Isaac stomped out of the woods. What was the woman thinking, traipsing off into the swamp like that? Hadn’t she heard the stories of the criminals in swamps of Princess Anne?
It wasn’t going to play well in the overall group either. He’d already heard several times from Reverend Edwards all about his disapproval of a woman traveling alone. Isaac could already feel the preacher’s influence in the group. He’d seen them nodding ascent as the man intoned his opinions like he was reading from the Epistles. Well, he’d deal with it, but this latest wrinkle caught him by surprise.
It shouldn’t have, the vehemence Zeke displayed when he insisted that Miss Beti was not safe to travel on her own. The fact that he couldn’t let the subject drop, that he taken an instant dislike to Toby Abbott. Yet it wasn’t until he’d seen Zeke’s fierce protection of her as he held Miss Beti in his arms that it hit him like a tomahawk. Hezekiah Smith was smitten. And if Isaac knew Zeke, and he did, he could be sure that Zeke was fighting his feelings with all his might.
A rare laugh escaped his lips.
Aggie stared at him. So she heard that did she. Well, he’d deal with that too.
“Cap’n?” She trailed him.
He spun. “What?”
“Is Beti safe?”
The sentiment did her credit, still he couldn’t keep the scowl off his face. “The fool woman wandered off into the woods, but yes, she is safe now.”
Charity Edwards stepped away from her uncle’s wagon. He’d yet to hear the woman speak. Which was not surprising since her uncle had enough to say for three people. “Did ye say she walked into the woods?”
Isaac was struck by her voice. Not prim or missish it was deeper than most women without being dusky or raspy. It was at once mannish and completely feminine.
“Aye.”
“I would have thought a child would know better than to walk off into some strange woods by herself.”
So that’s what she was like then. Too bad. He agreed with the sentiment, but he didn’t like the way she said it. “Aye.”
He touched the brim of his tricorn. “Ma’am.”
“Did I say something amiss?” The words reached him, but he kept moving toward his mount.
“No, it is just him.” He swallowed a smile at Aggie’s answer.
“We will push on before we stop to eat,” Isaac informed Gordon as he stepped up on his right.
“I figure we’ll clear this patch in about an hour, we can hold out until then.” Gordon answered.
“How’re the boys? I don’t have to tell ye to keep yer eye on them.”
Gordon squinted his annoyance. “I choose not to challenge ye on that ludicrous question this time.”
Isaac paused. “We will talk later. Right now I think we get outta here.”
* * *
“My sheep!” Beti ran toward the road.
Zeke was never so thankful for a dog in his life. He’d have to find a bit of something good for her later. Surely he had a savory piece of beef she would relish.
He followed behind Beti. Mose stepped in behind him.
Zeke cursed his slow-moving, stiff leg. The terrain woven with roots and strewn with twigs, straw and other debris hindered his progress with every step. Soon, it would be better. Soon he would be normal again. Unless he wasn’t, but Doc Jones told him it could take a year. It hadn’t been that long. Not yet.
“I know I am supposed to be upset about Miss Beti getting captured and all,” Mose said to his back, “but this is the first time I felt like normal in months.”
Zeke took note of the lightness in his own heart. He’d attributed it to the miraculous wonder of holding Beti in his arms, but Mose might be on to something. “Yer right, it’s the first time I felt normal since we got home.”
“Ye suppose it is gonna go away?”
“It must. Folks don’t live their lives at war all the time.”
“Aye. That’s true. Shame though.”
Zeke turned to face him when they reached the road. “Surely ye don’t wish to go back to war?”
“Not exactly. I don’t miss the killing part.” Mose scuffed his boot and rubbed his neck.
Zeke’s perspective came back down to the dirt he was standing on. “How about the part where we wait around for hours or days with nothing to do but sit until some higher-up decides what they want us to do today?”
Mose snorted, his blue eyes sparkling under the overlong blonde reeds hanging near to his cheeks. “No. The adventure part. Ready in a few minutes to hare off to do what some General needs us to do. Traveling everywhere and anywhere at the click of a rifle. No ties. Just freedom.” He swiped the air above him.
“It sounds romantic enough when ye say it like that, Mose. But ye forget, I lived it, and I am glad not to be going back.”
“Ye wouldn’t say that if ye didn’t have a bum leg.”
Anger flared red hot. “Mose.”
“I don’t mean nothing by that. I just mean that yer not as free as ye once was.”
Zeke’s hope deflated. “Ye’re right.”
“That don’t mean ye cannot have a great time and all…” Mose let the words trail off as he drifted back to his horse. Zeke forgave him for his openness. What had Mose said that was wrong? Zeke wasn’t as free as he once was, and it was just as well that Mose pointed it out. He had no business holding Beti in his arms, or worse, wishing she could be there always.
Not that she would be if she kept making stupid choices like walking into an unknown swamp by herself.
He found Beti with her sheep surrounded by their fellow travelers.
“Even my Timmy knows better than to wander off into the woods alone.”
“How dumb was that?”
“Ye put us all in danger.”
Beti stood back up against the transom of her wagon arms wrapped around herself shaking. Did they not see her distress?
Outrage pushed him forward.
“That’s enough.” Toby said. “I agree with what ye’ve said, but I think Miss Beti’s been through enough for one day, don’t ye?”
“She has no right to put us in danger—” Mistress Baggage snapped.
“She deserves to hear what we think—” Mistress Hardbottle added pointing her finger at him.
Zeke moved to the center of the cluster and raised his hands for quiet. “And she has heard what ye think. We will be starting up soon. I expect ye’ll be needed by yer families.”
And with that they dispersed grumbling as they went.
“Once again I find myself indebted to ye, Mr. Smith.”
The longing to take her in his arms again until the trembling stopped startled him by its strength. “Well, now, I think Nellie is deserving of a large piece of that thank ye. Truth is I came to tell ye the same things as those ladies, but it looks as if it’s been taken care of for me.”
“Aye. Well, I should see to Silas.” The sheep were under Nellie’s care on the opposite side of the road.
She moved away as stiff-legged at he was. He followed unwilling to leave her just yet. The pain in his leg was unyielding. “How do ye fair?”
She kept her distance arms still wrapped around her waist. “Oh, I am well enough, Mr. Smith. Thank ye again for all ye did for me today.”
“That’s the best trained dog I ever saw.”
“Started training when she was still a pup. She knows to come when I call her.”
“But she heard ye.”
“Aye. She can hear a much longer distance than folks think. ’Twas no distance at all today.” Surrounded by her sheep and Nellie, Beti let down her arms and moved once again to her wagon. She emerged from its depths with a rifle nearly as tall as herself. After expertly priming the pan, she slung the weapon over her shoulder using a brightly woven tape of red, white and blue, that reminded him of the flag.
She ordered the cluster around her and remained until her wagon creaked forward. She was going to stay in-between the wagons.
Thankfulness bloomed as Zeke took his seat on the bench and stretched his leg out.
* * *
Beti joined her sheep glad for her hook to lean on especially with the added weight of her rifle hung by a newly woven tape across her body. The trembling would stop soon. She’d been through it before.
And just how many of the concerned mothers who’d accosted her would have let an unattended child meander off into the woods? No one had even asked her what had happened. Oh, Beti understood their reasoning. Of course, she should have known better. An offspring of a pirate learned to be careful everywhere, not just the woods. Heat ran up the back of her neck, and her stomach twisted at the memory of the feel of the bad man holding her so tightly against his body. And the woman with her roving hands.
Beti fingered the letter sitting in her pocket. Her mother’s kingdom. Did the emissaries want her to come home? And when had she started thinking of her mother’s kingdom as home? It wasn’t. For all she knew the emissaries came to kill her off to ensure the line of the throne for someone else. For some reason that Beti didn’t know, her mother had left and refused the crown when it was offered. Beti would be wise to remember that. No more foolish decisions based on what she was feeling in the moment. One of those was enough for this lifetime.
A longing drew at her heart. She would be accepted there would she not?
Of course, nothing was ever as simple as it seemed. After one day on the trail, she’d managed to turn the group of people she’d hoped would be her community against her. They all thought she shouldn’t travel with them, that she’d put them in danger.
With a sigh she looked back to Zeke’s wagon only to catch his eye and a smile. She put a hand to her chest. She would never forget the feel of his arms as they cradled her after the attack.
Beti turned her face to the sun and indulged in a sigh of relief as she exited the last of the swampy woods. Warmth without the pressure of humidity was felt across the stubby field before them. Silas traipsed off to the left, the ewes trotting happily along behind him. Nellie brought them back.
Zeke made his way up the wagon train. Beti brought her sheep forward.
The walking she’d done since the incident in the woods had restored her appetite with a vengeance. Beti carved a generous piece of ham and placed it on a leftover biscuit. She made two for Toby before hefting a water bowl for Nellie and taking a seat on an uneven stump. Silas and his crew munched happily on the new grass sprouting in the ditches next to the road. From her perch she could see all twelve wagons. Mistress Hardbottle and Mistress Baggage each sent her scolding looks in turn. Even Aggie, whom she thought of as a friend cast a worried glance her way.
The old longing once again drew on her heart. She had hoped these people would become her friends. She wasn’t so naive as to think they would be perfect. That wasn’t possible, but the hope of belonging to a community faded with each glance at the families before her bustling to feed themselves and take care of other necessities during this short break. She raised her mother’s bracelet to her nose.
At least they were angry at her for something she had in fact done. The thought made her smile.
“How long have ye had that dog?” The young Curd boy gazed up at her from the shadow of his hat. He chewed a well-formed biscuit with an overlapping piece of ham.
“Since she was a pup.”
“Did she really come to yer rescue in the swamp?”
Beti grinned at the child. “Yes, she did.”
Mrs. Curd appeared behind her boy, “I beg ye pardon, I hope Sammy has not inconvenienced ye. We have been speaking of yer remarkable dog.”
“’Tis no inconvenience to me, I love to speak of my Nellie.”
“Have ye recovered from ye ordeal this morning?” Eyes of soft blue scanned her up and down. “Did ye get hurt?”
Beti looked down to hide the teary response to the unexpected kindness of the woman. “I am well.”
Mistress Curd took a couple of steps forward to place a gentle hand on her arm. “I am sure I would have been frightened to death.” The woman made a laugh-like sound. Strength of mind blazed through the soft eyes.
All at once, Beti understood. “I do not believe that.”
“Do not ye?”
“No ma’am. I believe ye are made of sterner stuff.”
A slight lift of her lips, “Aye, perhaps yer right.”
“I must confess that I am frightfully sorry that I put us all in danger by my mistake.”
“Would ye care to tell me exactly what it is ye did to put us all in danger?”
Beti told her story in a few words. Satisfaction surged in her breast at the mere opportunity to be heard. It would make no difference of course, but she got to tell at least one other person and that felt great.
“There ye have it,” Beti finished. “I am terribly sorry I put us all in danger.”
“If ye account is true, and I have no reason to doubt ye, it seems to me we were all in danger in any case. Ye found it out and made us aware that we are right to be cautious. I thank ye for ye bravery.”
“I am not brave.”
“Nonsense. Ye chased a child not yer own into a dangerous swamp to protect it from harm. That is brave.”
Beti’s cheeks heated with the praise. The woman had gone too far in her assessment. Beti’s contentment lie in the rare opportunity to tell her own story.
The telltale creeping of the forward wagons had them both scrambling for position.
“We shall speak more.” Mistress Curd once again placed a gentle hand on Beti’s arm. “Take heart, ye have friends here. Come along, Sammy.”
The rest of the road to Norfolk was flat with plenty of new green tufts along the way to please Silas and crew. Each time she paused with her herd, Zeke paused his wagon a grin on his face. They pulled into the old harbor town at dusk. The air smelled of the salty Elizabeth River and the slightly farther off Chesapeake Bay. Ghostly shapes of burned-out buildings haunted the horizon. A shiver ran down Beti’s spine at thoughts of the lives lost and ruined.
“Looks like someone is rebuilding.” Zeke nodded to two large brick houses in different stages of completeness.
“I heard they was Tories,” Toby offered.
“I would not have thought that was possible,” Beti said giving Nellie a bowl of water.
“The Tory presence here was strong,” Zeke replied.
“I hear the English say they’ll only trade with Portsmouth once the trade resumes,” Toby continued.
“Will trade continue? I would have thought too much bad blood and passed under that bridge,” Beti asked.
“Nah, nothing stops the commerce. Just who gets the taxes.” Toby grinned and brought a finger to the brim of his hat. “I will be back for supper.”
“Can we see yer shop from here?”
“Aye.” Zeke pointed to a burned-out lot down an unnamed street.
“I should like to see it.”
“Not much to see now.”
Beti scanned the area. Aside from the new brick houses, a few wooden buildings bravely stood amongst the rubble. Men moved slowly through unpaved streets hauling the tattered scraps of lives that had once called the little town home. The port itself, once crowded with warehouses and ships laden with cargoes from the Indies, Europe and all points east, lay flat. The view was clear across the river to Gosport. The hollers of the ferryman mingled with the hammers of workers and the creaking of wagons removing debris to a smoldering pile on the waterfront.
“Aye.” Beti searched his eyes. “Is it too much to build here again? Is that why ye go west?”
“No.”
When he didn’t continue, Beti retrieved ropes she brought for the purpose and began to tie her sheep to the wagon. Thank God she only brought six of them.
“The shop was my grandfather’s then my father’s.” He kept his gaze toward the unnamed street. “My father died before the war. My mother and sister fled the first conflagration with my aunt and uncle. They’ve gone to North Carolina.”
“But the war is over. You could rebuild here.” Beti waved her hand toward the men working.
Zeke slapped a hand on his thigh. “I want something new.” He brought his eyes to focus on hers. Guilt and something she couldn’t identify colored their depths. Protectiveness swept through her soul. She actively restrained her arms for reaching out to comfort him.
“Ye mother and sister survived.”
He nodded. “And I intend to keep it that way. Nothing and no one will hurt what is mine again.”
Beti’s breath caught. She wanted to be loved like that.
“Let me help ye.” Zeke stepped up to Silas before Beti could form a word of caution. Silas rammed his thigh. Zeke rotated, slipped on his good leg, tried to catch himself on the bad one, and landed smack on his backside.
“Are ye all right?”
Laughter sparkled his amber eyes. “Naught but me pride wounded.”
* * *
A hint of a giggle released from Beti’s soft lips, and Zeke found he couldn’t look away. Her braid sat over her shoulder, frizzy tendrils haloed in the light of the setting sun. The sound of her laughter lightened all the events of the day.
“If ye had waited, I would have told ye not to approach Silas. He’s a ram, and though he’s happy with his ewes right now, he’s always a bit unpredictable. Ye’ve no experience, have ye?” She separated her feet and offered her arm.
Zeke glanced around, the wagons were just out of reach, and none of his compatriots were nearby. Avoiding her eyes lest he see censure or worse, pity, he accepted her arm and hoisted himself up. He found her uncommonly strong. Her stance didn’t falter as he quickly found his balance. She stumbled only when he released his hand, and she fell right into his arms.
When he’d held her in the swamp, his thoughts had been for comfort. To feel that she was alive and to let her know that she was safe and he would protect her. How had he missed the sensuous curves of her body fitting so rightly into his? Her eyes widened with a sharp intake of breath. Did she feel the same?
He stepped away and slapped at the dust on his breeches. “Well now, I have experience enough, just not with sheep.” Heat blazed up his neck. He sent a hand down the back to cool the fire. “What I mean is—”
“I know what ye meant.”
With practiced ease, she stepped up to Silas and took him by the head. She cupped his chin and placed a rope over his head. She held the rope, and thereby his head, close as she maneuvered the ram to a place at the back of her wagon. She now had one sheep at each of the corners and one each in the middle of her wagon. All the ropes gave plenty of slack for grazing. Zeke looked on in wonder, she had prepared herself for this trip better than he’d assumed she could. Could he have misjudged her?