I have met with the colonel, he said, and she sensed that there was more, but for a long moment he said nothing. He seemed to be struggling with something very powerful and very disturbing, and she sensed it.
Is something wrong? she asked gently, ready to listen to any problem, but he already knew that.
Perhaps, he said, not sure whether or not to go on. He was not at all sure of her reaction. But he knew he had to say it. His own thoughts had tormented him all morning. I cannot stop thinking about you, Sarah. She nodded and said nothing. I suspect it is very dangerous for me to tell you. But she wasn't sure why he said that.
Why dangerous? she asked gently. He looked so troubled and so worried that it touched her. And she had been just as tormented as he was.
Perhaps you will not let me come here again. I know how much pain you have had in the past ' how much sorrow ' I know how much fear you have of being hurt again ' but I promise you, he looked at her with anguished eyes, I will not hurt you. She knew that too, but she also knew she would not let him. I only want to be your friend. He wanted so much more than that too, but he also knew he could not tell her. Not yet anyway. And he needed to know how she felt first. But she didn't look nearly as frightened as he had feared she would. She seemed to be thinking.
I have thought about you a great deal too, she confessed. Even before you returned this time, she said, blushing, and then she looked up at him with the innocence of a child and smiled at him. I have no one else to talk to.
Is that the only reason why you've thought of me? he asked, with a smile, as he looked into her eyes and sat down carefully beside her. But she could feel the warmth of his body next to hers, see his flesh and feel his buckskins. It was difficult not to be aware of the power of his attraction.
I like speaking to you, she said quietly to him. I like many things, she said shyly, and he took her hand in his own, and once again, for a long time they sat in silence. And then finally, they walked home. He poured a cup of water from the well for her this time, and then he asked her if she would like to take a ride through the valley on his horse, and she smiled at the prospect.
I like to ride sometimes, when I need to clear my mind, he said as he led the paint mare out of the barn, wearing only its bridle. He rarely used a saddle. He preferred riding without one, and he handed her up behind him. She put her arms around his waist, and rode astride, with her wide cotton skirt all around them, as they rode down into the valley, and then across the valley floor for a while. Everything looked so rich and green, and he was right, it seemed to clear her head as they galloped along the river.
They were back by dinnertime, and she cooked dinner for all of them, as she always did. And afterward, he said he was leaving. She did not ask him if he wished to stay. They both knew that he couldn't. Something had changed between them during his visit.
When will you come back again? she asked sadly, as he prepared to leave her.
In a month, perhaps, if I can. And then he looked down at her sternly, and she was reminded of the night she met him in the forest and had been so frightened of him. But he didn't frighten her now, and she could only imagine how much she was going to miss him. And what troubled her most was that she didn't want to be drawn to him in the way she was, and he knew it. But neither of diem seemed able to stop it. Take good care of yourself, he said then. Don't do anything foolish.
What about all that wisdom you say I have? she teased, and he laughed.
You seem to use it for everyone but yourself. Take care of yourself, Sarah, he said more gently then, as he kissed her hand again as he had the night before, and then he mounted his horse, waved, and trotted out of the clearing. She stood looking after him, but he was gone in a matter of minutes.
And it was a month before he returned again, in the early part of September. He had business at the garrison, and he was there for a week, for meetings with Colonel Stockbridge and several other commanders who had come to see him. The meeting, as usual, was about the Shawnees and the Miamis. They seemed to be a constant concern to the army.
Frangois didn't stay at Shelburne this time, but secretly came often to see Sarah, and when he asked the colonel politely how she was, it reminded the senior commandant of the garrison that it had been months since he'd seen her. And he immediately invited her to dinner.
She and Francois feigned surprise when they met, and pretended to have very little interest in each other. But Stockbridge thought he saw something in the Frenchman's eyes, and for only a moment he began to wonder. But he had far more pressing things on his mind, and by the end of the evening, he'd forgotten. They laughed about it afterward, when Fran+oois came to her farm, to share dinner with her again. He stayed in the barn this time, and they had a very pleasant time, enjoying the last of the summer weather. They went to the waterfall, as they always did. And they rode together, on separate horses this time. She was an excellent rider, and balked at nothing, although unlike Fran+oois she preferred riding with a saddle. She was afraid that in her wide skirt, she might slip off the horse if she didn't have one. And they both laughed at the mental picture she created as she described it to him. But no mishap occurred, and they spent several happy days together. Their friendship was becoming an ever stronger bond now, and Fran+oois never dared to cross the line she carefully placed between them.
One day though, as they walked along, on their way back from the waterfall, he asked if she ever feared Edward might come to America to find her. It was a concern he had had for some time, ever since she had told Francois about him.
But she looked unconcerned as she answered. I can't imagine him doing that. I don't tliink he ever liked me that much, to be honest. And it would mean his making a devilishly uncomfortable journey to get here. She knew that only too well from her two months on the Concord.
But perhaps to reclaim his property, and a very valuable piece of property, I might add, Fran+oois said with a small smile at her, he might think it was worth it. He still looked worried, but she didn't.
I doubt it. I think he knows that if I came this far, I would never return to England with him. He would have to bind and gag me, and beat me senseless to get me to leave here, and I think I'd be far too troublesome a prisoner. I'm sure he's doing very well without me. Fran+oois thought it was hard to envision. He couldn't imagine any man letting her get away from him. It was obvious that her husband was extremely odd, as well as a brute. For one very brief, unfriendly moment, he would have liked to meet him. But whatever had happened before, he was glad she was free now.
And when he left her again, he felt troubled as he always did. It was getting to be harder and harder to leave her.
Will I see you again? she asked demurely as he prepared to leave, and she filled his flask with water. It was made of deerskin, and he had carried it for years. It was intricately beaded, Crying Sparrow had made it for him.
No, never, he said in answer to her question. I will never come back to see you, he said, sounding surprisingly firm about it and Sarah looked worried.
Why not? she asked, looking like a disappointed child, and he was pleased to see it. She wondered if he was moving to the Western region.
Because it is too difficult to leave you. And after I've been here, I find everyone else intolerably boring. She laughed at his answer, and she suffered very much from the same problem.
I'm- very glad to hear that, she said, and then he turned with a serious expression to look at her. It made her tremble a little.
Are you? It doesn't worry you? he asked bluntly. He knew how afraid she was of ever getting involved with anyone again and he knew she couldn't marry. But in his mind, there was no reason for her to be alone forever. Her exile was self-imposed, her solitude unnecessary and stupid. But he still knew it was what she wanted. Or at least he thought so. I don't want to frighten you, he said softly. I never want to do that again. She nodded and said nothing. She had no answers for him. And he was troubled as he rode away. He had told her he would be back soon, but he didn't know when
this time. He was traveling north again, and sometimes those trips took longer than he wanted.
But she was troubled this time too. She knew how close they were getting, and there seemed to be a kind of unspoken intimacy between them. They seemed to be able to tell each other anything, and they seemed to find all the same things either interesting or amusing. It was frightening, if she thought of the implications. And more than once she decided that she would tell him not to come again, when he next came to see her. But in the end, he was gone for so long that she was truly worried about him. She did not see him again until October. And when she did, the leaves had turned, and the entire valley looked as though it were on fire, it was all painted in red and yellow. She hadn't seen him in six weeks, and this time she saw him approaching the falls. He came on horseback, and she was standing in the clearing. He was wearing a buckskin shirt with bobcat sleeves, a deerskin mantle, and deerskin leggings with fringes. And he looked incredibly handsome as he galloped into the clearing. His hair was loose, but he wore a headband with eagle feathers hanging from it, and the moment he saw her, he was smiling. He reined in, and slid down gracefully to greet her.
Where have you been? she asked with a look of worry, and he was enormously pleased to see it. Something had told him for weeks that he had frightened her the last time they met, and he was deeply worried about it. He did not want her coming to the wrong conclusion. But he wasn't far wrong. She had tormented herself for the past month. And she had fully intended to tell him she didn't want to see him again, but the moment she saw him, she forgot all her good intentions.
I've been sadly busy, I'm afraid, he said soberly, apologizing for his absence and then he told her the bad news, I can't stay. I'm meeting my men at the garrison and we leave tonight, for Ohio. She looked deeply concerned as he said it.
Blue Jacket again? she asked, as though they were old friends and he smiled at her. He had missed her so much, and he was so happy to see her, even if only for a few minutes.
They began fighting a week ago. Stockbridge has asked me to go out there with a platoon of his men, and a delegation of mine. I'm not sure what we can do, except support the Army. We'll do the best we can, he said calmly, drinking her in with his eyes, but he didn't dare touch her.
It's dangerous for you, she said, looking unhappy, wanting him to stay now, sorry she had ever thought of telling him not to come again. She wondered if he had sensed that, and that was why he hadn't come for such a long time. She was full of regret now, and terror that he would be wounded.
Can you stay for dinner? she asked anxiously, looking nervous and afraid he would tell her he had to leave before that, but he nodded.
I can't stay long though, I need some time to meet with the colonel.
I'll be quick, she said, hurrying toward the kitchen, and half an hour later, she had a very creditable dinner for him. There was some cold chicken left over from the day before, that she had left in the cool house over the river, and she had sent the boys running for it, and she'd cooked some trout they'd caught only that morning. There was fresh, plump squash from the garden, and pumpkins, and a mountain of corn bread. And this time, she asked the boys to eat outside, so she could be alone with Francois. And as he ate the delicious meal she'd prepared for him, he looked over at her with pleasure.
I will not eat this well again for a long time, he said, and she smiled. Looking at him, no one would ever have doubted that she was entertaining an Indian. There was nothing about him to suggest he was actually a white man. But she didn't care what anyone said about her. Let them. You must be very careful now, he warned her. There could be war parties who venture this way from Ohio. It seemed unlikely, but anything was possible, or it might stir some unrest in the other tribes. He didn't want anything to happen to her while he was riding with the Army.
We'll be fine. She had bought the guns, as she had promised. And she felt safe here.
If you hear of anything from the settlers around here, I want you to go to the garrison, and stay there. He spoke to her as though she were his wife, and as though what he wanted her to do really mattered. But it did to her, and she listened to him calmly as he gave her orders. And as they exchanged thoughts and fears and concerns, and she tried to remember everything she'd forgotten while he'd been gone, the time passed much too quickly.
It was dark When he stood beside his horse again, and looked down at her, and without saying a word, he took her in his arms and held her. He just needed to feel her there, and not say anything to her, and she didn't say a word. She simply stood there and held him, wondering why she had been so foolish, why she had wanted to run away from him in the first place. What did it matter if her past life had been filled with pain? What difference did it make if she was still married to Edward? She would never see him again. He was as good as dead to her, and she was falling in love with this wild and beautiful man who looked like an Indian, and now he was going to fight with the Army. What if she never saw him again? How much they would have wasted. And there were tears in her eyes, as she pulled away from him to look up at him. Neither of them spoke, but their eyes said everything they needed.
Be careful, she whispered, and he nodded, as he jumped onto his horse with the ease of any Indian brave, and she wanted to tell him that she loved him, but she didn't, and knew that if anything happened to him, she would always regret it.
He didn't look back this time as he rode away. He couldn't. He didn't want her to see that he was crying.
Chapter 18
IT WAS AN interminable time, waiting for him to return, and by Thanksgiving, Sarah had still heard nothing. She visited the garrison frequently now, hoping to hear news of him. It was a long ride for her, and the round trip took nearly all day, but it was worth it. There were snippets of news from time to time about the battles between the Indians and the armies. The Shawnees and the Miamis had done a great deal of damage, attacking homes and farms, killing families and seizing captives. They had even taken to attacking flatboats on the river. And the Chickasaws had joined them.
Brigadier General Josiah Harmer was in charge, but so far, it had been a disaster. His troops had been ambushed twice, and nearly two hundred men had been killed. But from everything Sarah could glean, by Thanksgiving at least, Fran+oois was not among them. And by the time she sat down to dinner with Colonel Stockbridge and several of the Deerfield families he had invited to join him for Thanksgiving at the garrison, Sarah was deeply worried. But she could let on to no one. And she was very distracted as she attempted to make conversation with everyone, and inquire about their relatives and children.
And when she went back to the farm the next day, she was grateful not to have to talk to anyone. She had taken a Wampanoag guide with her. She didn't even have to deal with Lieutenant Parker anymore. Mercifully, he had been transferred.
She was lost in her own thoughts, as they finally reached Shelburne. She thanked the Indian who had traveled with her, and gave him a saddlebag full of food to take with him. And as she sent him on his way, she pulled her cloak tightly around her in the cold, and heard a rustling in the woods beyond the dealing. For a moment, she looked concerned, and walked as quickly as she could toward her kitchen, where she kept the musket Francis had left with her. But before she could reach the house, he came galloping into the clearing, in full war dress with his hair flying, a headband of eagle feathers flying out behind him. They were a badge of honor given to him by the Iroquois years before, and as she stared at him in astonishment, she realized it was Fran+oois. He wore a victorious smile, and gave a tremendous whoop as he jumped from his horse, and ran to her, and this time there was no hesitation on her part, as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
Oh God ' how I missed you ' she said breathlessly when he finally let her go again. She could no longer remember a single reason for her reservations about him. I was so worried ' so many men were killed '
Too many, he said, still holding her tight, and then he looked at her sadly. It is not over
. The braves are rejoicing now, but the Army will come back again, stronger and more of them. Little Turtle and Blue Jacket will not win this war forever. They've been very foolish. He knew there would be more deaths, more murdered families, more slaves, more destruction, more anger, and the Indians would lose everything in the end. He hated watching it all happen, but he couldn't even think of it now as he held her. You will never know how I missed you, he said, and kissed her again gently.
He swept her up easily in his arms then and carried her inside. It was cold in her kitchen. She had been gone for two days, and the fire had been out, for the boys had gone to a neighboring family for Thanksgiving. They had seven daughters and the boys had been very happy to pay them a visit.
And as soon as Francois set her down, he began making a fire for her, as she set her cloak down. She was wearing the blue velvet gown she had bought in Boston. She had worn it for Thanksgiving. And as he looked at her now he saw that it was the same color as her eyes, and he knew that he had never seen a more beautiful woman, not in Paris or Boston, or Deerfield or even among the Iroquois, not even Crying Sparrow, much as he had loved her. There was only one woman for him now, this slip of a girl who had always been so brave each time he saw her, the woman he had fallen so desperately in love with. He had never expected it to happen to him at his age. He had lived to see nearly forty summers, as the Indians said, and yet he loved her as though his life had just been beginning. He picked her up in his arms again then, and as he kissed her, he could feel her abandon herself to him. She had long since given her heart to him, and her soul along with it. And she had prayed every day for his safe return, and hated herself for not having given herself to him before he left, or at least told him how much she loved him. And she told him again and again now as he carried her to her bedroom. She had never loved any man but him, and as he lay her gently down on her bed and looked at her, she reached her arms up to him, and trembled as he held her. She had never known the gentle touch of any man, and no one had ever been as kind to her as he was. And he was infinitely gentle to her now, as he carefully took off the velvet gown, and placed her like a newborn child beneath the covers. Turning away from her, he let his buckskins fall quickly to the floor, and slipped into the bed beside her.
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