The Endless Forest

by Sara Donati

  They stopped in front of her. As Nathan was the oldest when Birdie was absent—and where was Birdie, Hannah wondered—he took one step forward and cleared his throat to recite a speech.

  “Auntie Hannah,” he began. “We heard that Jemima is back.”

  “That much is true,” Hannah said.

  “And we heard she’s here to fetch Nicholas and take him away, and there’s nothing anybody can do about it. He has to go whether he wants to or not. And Lorena can’t go with him because she married Levi, and Nicholas doesn’t want to go. He wants to stay here with Lorena. And us.”

  Hannah said, “Who told you all this?”

  “Lots of people,” said Mariah.

  “Maggie and Kate LeBlanc,” said Adam.

  “Jonah Ratz,” added Nathan.

  “Cam Cunningham.”

  “Georgia Blackhouse.”

  Hannah held up a hand to stop them. “So, everybody is saying these things.”

  Heads nodded. At least the news about Jemima’s health had not begun to circulate.

  She said, “What have I told you about rumors?”

  Isabel leapt in the air, waving madly. “Rumor grows as it goes!”

  John had come up beside her and now he leaned into her leg and rubbed his face against her hip. Hannah cradled his head and wished that she could still pick him up, but at five he was more than half her height. All the boys were big-boned and tall for their ages, and she mourned those days when she could carry them easily. It was to her the essence of motherhood, and it was why when she thought of Nicholas, she thought of Lorena. She had held him and rocked him and sung to him; she was, in Hannah’s mind, his mother.

  Nicholas spoke for the first time. “Do you mean my ma ain’t here?”

  “She’s here,” Hannah said. “But there’s no talk of taking you anywhere.”

  He made a thoughtful face. “Does Lorena know?”

  “I’m not sure. Will you come with me now so you can see your ma?”

  The boy blinked at her as if he were on the edge of sleep. He let out a great sigh, came forward, and took her by the hand.

  “What about us?” Amelie said. “Can we come too?”

  “No,” said Henry gently. “Let Ma take him on her own.”

  “You can all stay right here and watch the dancing,” Hannah said. “I believe we should be back in time for the fireworks. Henry?”

  “I’ve got hold of her, Ma,” said her oldest. He took his littlest sister by the hand and then turned toward the dancing.

  On the way to the Red Dog Hannah told Nicholas that his mother was ill, and then answered his questions, which would have been amusing, if not for the seriousness of the situation. As plainly as she could, she explained, and still she wasn’t sure he understood; the words didn’t make a picture for him. Jemima herself would have to do that.

  She said, “If your ma seems crabby, it’s because she’s feeling so poorly,” Hannah said.

  “Ma is never mean to me,” Nicholas said with great seriousness. “No matter how mad she is at other people. Once she threw a vase at Mr. Focht she was so mad at him, but when she saw me she smiled. Ma gets mad easy, but not at me. Maybe when I’m older.”

  Before Hannah could think how to respond to this speech, he was off again.

  “Ma says if she doesn’t fight for what’s hers and mine, nobody will. She seems mad when she talks like that, but mostly I think she’s scared. Did you know my ma used to sing in a theater? There was music and costumes and she sang. She told me some of the stories. Someday maybe I can go to the theater and watch.”

  Then they were at the Red Dog and Luke was coming toward them with a focused look that told her what he had to say before he ever opened his mouth. Elizabeth was right behind him, and Da. The sight of those three faces worked like a balm.

  Nicholas dropped her hand and went straight to Luke who put a hand on the boy’s head and smiled down at him briefly.

  Hannah said, “Jennet?”

  He nodded. “Curiosity’s at Downhill House with her. Alone.”

  “I’m on my way already,” Elizabeth said. “You needn’t rush if you have something to do—” She smiled at Nicholas, and he smiled back at her, though it was for him a quiet smile.

  “I have this call to make,” Hannah said, meeting her father’s eye. “And then I said I’d stop by the fireworks so I can fetch the little people home.”

  Nicholas looked up at her hopefully.

  “Now see,” Hannah’s father said. “There’s an idea that’s got his attention. Do you want to come up the hill after the fireworks?”

  Nicholas hesitated. “Will my sisters be there?”

  The breath caught in Hannah’s throat. “I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

  “Because of Ma,” said the boy. “Because Ma will want to see them.”

  “One thing at a time,” Luke said.

  It was the kind of thing adults said to children. She said such things to her own, when she wanted to reassure them without making promises. And Nicholas accepted it just as her children did, with a blind faith that was touching, and frightening too.

  At the foot of the stair Hannah stopped and turned Nicholas toward her. In the light of a brace of tallow candles his expression seem to jump and shift, all nerves.

  She said, “You understand how to act in a sickroom? No loud talking or jumping. Try not to excite her.”

  The boy’s eyes widened. “You mean I can’t tell her about Harper?”

  “She’s already heard about Harper,” Hannah said. “Do you understand me, Nicholas? Your ma is very ill.”

  Nicholas glanced up and then jolted so violently that Hannah herself jumped, even before she saw that Birdie was standing at the top of the stairs. She closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them again Birdie was standing right in front of them.

  “Little girl,” Hannah said, struggling to contain her tone. “What have you been up to now?”

  Birdie straightened her shoulders as if she were going into battle, but before she could answer Nicholas jumped in.

  “Will you come with me now to see my ma? Please?”

  It was the first clear sign that he was worried and agitated, and the only thing that could convince Hannah that Birdie should join them. She pointed up the stair with a movement of her head.

  Birdie started to say something and Hannah shot her a look that made her fall silent.

  “My ma’s sick,” Nicholas said to Birdie just as Hannah knocked at the door.

  “Leave me alone!”

  “It’s me,” Hannah said. “And I’ve brought Nicholas to see you.”

  They moved into the room, all three of them in a row. Birdie came last, and she came reluctantly. If Nicholas hadn’t had her by the hand, she would have bolted.

  Jemima said, “Oh, look, you’ve grown since I’ve been gone.”

  “Ma,” Nicholas said, walking right up to her bedside and leaning in to look her in the eye. “Ma, is it true you wanted to take the orchard away from my sister Callie? They said you did but I said that couldn’t be true. I said you wouldn’t be so mean, and they said—” His voice trailed away.

  The look Jemima sent Hannah was pure poison. “Have the Bonners been telling you these lies?”

  He looked confused for a moment, and then shook his head. “I heard them right here,” he said. “Downstairs in the common room. Callie doesn’t even own the orchard anymore, she sold it to Levi, did you know that? Are you going to try to take it away from Levi? I don’t understand why you’d want an orchard, that’s why I told them it wasn’t true.”

  Jemima took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She said, “Once I thought the orchard was rightfully yours, and that you should have it. Property passes from father to son; do you remember us talking about that?”

  “Oh,” Nicholas said, bright color coming into his cheeks. “But I don’t want the orchard, Ma. I like helping there, but I wouldn’t know how to take care of it. I’m just a boy.”

/>   Jemima was trying to control her urges, Hannah could see that. “Birdie and I could leave,” she said to mother and son. “We could wait in the hall.”

  “Yes,” Jemima said.

  “No,” Nicholas said. “Please let them stay, Ma, so if I forget what you said exactly they can remind me. Are you angry with me if I don’t want the orchard?”

  Jemima forced a smile. “I’m not angry with you.”

  His color climbed another notch, in pleasure or relief or both.

  “You look awful sick, Ma.”

  “I am sick, but I feel better just now. Will you come to see me every day? I’m going to be at your sister Martha’s house—”

  “No,” Hannah said. “No, I wasn’t able to arrange that. Nicholas, you’ll be able to visit your ma right here. She’s only a few minutes away.”

  Jemima went still, all expression wiped from her face. “Son,” she said. “Take Birdie and wait in the hall while I talk with Hannah, would you?”

  In the hall, Birdie’s legs were so shaky that she sat right down on the floor. She had thought maybe no one would ever know that she had come to talk to Jemima, and then to run into Hannah three steps out the door—that was bad luck. If she had had some good news to bring home, she wouldn’t have minded, but she didn’t. All she had done was to convince herself once and for all that Jemima wasn’t interested in making things better.

  And now Nicholas sat beside her, very quiet and still. She wondered if Hannah had said how sick his ma was, and decided she had not. It was not the kind of thing she’d tell in passing. It might be that Nicholas had reasoned some things out for himself, as he did now and then. Birdie tried to imagine how she would feel if her ma were as sick as Nicholas’s, and a hot fear gripped her.

  They could hear voices seesawing back and forth, but the words weren’t clear.

  Nicholas said, “What do we do if Ma starts to throw things at Hannah?”

  “Hannah has been to war,” Birdie told him. “Hannah has been in the middle of battles, taking care of wounded men. It’s hard to get the best of Hannah.” She wished she felt as sure as she sounded. She wished Hannah would come out so they could go home. She wanted to be somewhere else, and not in this hall with its bright white curtains at the window and the polished rail. She didn’t want to be here when Hannah sat down with Nicholas and told him about how sick his ma really was.

  And still it seemed like a very long time before Hannah came. To Birdie it seemed too as if Hannah had simply forgot they were waiting, because when she saw them she started.

  “I’ll bring you back tomorrow to see your ma,” she told Nicholas. “Right now she is very tired and needs to sleep.”

  Nicholas looked uncertainly between the door and Hannah, and then he nodded. “Can I go home with you and Birdie?”

  Hannah closed her eyes briefly. Birdie had never seen her so tired, and she still had to go help Jennet have her baby.

  She said, “I think Callie would be very worried if you didn’t come home first. Shall we go ask her? We can talk along the way.”

  Birdie felt the sudden sting of tears in her eyes. To her sister she said, “I think the fireworks are done, so I’ll go fetch the little people and start home with them.”

  Hannah touched her cheek. “Thank you,” she said softly. As if Birdie would want to be there when she told Nicholas that his ma was dying, and she was sacrificing something by leaving them.

  Just at this moment Birdie couldn’t remember why it had seemed so important to talk to Jemima. She wished she never had.

  64

  Daniel meant to go straight home to Martha; that had been his firm intention. And yet he found himself in the dark schoolhouse while outside the dancing and drinking and hollering rolled along like a rock down a hillside.

  Blue-Jay and Ethan were crouched opposite him. It was the natural way for the three of them to talk. As boys they had handled every challenge and cooked up every scheme just like this. How to remove a pan of maple sugar from under Many-Doves’s watchful eye, where they might get nails for an addition to their fort, how they would fit chores around the smelt run, how to remind the Ratz boys that they had best keep clear of sisters, how many pups Blue was going to have and who had a claim to one.

  They had been clever, almost as clever as they believed themselves to be. A few times they managed to get away with something small, though now, looking back, Daniel understood they had not got away with much at all. Parents had chosen their battles carefully, as was necessary with three boys as they had been. Full of ideas and energy, a combination that sometimes ended in high spirits, and sometimes in days of extra chores.

  Now they were men. All three of them married, a thing Daniel had doubted would ever happen. He had doubted it for himself, and for Ethan. Both of them so cautious about the idea that it might have been avoided indefinitely. If not for Jemima Southern and the threat she posed, he wondered how long it would have taken for him to get down to business with Martha. Put aside his doubts and worries and ask her straight out if she wanted to be married to a one-armed schoolteacher.

  He had thought Blue-Jay lucky, back when they were young and before the war. It was the Mohawk way for women to handle such things. A girl’s mother talked to a boy’s mother, and if the boy liked the idea, the girl had the final decision. It had worked that way with Terese; Blue-Jay had married her because he liked what he knew of her and she had wanted him. The trouble that followed was a lesson to all three of them, though Blue-Jay bore the brunt and then learned from that. The day after he first talked to Susanna Mayfair at Meeting, he had crouched down like this with Daniel and Ethan and made a plan, how he was going to pursue her and what he wanted out of that.

  Now that Daniel had gone through it himself he understood better what he had only sensed before. It could go wrong no matter how you approached it, and if you wanted it to go right, it took a lot of work.

  For Daniel and Ethan things had moved too fast, and they had never had the chance to talk like this. In fact, they hadn’t talked for a long time, since before the flood. Daniel realized how much he had missed these discussions.

  Ethan was saying, “We have to do something.”

  “She’ll be dead in a week,” Blue-Jay said.

  “The damage she could do in a week is substantial,” Ethan said.

  Daniel wondered exactly what kind of damage Ethan was worried about, but he kept that question to himself.

  Blue-Jay studied the floor. “Are you saying we should put a bullet in her?”

  Ethan was as angry as Daniel had ever seen him. It might have to do solely with Callie and Nicholas, but then Ethan had his own history with Jemima.

  He gave a quick shake of the head: not that. Not yet.

  “We could take her up to Lake in the Clouds,” Blue-Jay said. “She’d be out of troublemaking range, and Susanna would nurse her.”

  Daniel said, “That would stretch even Susanna’s goodwill to the breaking point.”

  “For you and me, sure. But Jemima has no power over Susanna.”

  “Jemima will fight the idea,” Ethan said, but his tone was hopeful.

  “We’ll tell her we’re taking her to Daniel’s,” Blue-Jay said. “And then we’ll just keep on going. She can holler her head off. It won’t matter.”

  Within a quarter hour they had sorted out the details: Blue-Jay would head home now so that Susanna had time to make a chamber ready, and Daniel would go home to Martha to put her mind to rest about Nicholas. When the village was quiet, Ethan would bring Jemima up the mountain to Lake in the Clouds.

  “You think you can handle her on your own?” Daniel asked Ethan.

  “I’ll ask your da to help me,” he said. “And Bears and maybe Gabriel. To keep me from putting that bullet in her head.”

  “Well, sure,” Daniel said. “Just the men to take along if you want somebody to preach non-violence.”

  Any other time it would have made Ethan smile, but he seemed not to hear at all. That silence
caught Blue-Jay’s attention, and he lifted a brow in Daniel’s direction.

  “Ethan,” Daniel said. “Is there something more going on here that we don’t know about? That we should know about?”

  “No,” Ethan said. “Not a thing you should know about.”

  Daniel had the sense that he had asked the wrong question. It followed him all the way home, while Hopper snored in his saddlebag.

  65

  Charlie LeBlanc came to bed late, as he usually did, but he also came to bed sober, which was unusual. Especially on a holiday like this one, where ale ran so free. The oddness of it woke Becca, and she sat up.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Nathaniel and Ethan came by, and they had Callie with them.”

  “Was there news about Jennet?”

  “She’s still at it,” Charlie yawned. “They were here to take Jemima away.”

  “What?”

  He turned to look at her over his shoulder, the candlelight casting the planes of his face into stark relief.

  “They told me she was likely to make a fuss, and I should stand by so she couldn’t say they handled her rough. Ethan settled her bill.”

  “Did she make a fuss?”

  Charlie shook his head. “It was right odd, Becca. Nathaniel was helping her down the stairs and when she passed me she smiled and she said sweet as pie, ‘If you find my body at the bottom of a cliff, this time you’ll know who’s responsible.’”

  Becca drew in a sharp breath.

  Charlie said, “I told her not to talk like that.”

  “I’m sure she took it to heart,” Becca said dryly. “How did Callie react when she said that?”

  “You know Callie’s temper. She lashed right out and said, ‘Old woman, if I wanted to kill you I wouldn’t go to the trouble of dragging you up Hidden Wolf first.’”