Flora sang softly to herself as she worked. She'd never learned to weave back in Scotland, and she thought that if she had, she'd have been thoroughly ashamed of her efforts now.
'Here's another pile,' Jamie gasped as he dropped an armful of willow beside her. 'Collecting these is just as hard work as dropping huge fir trees.'
Flora smiled her thanks. Last night they had slept under the wheels of the waggon, on sacks filled with straw. Tonight, if she worked hard, they would have a roof over their heads. It would be their first home in Canada.
She picked up another of the willow fronds and threaded it through the stout ash branches, pushing it down firmly against the others to make a closely woven, solid base. When this piece was finished it would join the others which, propped up on the trunks of the thin fir trees Jamie had felled, and covered with the wild hay Bruce was even now scything, would give them a roof.
Jamie had wanted her to remain in York until he'd built a more permanent shelter, but she'd refused.
'I need to be with you,' she insisted. 'It's summer, it's hotter than we're used to, even at night, and we'll take no harm sleeping out for a while. I can help you, even if only with the cooking.'
That morning, after milking their new cow, and collecting four eggs from the hens still confined in their coop, she'd made them all breakfast. Jamie's plot of land, three times longer than it was wide, stretched from the dirt track which was the main road out of York down to the bank of the lake. The two plots Bruce and Gordon were to rent from him, similar in size, were on the far side of the road, backing onto a small stream. It took a good five minutes to walk from their plots right down to the lake. The O'Briens and the remaining family from the glen were a little further along the road. For the time being, though, they had decided to make camp all together.
It had taken all day to drive the heavily laden waggons out from York, since none of the families could afford to buy more than one horse. These would later be used for ploughing and other farm work. Even while she and the other women had prepared beds for them all, the men had taken their axes and begun felling trees for their rough tent-like shelters.
Flora had been dismayed at her first sight of her new home. It was a trackless, wild expanse, covered in trees. Many of the trees were dead, and lay on the ground or leaned drunkenly against their living fellows. How on earth would they ever clear enough land to make fields and pastures? At the moment it was impossible to drive the waggon far into the trees, so they had set up camp close by the road.
They'd been up at dawn today, eager to get started. Isabella had volunteered to keep the children occupied while the rest gathered the materials needed. The horses were hitched to the dead trees and hauled them to make a pile at the side of the plot.
'At least there's plenty of firewood,' Isabella said. 'We can build a fire and later I can cook,' she said cheerfully.
She seemed to have forgotten her husband's tragic death and Annie's desertion. Once, on the last boat, she'd looked at Matthew and commented that at least she need no longer worry about having to bear more children. 'I'll be happy just to care for those I have, and live a peaceful life,' she added when Flora looked enquiringly at her.
Flora sighed a little and looked to where Jamie had once more taken up his axe. They'd have a cabin of sorts within a week, he'd promised. But would she ever have any more children?
Gordon and the other men had gone to their own plots and begun clearing away the dead trees and felling others near to where they wanted to build. After a while Gordon took his gun and went down to the lake, returning in a remarkably short time with a dozen rabbits and three ducks strung to a short pole which he carried over his shoulder.
'That will do us for several days,' Isabella exclaimed when he dropped them down beside her.
'We'll not starve,' he grinned. 'I could have got twice as many. And I've set a few fishing lines, tomorrow maybe we'll have fish for dinner.'
As Flora worked she could hear the chopping of the axes, the occasional crashing fall of trees, the swishing of the scythe, all amidst the twittering of birds and the gentle splash of the waves on shore. Less distinct was the humming of insects, and she began to make plans for capturing a swarm of bees. They might even be able to make their own honey. This was a land of plenty.
By the time the rough shelters were erected, the roofs thatched after a fashion with the dry hay, and everyone fed, the children were exhausted. They curled up on the straw palliasses and were fast asleep within seconds. Meg sank down beside them.
'I'd rather scrub floors or carry coals upstairs all day,' she said wearily.
Jamie laughed. 'It won't be for long. In a couple of days we'll have enough trees to start putting up the cabins. Flora, do you have the energy to walk round with me and decide where you want it to be?'
Bruce and Jane decided to do the same.
'Go on,' Isabella urged. 'Meg and I will stay with the children.'
The boundary of the plot had been marked out roughly, though for most of the way it followed the course of a small stream. 'I'll have to make fences soon,' Jamie said as he led the way between the trees. 'Our land goes straight down here to the edge of the lake. Let's walk along the boundary.'
The trees, of at least a dozen types, grew thickly together, and often it was difficult to force a way through..
'It will take months to clear!' Flora said after they'd been walking for ten minutes.
Jamie took her hand to help her clamber over a fallen elm. 'There's time, no need to rush. And I mean to leave some of the bigger, spreading trees for shade.'
He kept hold of her hand, and Flora felt her heart race. This was just the way she'd felt when he'd partnered her in the ballrooms of Edinburgh, when his slightest touch had set her on fire.
'We'll have to clear enough land over the winter to grow food,' she managed to say.
'Yes, and hay and oats. Flora, I've been thinking, and I really believe the way to prosper is to provide what other men need but cannot obtain for themselves. Out in the wilderness here, everyone needs horses. It's good land for them, and people will need them for working on farms as well as drawing carts, and for riding.'
'It would certainly be easier and faster to ride to York than drive a waggon,' Flora said. 'They use the lake and rivers most of the time, and don't seem to care what state the roads are in.'
'But there are many times when boats are not the answer. And as more settlers come they'll have to clear land further from the water.'
'With so many rivers they need more bridges. I thought we'd never lever the waggon out of that one river ford.'
Jamie nodded. 'So I plan to breed horses. What do you think? Once we have land cleared for growing hay for them and food for us, we can gradually clear paddocks, and build up a herd of mares. I have the capital to be able to afford to wait, which the others can't do. They need to think about crops to sell as soon as possible.'
'It's a more interesting prospect than endless fields of corn. I always preferred the animals at home, but sheep and cattle would be more difficult here, I suppose. Horses sound good.'
'So as soon as we have some grass I'll buy mares. We'll need a good stallion too, but for this year I'll just buy mares in foal. That will be enough, all we have fodder for. Now, where would you like a house built?'
They had emerged onto the shore of the lake, and Flora looked round in delight. The ground sloped gradually right to the water's edge, and she could see in her imagination a landing stage, a small boathouse, and even a summerhouse where she might sit in the heat of the day and do her embroidery as she gazed across the water, where there were several boats to be seen.
'This is beautiful,' she whispered, and Jamie slid his arm round her and pulled her close.
'We'll have a good life here,' he said softly, and as she turned to look up at him he drew her into his arms and held her tightly.
'I do love you, Flora,' he said, his voice thick with emotion, and she reached up and pulled his head down so that she could kiss him, long and hard, the first such kiss they had shared for months.
Her eyes were wet when he released her.
'There's no time for dalliance,' he said shakily. 'Where shall we build our house?'
***
They decided they would devote a day to each cabin, the men working together, and within a week every family of the small community would have their own home. The trees were felled and cut to length, stripped of bark, and dragged into piles near where the cabins were to be erected. Flora had decided to have theirs right at the side of the plot, a short way back from the lake shore, where the stream, now several feet wide, ran close by. With water to hand they would not need to sink wells, and this would save time and effort.
'It will be better to plan for the better house somewhere near the shore, in the middle,' she decided. 'This can become a barn or a shelter for the animals later on.'
Though Jamie protested, the other men declared that as their landlord his cabin had to be the first one built.
'We can make our mistakes on it,' Bruce declared with a grin.
He was totally changed from the grief-stricken widower who had come to them in Scotland. Now he laughed and joked, was clearly besotted with Jane, and seemed to have forgotten the loss of Malcolm. When something reminded him he merely shrugged and said the lad would come back one day, when he had got the wildness out of his blood.
The women and children sat to one side, in the shade of a huge oak, watching the men work.
'I'm thankful I don't have their job in this weather,' Isabella said, wiping sweat from her brow. 'Sewing's all I'm good for when it's so hot, and even then the needle keeps slipping from my fingers.'
A patch of ground twentyfour by eighteen feet had been cleared, the earth beaten flat. There would be no luxuries such as wooden floors for a while. Then the poles were placed in position, overlapping at the corners and notched to fit over each other, twelve for each wall. Holes for a door and a couple of windows were cut, and a chimney of stones and mud constructed at one end. A door made from roughly hewn planks was fixed in place, and waxed sheets of paper tacked into the window spaces. Ridge poles were put in position, and small branches of fir tied to them for the roof. More smaller branches of fir were packed tight for thatch, lashed down securely, and well before dark the cabin was declared finished apart from the plastering of mud which would be needed to fill up the cracks, but which could be done later.
'Come in, help us to celebrate,' Flora invited, smiling.
Jamie had brought a small barrel of beer with him, and they drank and sang as they finally unloaded his waggon and dragged all the supplies inside. Rugs which Flora had made during their time in Quebec were spread on the earth floor. The only seating was some three-legged stools Jamie had made during the past few evenings, as they'd sat round the camp fire. He used short stumps of tree trunks and more planks to make a table for eating, and another near the fire which could hold their household goods.
'One day, my love, we'll buy the finest furniture from Montreal,' he promised softly as they raised their tankards and toasted the prosperity of their new home.
It felt strange to be sleeping inside again, with no moon or stars to gaze at. Jenny and Matthew had been asleep and dusk had fallen before the rest of the group had dispersed to their own beds in the makeshift shelters outside. Flora moved them carefully to the palliasse they were to share in one corner of the cabin. She drew the blanket over them, and looked down, remembering Rosie, but blessing her good fortune to have two healthy children.
Jamie had placed an upturned crate beside their own bed, and a lamp glowed softly on it. Flora slipped off her gown and shift, and stretched voluptuously. She determined that she would make every effort to bathe on the following morning. There was a secluded pool fed by the stream, which she had used once already. It was cold, but just to sink into the water and feel clean again was an intense pleasure. It seemed to have been months when bathing was a luxury, when conditions made it difficult even to undress in order to sleep.
She was reaching for her nightgown, unused since they had left their lodgings in Quebec, when Jamie came up behind her and slid his hands over her bare skin. She shivered in delight, and twisted round to press herself against him.
'Come to bed,' she whispered.
His hands tightened on her shoulders, then slid down her back. She began to fumble with his clothes, and eased herself away from him as his hands explored her ribs, her stomach, flat once more, and her breasts.
She arched her back, trembling with desire. It had been so long since he'd touched her in this way, but her body was as responsive as ever, and she was quivering with the need of him.
'Flora, I love you so much,' he whispered, and then, to her astonished dismay, he broke away from her and walked across towards the door.
'What is it?' she demanded, dizzy with frustrated passion. 'Where are you going?'
'I must gather wood for the fire,' he said, his voice hard and cold. 'In the excitement I forgot, but you'll need kindling in the morning. Goodnight, my dear. Try to sleep.'
***
It had been hours before he returned and slid into bed beside her. Flora had lain sleepless, but was afraid to let him know she was awake. Why had he treated her in such a fashion? She knew his own desire had been as fierce as her own, yet he had left her. Did he love her as he'd said? Or was it only animal lust he'd felt? Had he suddenly recalled Arabella, really wanted her, and then recalled the unwelcome fact that it was his wife he held naked in his arms, not his first love?
She was heavy-eyed when she rose to cook breakfast. Jamie had gone out earlier, without a word to her, and she had pretended to be asleep. She did not know what to say to him. Before she could start the fire she heard Meg calling from outside.
'Flora, we've made breakfast for everyone. Come and share it with us round the fire.'
She had to behave normally in front of the others. Jamie came to eat as the rest were finishing, and the remainder of the day was so busy, constructing a larger cabin for Bruce and his new, extended family, that there was no need to speak to Jamie. That evening she was in bed and asleep, exhausted, before he came into the cabin. It set the pattern for the next few days, and by the time Gordon's small cabin had been finished, all the settlers were housed, and their communal life was ended.
They'd had spells of separate living, while they had been in the Halifax and Quebec lodgings, but now she would have to become used to having her own home once more. She had longed for it. Now she was afraid. She needed company, the security of the other women, the comfort in knowing she was needed. Did Jamie need her, or was she a constant reminder that but for her he might have married Arabella, been living in England, perhaps, in comfort, even luxury, and amongst people who were civilised, sophisticated, elegant and witty. Instead he had sunk most of his capital purchasing this wild land. He was spending every waking hour clearing a patch of wilderness, enduring primitive conditions, limited companionship, with no guarantee that it would in the end provide them with anything but a bare existence.
There was game in plenty, animals and fish, and berries in the forests which she could preserve. Hamish's wife Mary had been to visit, bringing Eliza, and shown her where edible plants and leaves could be found. They would not starve.
Eliza was full of how they had constructed cabins for her family, with Andrew having one of his own.
'He'll be wanting a woman soon, I hope, to keep it for him,' she said. 'There's a very nice lass living a few miles towards York, I think he's smitten with her. And I've seen my Colin at last.'
Flora hugged her. 'I'm so pleased for you. How is he?'
'He's grown, more than I could have expected, and he looks so smart in his uniform! Ye wouldn't know him if ye met him in the street. He's stationed at York for a while, so I can see him as often as he has time to ride out to us. It's all turned out for the best, hasn't it, lass?'
Flora nodded, but she wasn't sure she agreed. Life was, if anything, harder for her than it had been in the glen. For most of them, though, she reminded herself, it must be better despite the constant anxiety of whether the future would bring them fortune. Here there was hope for a better life. They had enough to eat for the taking, and no fear they would be turned off their land. It was theirs, much more fertile than in Scotland, and in time they would have more comfortable homes, more time for leisure.
Gradually the weather grew colder. Shelters had been built for their few animals, the cow and a couple of goats Brendan had bought, the chickens everyone had, the horses, and a pair of bullocks Bruce had acquired for pulling his plough. Winter would soon be on them, and having experienced one Canadian winter they knew they had to be prepared.
Jamie and Bruce went to York to purchase salt for preserving meat and fish, with crocks to keep it in. They brought back sacks of meal, oats, and cheeses in one waggon, half a dozen indignant pigs and sheep in the other, and two steers tied to the back, lowing plaintively as they were forced to keep walking.
'Why did you bring these?' Flora asked, bewildered. 'we don't have fodder for them.'
'They have plenty of grass for a few weeks. We can slaughter them one by one, for bacon and fresh meat, or for salting down, shared out as small pieces at a time. It's better than bringing meat which would have to be dealt with at once.'
Flora was kept busy, curing the many rabbit skins they had collected, sewing warm clothes for the children and themselves, preserving and storing food for the winter. Jamie had cleared an acre and ploughed it before the first frosts, and it would be ready to sow seeds when spring came. Despite the unremitting labour she grew to love the forest all around, the lake and the busy life on it to watch when she was outside the cabin, and the satisfaction of making as comfortable a home as she could for her family.
The only worry was Jamie's continuing remoteness. He had not again touched her, apart from dutiful kisses night and morning. Would they ever recapture their former love and closeness? Or had she lost him to the memory of Arabella?
***
It was the end of November, and Jamie was busy with the other men chopping wood for their winter fires. Meg, who sometimes confessed to Flora that she felt lonely since her father's marriage, had come to play with the children.
'I'd like to go down to the lake to see whether the fish lines have caught anything,' Flora said. 'Will you look after the children for a few minutes? It's really too cold for them to be outside.'
Much as she loved the children she relished a few moments to herself, a rare occurrence. Wrapped in her shawl, she walked along the shore. It was a bitterly cold day, some snow lay on the ground, and soon she'd need the furs Jamie had bought for her in Quebec.
No fish had taken the bait. Too cold for them, too, she thought. She wondered if they were snug at the bottom of the lake. Then she recalled another line she'd put down along the stream and walked slowly along its banks until she came to the pool where she had often bathed in the summer. No more of that now.
As she approached she heard a groan, and halted abruptly. None of their small community could be there. She knew where they were, the men working in the forest, the women in their cabins, looking after the children.
She gulped nervously. They had met other settlers who had concessions of land along this road, for land close to the lake was popular, snapped up as soon as it was offered for sale. The next farm was owned by a young American couple, the son and daughter of Loyalists families who had moved from Boston after America had declared its independence more than thirty years ago. It couldn't be them. They had left the previous day to visit their parents in Montreal, where they still celebrated the American Thanksgiving festival. So who was it?
Cautiously Flora slipped behind a tree and peered over the rim of the hollow which enclosed her pool. A canoe was pulled half way out of the water, and two men, Indians, one with his hair long and tied back with a leather thong, the other with both sides of his head shaved, leaving a tuft on top, lay on the bank as if exhausted. One was bleeding, blood oozing sluggishly from beneath a rough bandage on his arm, and an open gash on his thigh.
'Don't hide, we in no fit state hurt you,' the other said quietly, and Flora jumped. How could they have known she was there? She had been so quiet.
'Do you need help?' she asked nervously, stepping out from behind the tree trunk. 'Are you both wounded?'
'My brother,' the man who had spoken before said, sitting up slowly. 'I have bruises, few scratches, nothing worse. But he lost much blood, and we have no blankets. Long row across the lake.'
'Can you walk?" Flora said, swiftly making up her mind. 'I have a cabin just a short way away, a little upstream.'
'You not betray us?'
'Why should I?' Flora asked sharply. 'Do you wish to come, find help, and perhaps you need food and shelter?'
'Thank you, Mistress. We brothers. He Tier, I Atonsa Tiakothare.'
'Don't waste your strength talking,' Flora said. 'Can you walk, or shall I fetch men to help?'
Atonsa stood up and shook his head. 'We walk. Only few know we here. For your sake, too,' he added as he bent to help his brother stand.
How they came to be there could wait, Flora decided, as she reached down to catch Tier's hand and help him stagger up the small bank. With one arm over her shoulders, the other across his brother's, he managed to limp towards the cabin. Flora pushed open the door and called out to Meg.
'Meg, it's me. Pull our palliasse near the fire, if you will, and find me some rags and the medicine chest.'
Tier collapsed gratefully onto the mattress, and Meg stared at him and his brother is alarm.
'Flora, what on earth – ?'
'It's all right, Meg. They won't hurt us. They need help. And I suspect they're hungry. Fill two bowls with some of that rabbit stew while I see to the wounds.'
Half an hour later, when dusk was falling, Jamie came home. By then, washed, fed, their wounds tended and salves applied, the Indian brothers were recovered enough to tell their story, but Flora shook her head.
'Let my man eat, and then we can all hear,' she said.
The children had been watching the visitors with interest, but Meg, still fearful, kept them at the far end of the cabin. Now Jenny came to sit on a stool by the table, Meg picked up Matthew and held him on her lap, and they ate their suppers, eyeing the strangers warily over the edges of their bowls. Flora withdrew to give Matthew his last suckle, while Meg undressed Jennie and told her stories until the child fell asleep.
'I ought to go home,' Meg said. 'Are there any more of you hiding in the woods?' she asked Atonsa abruptly.
He shook his head and smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. 'No. My people skilled hiding in woods. They not hurt you. You not fear, we came alone. But if you meet any of my people, not speak, and they leave you alone.'
'Shall I come with you?' Jamie asked, looking doubtfully from her to Flora.
'No, you must stay here with Flora. Don't worry,' Meg said, and went out quickly.
Atonsa grinned wryly. 'We not harm white man,' he said softly. 'Only when they attack us.'
'Is that what's happened? Tell us now.'
Atonsa bowed his head and spoke slowly, as if reciting a frequently told tale. 'There was battle, yes. The white men take our land, hunting grounds south great lakes, pushing us west. We of Shawnee tribe.'
'You had much land?' Jamie asked when he paused.
'We had big hunting grounds. But American white men not content with what they purchased. They want more, White River where we lived. My chief, Tecumseh and his brother, the Prophet Tenskwatawa, made Confederacy of tribes to stop this. We want live in peace with white man.'
'Yes, I heard,' Jamie said quietly.
Tier raised himself slightly from where he'd been lying, and glanced round proudly. 'The Prophet saw many things, visited other times, other worlds of spirits. Name means Open Door. He and chief wanted all our people join together.'
'To resist the Americans?' Flora asked gently.
'To keep our way of life. We keep and use our land, we not drink evil fire-water, no longer marry white women.'
'Last year Tecumseh asked for land to be returned,' Atonsa went on. 'It belongs to all, no one chief can sell it. White man refused. American white man. He came to Canada for advice. Men of Canada help us, they trade, not want destroy us. But he away in south, talking other tribes, when it happened. The Prophet disobeyed him.'
'What could he do when they camped by our village?' Tier demanded, and Atonsa sighed. It was clearly an old argument.
'What happened?' Jamie asked into the silence.
'Chief knew small number of us not prevail. We must be united. But Tenskwatawa impatient. White man's General, William Harrison, attack us.'
'Isn't he the Governor of the Indiana territory?'
Atonsa nodded. 'He camped at Tippecanoe Creek, we attacked him first, but we had few guns, it went wrong, many more of them, they drove us off. Then burned our homes, in Prophet's Town. Many died. We escaped. We rode for Canada, but Tier not ride more, he too weak, so we took canoe through Lake Erie, and came to shore here.'
'You carried the canoe past the Niagara Falls? When Tier was wounded?' Flora asked, astonished. 'How did you manage?'
Atonsa smiled. 'He able to help. Canoe journey helped him a little. But we go no further. We need rest, then I make toboggan and we try find our chiefs. The fight not over yet.'
***