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THE EAST AND WEST THAT morning filled with talk of the near emptying of the western border of families and the efforts of Colonel Washington to stop the draining by sending troops not only to the largest of the western forts but into enemy territory to root the Indians out.
Elizabeth had nearly changed her mind that morning at all the news. But then, she had seen Matthew, and he had smiled, and she knew she could not stay here. Thomas, despite the danger he had placed her in, was the only man capable of keeping her safe. Although what she would do about Meggie and Philippe she still knew not. Not even extra prayers early that morning had given her an answer.
“I am leaving on Friday with the McQueens.”
Matthew’s mouth dropped open. “But ‘tis only Wednesday.”
“Yes, but I have already made up my mind.”
The anger swept the boy’s face. “I will not allow you to do this.” He reached for her hand. “’Tis dangerous. You belong here with me.”
Her skin prickled. She pulled her hand free and stood to her feet.
He did the same. “What did McQueen offer? A marriage?”
Elizabeth’s hackles rose. Across the room Mistress Swain stared at her.
“’Twas not Tomas. ’Twas Monsieur Mackintosh.”
“Mackintosh?” He stammered. “No!”
“And after he speaks with Constable Radley this afternoon the deal will be done. Now excuse me, I have work to do.”
The words had fallen from her lips with a nasty spin, but she was desperate to be free of him.
She whirled around. She marched across the hall and into the other room. Behind her, plates and cups crashed to the floor. Chair legs raked the wood as men stood to their feet. Shouting came next.
Mistress Swain stopped before her.
Elizabeth pinned her with a cold stare. “I will not clean up his mess this time, especially since his being here is largely your fault.” She clenched her fists. Her spine shook.
The woman’s face darkened.
Silly rushed toward them. “I will see to the dishes, Mistress.” She smiled. “Sending Elizabeth back to Master Hardwin will only cause more trouble. Elizabeth can tend my duties.”
Mistress Swain’s face pinched tight. Elizabeth turned from it. “Merci, Silly,” she whispered.
“Do not mention it. We all have ardent suitors from time to time. Although you do seem to have more than most.”
At noon, Elizabeth made her way to the stage in the outdoor dining area.
Mac pulled himself from a post. “I was nae certain ye would come. But then I heard about what happened in the tavern this morning.”
The heat warmed her face.
“Dinna fash yerself. By Friday, we will be gone.”
And by then her stomach would be in a permanent knot.
They crossed Calvert Street. Mac told her how the conversation with Radley would likely go, although there were no guarantees.
“The important thing is to not get angry and walk out nae matter what I say. And whatever ye do, nae crying. Men like Radley get frustrated with a woman’s tears. He might let ye come, or he might get frustrated and refuse to discuss it further.”
The ire frizzed up her back, but she could not very well argue against the man since Thomas had told her the same. And she, of all people, understood how her emotions could rail away from her.
They stepped to the open front door. From the back of the house, voices rose and fell. Elizabeth recognized Matthew’s high pitched whine.
Her breath caught in her throat. “You did not tell me what to expect if they were here,” she whispered.
He sighed. “’Tis because I never thought of it.”
Radley’s manservant led them past a worn blue staircase to a room at the back. Sunshine poured through the windows and fired the dust littering the furniture.
Matthew stood from a center table. Radley and Davis followed suit.
“Gentleman,” Mac said.
He gripped her elbow. He steered her around the men and to the last chair left.
She tossed herself into the seat. Mac stood behind her.
The men sat.
Radley sighed. “It appears, Miss Johns, that despite the fact you are a French Neutral, you are a highly sought after young lady.”
Her face reddened. She lowered her gaze to her injured hand in her lap.
“Mr. Mackintosh,” the constable continued. “Since you made an appointment, you may go first.”
“’Tis simple,” Mac said. “I wish to hire Miss Johns.”
“This is a change.”
“Miss Johns, as I am sure ye have heard, saved my wife’s life.”
Heads bobbed.
“You also are aware that we are leaving in two days. My wife is still under the care of Miss Johns and will be for some time.”
Campbell Davis lifted his arms to the table top. “We are all aware of how highly skilled Miss Johns is.”
“Highly skilled?” she squeaked.
Mac’s fingers grabbed her shoulder.
She pressed her lips and quieted.
Davis turned to Radley. “Such services are needed here in town, and if she is given to me, I will see that she has transportation and an escort to help attend anyone in the surrounding community.”
“But Davis,” Mac said, “ye dinna know exactly what services she can perform. Not all women have difficult births.” He paused. “And men never do.”
Radley chuckled.
Davis was not amused. “It matters little what is being cut out. A bullet or a babe.”
Mac’s fingers, still on her shoulder, tightened.
“Besides,” Davis went on. “Word is she saved McQueen’s life before they came to town.”
She knew better than to argue against the tale.
“And you can say what you like,” Davis continued, “but the girl told me herself she worked with both her grandmother, who was a healer, and her father, who is a trained surgeon with the British army. Her credentials appear to be stellar unless she is a liar.”
It took all her willpower to keep from running. This was not going to go well at all, and she could now see what Thomas had tried to tell her. Campbell Davis may be a nice man, but his first loyalty was to Matthew.
Her gaze slipped sideways to the boy.
He wants me any way he can get me.
Her insides contracted to a tight ball.
“Radley,” Mac said. “Miss Johns is half English. She was offered a chance to stay in Acadia but chose to come here with her grandparents so they would not be alone. She should be allowed to come and go as she pleases.”
Radley looked at her. “Is this true? You did not have to come?”
Elizabeth braced for the wave of resentment and the words I am Acadian to burst from her mouth.
But they came not.
“I am fully half English,” she said. And she was. ‘Twas no sense in denying it. “The children and wives of the English were offered a chance to stay in Acadia, but in-laws could not. I chose to come with my grandparents as they were old and frightened.”
“Well, you may be English.” Radley shrugged. “But you are also fully Catholic.”
“And Davis is as well,” Mac said. “I, however, am not. And I understand the need in these parts for a healer, especially as disagreeable as Midwife Baine is.”
Radley laughed again.
“Miss Johns’ skills, however, will do you little good when Iron Gun’s warriors attack this town to find her.”
She spun around. Her gaze collided with his.
“Why would they do so?” Radley asked.
Mac’s mouth tightened. The dimples hardened into iron. He turned from her. “Because there is a price on anyone’s head who is known to be a friend of Thomas McQueen.” The blood flushed from her face. Her fingers shook. She spun back to the table.
Mac’s voice lowered and slowed. “Miss Johns will be in their clutches while your homes are burning and your families lay dying.”
Palms slammed to the table. Elizabeth jumped.
Matthew reared to his feet. “They will not come to town if she is with us.”
“Can ye guarantee that?” Mac pressed the words through his teeth. “Will ye agree to let it be known far and wide that the lass is at your place? And Radley, are ye certain the Indians will be aware of where she is? That they will nae bother the town in their efforts to find her?”
The room quieted.
Radley beaded a dark stare into Elizabeth. He lifted his hands. He cracked a knuckle. And then another and another.
Elizabeth swallowed the scream down her throat.
“Very well, Mr. Mackintosh.” Radley stood and made his way around the table to his desk. “You may have her.”
“Now see here.” Davis reared to his feet.
“No, Campbell.” Radley pulled a piece of paper from a desk drawer and slapped it to the top. “We will not provoke an attack on the town. Too many lives are at stake.” He reached for the quill and inked it. “And with any luck, when they see these people leave, we will then be forgotten.”
“Elizabeth.” Matthew’s face puckered with the pain. “I cannot believe you would throw away what I could give you.” He swung around and staggered into the hallway. The front door slammed.
Two documents later, one for Radley and another for Mac, and after what seemed like hours, Mac led her away from the constable’s house. He stopped not until they were back inside the fencing at The East and West.
“I can never repay you,” she said.
He smiled back. “As far as I am concerned, we are now even.”
She lifted to her toes and kissed his cheek. The long dimple quivered beneath her lips. Their eyes caught.
A wall of fire raced through her from head to toe. The look she had seen Thomas level at her just before he had kissed her in the meadow and later by the wharf passed through this man’s eyes.
A throat cleared to her right. She stepped away and turned.
––––––––
THE LASS BLUSHED AS red as an overripe apple. Thomas could feel the heat from here.
The others circled them. The mattress on Thomas’ head tottered to the left.
“Well?” he barked.
“’Tis done,” Mac whispered. “She is now mine.”
His? What did that mean?
The mattress slipped from Thomas’ hands and crashed to the ground.
Issy grabbed at the lass’ waist and squeezed and rocked. She let go and jumped back. “I will tell Sarah and Hannah.” ‘Twas the first time in days Thomas had seen a smile light the child’s face. She raced along the bricks. She turned and ran backward. “Oh, and Mama. I will tell Mama.” She whirled back to the front. “I have a sister! I have a sister!”
Mac told William how he had to convince Radley that Iron Gun was ready to sacrifice the town to find Elizabeth. For some reason, the lass dinna appear frightened at the idea. Had she understood the man was not far from the truth?
“Mac!” Thomas cried.
The others quieted.
His jaw nearly cracked from the strain. “Sounds like ye fared well. Thank ye.”
“Excuse me.” Elizabeth eyed him suspiciously. “I must get back to the kitchen and work.”
“Ye will no.” Thomas grabbed her arm.
She stiffened.
He was nae certain how much longer he could control his voice. Even his fists fired with a need to swing at something.
“I need your help packing. We leave on the morrow.”
“But ‘tis one day less for Sarah, and one day means the world to her.” She shared a concerned glance with Mac.
Thomas wanted to peel the man’s face off.
“Truly, Thomas,” William asked. “What difference does one day make?”
“One more day gives Hardwin and Davis another chance at trickery.” His gaze bounced from one to another. Finally, it landed on Mac. “And to trick one of us is to trick us all. Would ye nae agree, Mac?”
A war played across the man’s face. On the one hand, his need to spare Sarah the hardships of travel, on the other to protect her very person. After all, they were all in danger the longer they stayed here and besting Hardwin that day had not been in the best interests of any of them.
“Aye.” Mac sighed. “‘Tis best if we leave as soon as possible.”
“Elizabeth,” Thomas said. “Ye and I will go to the carriage house and have a look at the wagon.”
Fire poured from her eyes.
Mac’s fingers lit on her arm. “Do as he says. For Sarah’s sake.” He paused. “And for mine.”
‘Twas as if she were a puff pastry that had been poked with a knife so fast did the steam leave her. She spun around for the gate and Calvert Street.
The others, except for Mac, drifted off.
“Why were ye harsh with her?” he whispered. “We did what ye asked of us.”
“Aye. And I am now wondering why I involved ye at all.” He hauled the mattress up to his head and made his way to the gate.
He knew he was being stupid, but for some reason, he could nae help the fear that lurked alongside him. He may have been single the past two years, but he knew attraction when he saw it.
He kicked and twisted his way through the gate and to the road. He whirled around to Mac. “Why did she kiss ye?”
The mattress heaved to the side. Thomas shifted and bent his legs this way and that.
“So that is it?” Mac’s lips curled in disgust. “Ye are jealous?”
The mattress plummeted to the road in a puff of dust.
Thomas coughed.
Mac stepped back. “I thought ye had outgrown such foolishness.”
“This has nothing to do with Catharine.”
“Oh, does it not? Ye got the girl that time. And ye have the girl this time unless ye are fool enough to let her go.”
“So now I am a fool?”
“And a mighty big one. Elizabeth is angry with ye right now for a number of things and rightly so. But she has eyes only for ye. Ye are just too thick headed to see it.”
He clenched his fists at his side. “She is waiting for her father.”
“Nae, she is not. She is waiting for ye to declare yourself.”
Thomas’ mouth flew open.
“After all, her father canna bed her at night and hold her till morning while she battles her fears. Nor can he give her children. And despite the fact she belongs of me, if ye dinna marry her and soon, someone else will, for the lass is desperate for a home and someone to love.” He stepped up to Thomas’ face. “So aye, I suppose ye had better be verra verra glad that I love my wife.”
––––––––
THOMAS TOSSED THE MATTRESS to the bed of the wagon.
“Elizabeth,” he called. “Bring me a quilt from the back wall.”
He pushed the mattress. The straw inside twisted and scrunched in protest.
Where was she?
He looked over the bench and tongue. Not only had she nae moved from the center of the carriage house, but her eyes had tensed, her arms were crossed over her chest, and her feet were trenched into the ground.
Ach! This was not going to go well.
“What is wrong?” he asked.
“I do not like being told what to do.”
“In case ye were unaware, I am in charge of getting us all out of here by morning.”
The laughter snarled from her throat. “’Tis little chance I could forget. You will not let me.” She unfurled her arms and turned to the back wall.
“Come back here!”
Of course, she did not.
The ire licked up his spine. If she wanted a fight, he was primed and ready for one.
Boxes thumped this way and that. Some he knew to be quite heavy. All he needed now was for her to get hurt.
He stifled the groan welling from his gut, grabbed for the side of the wagon, and jumped. His feet slammed into the dirt.
He marched along the narrow passage between the wagon on his left and the stall boards on his right. He rounded his way to the front of the wagon and cleared the hitch.
Elizabeth was coming his way. Two quilts lay in her arms. But ‘twas her lips, pressed faster than a lid on an overwrought barrel of salt pork, that caught his attention.
And all he wanted to do was kiss her full on the mouth. He wanted to work his lips over hers till her mouth loosened, her frame weakened, and the only thing holding her upright was him. In that moment, he would make completely sure she was not thinking of Mac or anyone else.
Ach! What kind of a man was he when his temper turned from anger to passion? Catharine had never brought on such changes in him. Her words had always soothed. Her support had been unquestionable.
The lass shifted the load closer to her chest and stepped past him. Her shoulder brushed his. A hot wave swept into his belly.
He followed her into the narrow passage.
She spun around. The quilts smashed between her chest and his ribcage. He groaned and grabbed for the load. His fingers grazed hers.
More fire. This time up his arm and into his head. He tossed the quilts up and over the side of the wagon. They landed onto the mattress with a whisht.
“Why did ye kiss Mac?” The words were out before he could stop them.
She shrugged. Her mouth opened in a search for words.
“Do ye like him?”
Her dark eyes blazed hot. “Il est une bonne question.”
“’Tis so fair to ask! Do ye like him?”
“Really, Tomas. I cannot believe you would ask such a thing.”
She squeezed between him and the stall railing, her backside rubbing against first one of his thighs and then the other. It took every ounce of strength he possessed to keep from grabbing her and pinning her to the wall. The lass had nae idea what she was capable of doing to him.
And she will nae ever learn if ye just give up the future and let her choose someone else.
He lunged. He grabbed her arm and spun her around. “I am sorry. I have not been fair. I asked Mac to help and he did.” He let her go. “Go get more quilts. I will spread what ye already brought.”
The confusion swam in her eyes.
That made two of them
He turned. He grabbed the wagon’s side till he was certain his knuckles would crack.
Dear God, he wanted to be with her night and day. He wanted to love every part of her. He wanted to chase away her fears. He wanted to argue over nothing important then spend hours making up.
And he could do none of that. If he chose to fight for his life, he could guarantee her nothing. Even if she agreed to such a risk, he could not promise her a future.
But if he could somehow free himself of Iron Gun’s threats, would she consider being with him then? Would she stay here?
Would she choose him over her father?
One thing was certain. He would have to wait for the anger they had just practiced to settle before asking. While such was good for long hours of making up, ‘twas not so good for making decisions unless love was practiced first.
He lifted himself into the wagon. He shook the quilts free of their folds and spread them. Two more should do the trick so that Sarah could ride in some comfort. Thank goodness the nights were warming and the rest of them would have little need for much covering.
And where was Elizabeth?
“Lass?” he yelled. “Where are ye?”
She came around the corner and stopped just inside the narrow walkway. She had no quilt, and yet she stared at something in her hands.
“What do ye have there?”
She swayed. Her face lifted. The terror snarled through her eyes.
The hair on the back of Thomas’ neck lifted. He looked again at her hands.
Nae! How could it be so?
He leaped over the wagon and staggered toward her. She lifted her hands upward and turned the thing around.
He froze. The fear catapulted against his spine.
Gràdhach Dia ann air nèamh!
This changed everything.