
“And if ye do no marry Thomas, ye could still be my sister.”
By the time Elizabeth made her way into West’s dimly lit private kitchen that evening with Sarah’s dishes, she was more cracked and faded than a forgotten Easter egg. Why her tears had not matched theirs she knew not. Maybe she had finally learned to control them.
More than likely, though, she was just dried up.
She placed the last cup on the shelf and turned. Matthew Hardwin stood in the doorway.
Her gut caved inward.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To bed.”
“Why did you not say so?” He grinned. He lifted his elbow outward. “I shall escort you to the cottage.”
“I no longer sleep in the cottage, but in the house.”
His brows furrowed. “Alright. I will walk you there.”
She had little choice but to take his offered elbow, but she set off at a rapid pace.
He was not pleased. “You are certainly in a hurry.”
“I am tired. I need some rest.” And I need to get away from you.
He rambled on about how nice it would be having her living at his uncle’s and how she would not have to work hard. “Eventually, I will see that you work not at all.” He twisted his left arm along her right like a morning glory attaching itself to a fence post.
She thought she was going to be sick.
“Are you not aware that my life has been threatened by Iron Gun?” she asked.
“Yes, but my uncle and I will protect you.”
“Tomas does not seem to think you can do so.”
“Thomas is losing his edge. ‘Tis obvious if he let such a raid happen last fall.”
The raid? Again?
“And you are in danger as long as you are with him.”
I am in more danger from you.
Were it not for Meggie and Philippe, she would have spoken her mind.
They stepped before the open door of West’s front hall. Thomas stood just inside the doorway. Her eyes locked with his.
“I was hoping we could go for a short walk?” Hardwin asked.
“I am too tired.”
“Alright. How about a nice sit out under the stars instead?”
“Non.”
She could feel the boy’s agitated stare pouring against her, but she could not unlock her eyes from Thomas.
“Alright.” Disappointment laced his heavy sigh. “I will see you in the morning for breakfast?”
Thomas still moved not, nor had he broken her gaze.
“Elizabeth?” Matthew said. “Breakfast?”
“Sure.” She flipped her hand at him. She felt, rather than saw, him leave.
Thomas eased toward her. “Lass, I saw no reason to tell ye of the doll nor scare ye in regards to your cottage before I knew who was responsible, especially as I had the situation under control.”
“Did he?”
“And why would ye ever think I would leave ye behind? I just dinna wish to speak of it before I had found a way.” His jaw shifted forward. “Ye must believe me, and if I could undo any of it I would.”
Her lungs emptied of air.
What exactly did he wish to undo? The past two years of war that had brought him to a place where he could not commit to her? His finding her at Fearnought Farms and bringing her here?
Or the loss of the doll and his regret at not speaking sooner of his plans?
And what did any of it matter now?
She stepped abreast of him. His heat waved against her. She wanted to rush into his arms and beg him over and over to never let her go. She knew he would do as she asked, and yesterday she would have sought such a joining.
Now, she had only regrets.
“You are not the only one, Tomas McQueen, who wishes things could be undone.”