Slewfoot

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Slewfoot Page 2

by Brom


  “Enough,” Edward whispered, and turned, heading back up the slope, looking beaten and tired.

  Abitha glanced back at the dark cave, then followed along.

  * * *

  As they approached the cabin, Abitha spied a white stallion hitched to the porch. Oh no, not this night.

  Edward stopped, and for a minute Abitha thought he might turn and leave. Instead he inhaled deeply and headed in. Abitha followed.

  Wallace, Edward’s older brother, sat with his boots propped atop the table. Both men shared the same wavy hair, dark eyes, and brooding brows, but that was where the similarities ended, as Wallace seemed everything his brother wasn’t—a huge breadth of a man, brash in voice and manner, square of jaw, a gallant-looking fellow by anyone’s account.

  “Edward!” Wallace called through a mouthful of ham.

  Abitha had been preparing the table before heading into the woods, and Wallace had seen fit to help himself to one of the two small slices of ham. Abitha struggled not to shout at the man, that being the very last of their salted meat and there being no telling when they could afford more.

  Wallace looked at the mud on Abitha’s clothes and in her hair. “Dare I ask.”

  “We’ve lost a goat,” Edward said, and added no more.

  “Oh … I see,” Wallace replied, taking another bite of ham. “I am sorry to hear of this.” He held up the chunk of meat. “Hope you do not mind, brother. It is a long ride out here and I’ve not eaten dinner as yet.”

  You know full well we mind, Abitha thought, and looked to her husband, willing him to call the man out. Do not make this easy, Edward. At least tell him it would’ve been courteous to have asked first. For once in your life, do not let him walk all over you.

  “Oh,” Edward said. “Well … yes, it is good to be able to share the Lord’s bounty.”

  “Abitha,” Wallace said. “Fetch me a spot of Edward’s sweet honey mead. Need to clear my throat. I have a bit of news to share.”

  Abitha hesitated, being in no mood to be ordered about by this man, not tonight, not in her own house. But there was more to it; they were almost out of mead. This being the end of winter, they were out of most commodities, and the man before them was a big part of the reason why.

  Wallace waited expectantly. He wiped the grease from his lips onto his sleeve, then looked to Edward. “Something wrong with her?”

  “Abitha,” Edward said. “Some mead.”

  “But, Edward. There’s just the last—”

  “Abitha,” he repeated sternly.

  “Edward. I—”

  “Abitha!” Edward snapped. “Now!”

  Wallace watched the exchange with a bemused grin. “The patience you show this one, brother. You are a lenient man, to be sure. But some say too lenient. Do not mean to tend your house, but a stern hand in the home might save that one a thrashing in the village. That is all.”

  Abitha flushed, turned away, and marched to the cupboard. She knew all too well that Puritan women were to be seen and not heard, to be subservient and respectful to all men at all times. It had been drilled into her since the day she’d arrived, and she sure as hell didn’t need Wallace to tell her once more. She sucked in a deep breath, trying to quell her temper, opened the cupboard, and lifted out a jug of mead. It was their last, and by the weight of it, all but gone. She grabbed a mug, filled it halfway, and sat it down with a thump on the table in front of Wallace.

  “You can certainly tell when this one has her dander up,” Wallace said, and smirked. “Face turns the color of a raspberry.”

  “You say you have news?” Edward asked.

  Wallace’s smirk fell away and he downed the mead in a go. “Edward, here, sit down. Abitha, a cup for Edward.”

  Edward took a seat at the table and Abitha brought him a cup and filled it.

  Wallace tapped his cup. “A bit more.”

  Abitha glanced at Edward. Edward nodded and she poured out the last of the mead, barely enough to fill the bottom of Wallace’s cup.

  Wallace didn’t hide his disappointment.

  “There is no more,” Abitha said tersely. “That is the last of it.”

  Wallace sighed. “Aye, hard times all around.” He paused, searching for the right words. “Edward, it seems we are in a bit of a bind.”

  “Oh?”

  Wallace cleared his throat. “I did my best with the tobacco … everyone knows that. Yes?”

  “Only God can control the weather,” Edward said.

  “Yes,” Wallace continued. “Exactly. I spared naught, as you well know … went to such trouble and expense to bring in the proper plant, the new sweet leaf that showed such promise. I did all things right. But yes, you speak true, I cannot bring the rain. That … only the Lord can do.”

  Oh, is it the weather that is to blame now? Abitha thought, fighting not to scoff. The weather that made you take on tobacco even after you were warned by so many that the plant did not fare well in Sutton soil. But did you heed them? Nay, because you always know better, Wallace. Better than anyone.

  Wallace was quiet a moment, his face pained as though reliving a nightmare. “Anyway, I am not here to go over all that again. The crops failed and the venture did not work out. That is that. What matters now is our family’s circumstance. I took on tobacco for all of us. You and Abitha too. As you know I had hopes to bring you in on it … to expand the operation to your spot out here. To honor Father’s legacy and all he did for us by building a family enterprise.”

  He stared at Edward, his eyes all but demanding agreement.

  Edward nodded.

  “Well, it seems this venture has left us in a pinch.” Wallace paused. “Seems … it seems we have a loan to repay.”

  “A loan? But … I thought you had gone in with Lord Mansfield as partner?”

  “Yes … in a way. But … well … when the cost kept spiraling, he demanded some collateral.”

  “Your farm? Wallace … say you did not!”

  Wallace peered into his empty cup. “No … no, I did not do that. I would never risk our father’s farm.”

  Edward appeared relieved.

  “I put up this place.”

  Edward sat straight up. “This place? You mean my farm? Here?”

  Wallace nodded slowly.

  Abitha steadied herself against the cupboard. “What … what do you mean?”

  Wallace gave her a cutting look. “Mind you to stay out of this, woman.”

  Abitha bit her tongue, knowing too well that women were strictly prohibited from engaging in business affairs, that it was the very law.

  “Wallace,” Edward said. “Please explain this to me. I do not understand.”

  Wallace scowled, his face red. “How much plainer can I make it. I put this homestead up for collateral. I am sorry. I never thought it would come to this.”

  “But … you cannot do that. This is my land.”

  “Brother, it is not that simple, as you well know.”

  “It is. We … we have an agreement. I’ve made all payments on time. There is but the one season left.”

  “I am not saying this is fair. What happened with the tobacco was not fair to any of us. You think I do not feel bad about all of this? What I am saying is I am trying to be as fair as I can. Not just to you, but to all of us.”

  And when did you become so fair-minded, Wallace? Abitha wanted to ask. Was it fair that you should inherit both farms simply for the being the eldest son, then push Edward to buy this one from you … these scraggly acres way out here in the wilds? And for a deal that made us all but paupers. Fifty bushels of corn per season. Fifty! At least twice, mayhap three times their worth. Was that fair?

  “But listen,” Wallace continued. “Hear me out; it is not so bleak as you would think. I have worked out an agreement with Lord Mansfield.”

  “What sort of an agreement?”

  “You can stay on here. You need not leave. Only you will be making your payments to Mansfield instead of me.”

/>   “So, I make my final payment to him?”

  Wallace shook his head sadly. “There is no final payment, little brother. The property belongs to Lord Mansfield now. You work the land, giving him half the yield each year.”

  “Like some tenant farmer,” Abitha said beneath her breath.

  Wallace gave her a scathing glare. “Edward, I pleaded your case … explained the situation. Lord Mansfield is a fair man. He said he is willing to discuss terms for you to eventually own the land.”

  “How long?”

  Wallace shrugged. “Twenty years, mayhap.”

  Twenty years? Abitha thought. Twenty years! Edward, do not let him do this to us.

  Edward said nothing, just stared at the table as though lost.

  “We are lucky to get that. I did my best. I am telling you.”

  Abitha began to shake, found both her hands balled into fists. Edward, can you not see that this man is playing you, that he is always playing you? But she knew no matter how many times she pointed it out, he could not. Edward could rarely read people’s true intentions, leaving him vulnerable, and she had to watch as his brother took full advantage of this, over and over.

  “There must be another way,” Edward said. “Mayhap, if we, the both of us, put up a bit more each season to help you pay this off.”

  “No. I’ve been round this. This is the only way.”

  You must stand up to him, Edward, Abitha thought, taking a step forward. Edward glanced up at her, saw her outrage. Abitha shook her head vehemently at him.

  “Wallace,” Edward said. “I am sorry. But this is your debt. It is not fair to ask this of me. I have put everything into this place. You cannot just give my land away.”

  “Edward, who does this land belong to?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Little brother,” Wallace said in a gentle tone, the way you would talk to a child. “I’ve been doing my best to say this in such a way as to not make you feel small, as we both know you do not always understand the bigger picture. But you are forcing me to be blunt.” Wallace leaned forward. “Who does the land belong to?”

  “Well, it’s not that simple. The land—”

  “It is that simple,” Wallace said sternly. “You are just not able to see it. Now, whose name is on the deed to this property?”

  “Why … that be yours, of course.”

  “Of course. And as such it is my asset and therefore can be, and is, available to pay off my debts. It is that simple.”

  Nay, Abitha thought. None of this is that simple, Wallace Williams. You made a deal for these parcels. And here we are with but the one season to go, and you … you what? You think you can just take it all away? “No!” Abitha blurted out. “Why does it need be Edward’s land? What … what about your land, Wallace?”

  Wallace stood up, appeared ready to slap her. “Why is this woman speaking?”

  “Abitha!” Edward snapped. “Enough. Please. Wallace, I am sorry.”

  “I have had about all I will take from that one.”

  “I will see to her. But this matter. It is upsetting for all of us. And you have to agree it is a fair question.”

  “What is?”

  “Why do you not put up your own acres?”

  “What part of this are you not understanding? These are my own acres.”

  “No, I mean your homestead.”

  “How can you ask that?” Wallace retorted, sounding wounded. “Would you have me give up the very home we were born and raised in? The farm that Papa built with his sweat and blood? And that would make no sense; my acres are worth ten times this place.”

  “Edward built this farm with his sweat and blood,” Abitha said. “It was worth almost naught until he cleared it, brought in topsoil. It is his labors, not this land, that you are paying your debt with. Have you no shame!”

  Edward looked at Abitha, horrified. “Abitha!”

  “I have had enough of this!” Wallace growled. “I have signed this land over to Mansfield. It is done and that is all!”

  “No!” Abitha cried. “It will never stand. You’ve signed a deal with Edward and you will be held to it!” Abitha knew she should stop. “What you have done is sold your own brother into servitude to pay off your debts.”

  “Abi!” Edward cried. “Enough!”

  “Edward, do not let him cow you. Not after all our hard work. He—”

  “Abitha! Not another word!”

  Abitha saw Edward was shaking, that he appeared ready to bolt from the room. She closed her mouth.

  “You have gone too far this time, brat,” Wallace spat, his eyes furious. “Your tongue has earned you a hearing with the ministers. We will see what they think of your outburst.”

  Abitha flinched; she knew this to be no groundless threat. She’d seen several women set out in stocks for speaking their minds, one even lashed for far less than what she’d just done. And Wallace’s threat might hold less weight if this were her first offense, but Abitha was already on probation for not keeping her tongue in check.

  “Wallace,” Edward pleaded. “Please … no. I am appalled by her behavior. Please forgive her. She is high-spirited … is still learning our ways. I—”

  “No.… Enough excuses. She has been warned many times. I will be placing her on charges tomorrow. It is high time she learns her place.” He picked up his hat and started for the door.

  Edward stepped in front of the larger man, held up his hands. “Please, Wallace, do not do this. For me, please.”

  Abitha stood shaking, watching Edward begging to be heard. This is my fault. When will I learn to keep my mouth shut?

  Wallace pushed past.

  “All right … I am willing to work with you on this,” Edward conceded. “The farm. I am.”

  Wallace stopped, gave Edward the look one would give a contrite child. “I am listening.”

  “I just need a little time to get my thoughts in order. That is all. It is a lot all at once. Surely you can understand that?”

  Wallace waited.

  “I…” Edward started, glancing fretfully at Abitha. “I am sure we can come to an agreement. I mean, I know we can. There has to be a way.”

  Wallace smiled. “Now, there is the little brother that I know and cherish. You sometimes forget that Papa left all this to me for a reason. He knew well of your weakness of mind and trusted me to look after you. You must trust me as well. We must not let Papa down.”

  Edward dropped his eyes.

  Wallace let out a sigh. “And, Edward, to be fair, I guess I could have handled this better.” He jabbed a finger at Abitha. “It is just hard to keep one’s temper with that harpy nagging at us.”

  “I will see to her. But let me handle her in my way. Please say naught to the ministers.”

  “But can you handle her, brother? I am beginning to believe otherwise. Do you not see how she takes advantage of your gentle nature, plays you, bends you to her will with that poisonous, nagging tongue of hers? Look at her even now, glaring with such venom. I feel a few days in the stocks and a sound beating would be the best thing for that one.”

  “Nay, I can manage her. Abitha,” Edward said sternly. “You will apologize.… You will beg Wallace’s forgiveness. Now!”

  Abitha gasped. Even knowing Edward was but trying to spare her punishment, it still felt as though he’d slapped her. She didn’t trust herself to speak, so just stood there trembling.

  “Abitha!” Edward all but growled.

  Wallace smirked, and she knew he was hoping she would scream and curse, would throw something at him, anything to give him more leverage over Edward. She dug her nails into her palms as the tears welled up in her eyes. You have to, Abi. You must.

  “It is no good, brother,” Wallace said. “She will never—”

  “I beg your forgiveness, Wallace,” Abitha said, all but spitting the words out. She was shaking now, knew her face must be scarlet. “I should not have spoken so. Please forgive my disrespect.”

  Edw
ard looked to the larger man. “There, see. She is trying.”

  “Her eyes are like knives,” Wallace said. “I do not appreciate the way she is glaring at me.”

  “Abitha,” Edward said. “Cast down your eyes.”

  Abitha continued to glare at Wallace.

  “Abitha!”

  She shifted her glare to Edward, wanting to slap him for treating her so in front of this beast. But when she saw the fear on his face, fear for her, it was then that the tears came, spilling hotly down her cheeks. She lowered her eyes, stared at her feet.

  “Wallace, what more do you want? She is contrite. Please. This night would be a trial for anyone. I have promised to work with you. So, now let us put this behind us.”

  Abitha glanced up, caught the sly grin on Wallace’s face.

  “Perhaps you are right, little brother; there are bigger matters to settle here. We should not allow this one’s ill-bred behavior to come between us. But I promise you this, the next time she butts into our business, she will receive the lash. Am I clear on that?”

  “Yes,” Edward said. “Of course.”

  “Are we clear on that, Abitha?” Wallace asked. It was obvious he was enjoying every second of this. “Do you understand your place? Do you? I need hear it from you so that next time there will be no argument. Do … you … understand … your … place?”

  “I understand,” Abitha said, keeping her head down, forcing the words out between her teeth.

  Wallace smirked; he was positively gloating. Abitha had no doubt he’d gotten everything he wanted from this visit and more.

  “Tomorrow then, little brother,” Wallace said, his tone suddenly light. “After church. We can work out the details and let the ministers know where things stand.” He put on his hat and left the cabin.

  * * *

  “Slow down, Abi,” Edward called.

  Abitha turned to see Edward trailing several yards behind her, all but lost in the morning mist, the sway of his back slowing his gait. She stopped and waited.

  “We cannot be late, Edward. Not this day.”

 

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