by Angela Couch
“Begging your pardon, but perhaps it would be more appropriate if I called you by your husband’s name.”
14
Rachel stared at him. “My husband?” Did he honestly think her married?
The door opened and Joseph stamped his way in. “Is breakfast ready?”
“I only need to get the plates down.” Rachel rotated to the shelves behind her. “We’ve come up with something to call our patient.” She glanced at her brother as another man entered the house. “Oh...Daniel.”
“Good morning.” He reached for his hat and a stream of water trickled to the floor.
“Set out another plate, Rachel.” Joseph hung his soaked coat on a peg. “I invited Daniel to join us.”
“If that’s all right with you,” Daniel was quick to add.
“Of course. You are always welcome at our table.” Rachel turned her back. She replaced the rack over the fire and started a second batch of batter. Pins and needles prickled her spine from the tension building in the room.
Joseph set the pail of fresh milk on the table and brushed past for a clean container and cheesecloth for straining. “It’s a good a time as any to discuss what needs discussing.”
“Must we? Now?” After the skillet heated, she filled it with batter and laid the bowl aside. Plates and cutlery clattered as she set the table, pausing every few moments to flip or remove the cakes, piling them with the others.
“We are only talking, Rachel.” Joseph poured the milk through the cloth, and then placed the emptied pail on the floor. “Nothing happens today.”
Rachel piled several of the nicest cakes on a plate and spread a generous amount of butter and strawberry preserves over them. She took the plate and a cup of the warm milk, and started toward their guest…Andrew.
Daniel caught her gaze and his eyes narrowed.
“With how well you’re feeding that Redcoat, it’s no wonder he was up to taking off as he did yesterday. That should be ample sign that it’s time.”
Rachel set aside the food long enough to aid Andrew in sitting up by sliding a straw pillow behind the down one.
“Thank you,” he replied.
She placed his breakfast on his stomach and the cup on the edge of a chair before shifting it close enough for him to reach.
“At least you’ve taught him how to be polite,” Daniel said.
The muscles danced under Andrew’s whiskers.
Daniel crossed to the table and jerked out a chair. “Though that’s how the Brits are, aren’t they? Fancy words and pleasing manners. They needed all the taxes from us colonists to pay for that book learning.”
“At least he has book learning.” Rachel hurried back to the fireplace. She tossed several steaming cakes on a plate and shoved it in front of Daniel.
“Now look here, I can read and write as well as the next man. I am not ignorant, and you know it.”
“That may be, Daniel Reid, but—”
“That’s enough, you two.” Joseph slapped his hand against the table. “Sit yourselves down and listen for a change. We will be civil and work this thing out so everyone can agree.”
Daniel sat back with a huff and folded his arms. “Must we do it here with that bloody Redcoat watching us?”
“This concerns him more than any of us. Andrew has the right to be part of this conversation.” Rachel let the plate in her hands clang to the table. She hadn’t meant to use his name—not with Daniel in the room. The odor of scorching cakes again assaulted her nose. She jerked the skillet off the flame, then yelped and dropped it to the floor as pain seared her hand.
“Are you all right?” Joseph started to stand, but she waved him back.
“I’m fine.” Rachel wrapped her hand in the wet cheesecloth and dropped into a chair. She would worry about the mess later. “Let’s talk.”
“Let’s.” The anger in Daniel’s tone faltered, but quickly returned. “It seems things have changed quite a lot in this house. Andrew, is it? And now he has rights? We’re going to discuss everything with him—make sure he agrees with it?”
“You’re right. Things have changed a little.” Joseph took a bite his food. “I agree with Rachel that he be able to participate as we decide what’s best.”
“Fine,” Daniel growled. “Last time I was here everything was decided. As soon as the British pig is not in danger of dropping dead, we turn him over to Colonel Gansevoort. He’s off our hands.”
“We can’t do that,” Rachel said, unable to keep the frustration from her voice.
“Why? Because he’s caught your fancy? The British and their gentlemanly ways always turn the ladies’ heads.”
“You jealous ox!”
“Jealous of what? His fake smile and lying words—like fat King George himself?”
“If both of you would quiet down.” Joseph shook his head. “This has little to do with our personal feelings, but with what is right. As long as we keep this quiet, it’s reasonable to give him a tolerable place to finish recovering.”
“And then?”
Joseph eyed the double prongs of his fork. “I don’t know yet.”
“Perhaps we could give him a musket and enough powder and shot for him finish what he came here to do.” Daniel stood and snatched his hat off the corner of the table. “I think I should go. I haven’t the stomach for dining with Loyalists.”
Andrew’s voice rumbled from the back of the room. “If they are Loyalists, it is a wonder the King continues to reign even in England.” He pushed himself up a little more. “As for me, I was a soldier following his country’s commands.”
“And are you not that same soldier?”
“No.” He winced as he shifted. “I tendered my resignation. The British army believes me to be dead, and as far as I am concerned at this juncture, the person I was has ceased to exist. Even his memories have fled with his life.”
Daniel was momentarily silent before turning to Joseph. “It isn’t safe to have him here. If anyone found out...”
“I wholly agree.” Andrew set his plate aside on the chair, his food hardly prodded. “It is not safe for anyone if I am here. It would be better to turn me over to your army as planned. That way you would be considered heroes and not traitors.”
“How can you say that?” Rachel surged to her feet. “Don’t you understand you’d be a prisoner? They’d lock you up in some cold hole and give you little more than scraps to eat. Your leg’s healing, but it still has a long ways yet, especially after yesterday. Who could guess what would happen if you’re not cared for properly?”
Andrew’s mouth formed a straight line. “At least I would be able to sleep better.”
Daniel found his seat. “For once I’ve heard some common sense come out of a British mouth. It’s the only way, Joseph.”
Her brother shook his head. “I don’t believe that it is. Nobody else knows he’s here and we asked you to keep our secret. It’s not your problem anymore, Daniel. If you could pretend nothing has happened, that he’s not here. For now we’ll let things be, and after he heals...we’ll have to see.” Joseph glanced around the room, meeting each pair of eyes and holding their gazes for several seconds. “Is that acceptable to everyone?”
Daniel pushed up from the table once again. “I guess it will have to be.” He pulled his hat on and exited the cabin. The door slammed.
“Do not assume your generosity goes unappreciated, but he is correct.” Andrew ran his fingers over the whiskers darkening his jaw. “It is not safe for either of you if someone discovers me here. You have been more than patient already—I cannot ask for, or expect, additional favors at your risk. Please reconsider. Give me up to that colonel he spoke of, or at least let me go.”
“How far do you think you would get?” Joseph arched an eyebrow, and chewed down another bite. “Yesterday you didn’t even make it off our property. And where would you go? Not many Americans in this area are willing to help British spies. Even wounded ones. Most Tories have resettled up north, and your army
is probably back to Lake Ontario by now—almost a hundred miles.”
“Then give me up.”
“I’m afraid that is also out of the question. But I’ll tell you what we should do.” Joseph ate his last forkful and downed it with milk. “You lay there and finish eating, I’ll go spread the wheat to dry, and Rachel can do whatever it is she has planned to do next.” He pulled on the light buckskin coat and moved out into the rain.
“I agree with Joseph,” Rachel said as she put her hand into the basin of cold water. Though not burnt badly, it stung.
“That hardly makes it safe.”
“Safer for you than any other idea so far.”
“I am not so concerned with my own welfare at the moment.” He sounded almost as upset as Daniel.
Rachel cleared the table. Joseph was the only one who had emptied his plate. She hadn’t even fixed one for herself, but her stomach clenched too tight to try eating anything now. “Everyone has begun harvest and will be busy until winter. Once the snows come, neighbors visit less. There’s nothing to be concerned about until spring, and by then you’ll be gone. No one will ever know you were here.”
Andrew shook his head. “And what of the man who just left? Daniel. A fine, Old Testament name. He seem none too pleased. Is there any danger from him?”
“He’d never do anything to risk our safety, even if he doesn’t like the arrangements.” She sighed as she walked to the fireplace. Oh, Daniel. Now that she thought about it, he’d shown jealousy toward Jarrett, also. “I don’t know if he’s more upset because you’re British or because you’re a man.”
A puzzled expression shadowed Andrew’s eyes. “Forgive me, but I am most truly confused. Why would this man, Daniel, be jealous of me if...” He paused, his brow furrowed like a newly planted field. “What of your husband?”
Rachel froze, half-crouched, the blackened cakes still on the floor at her feet. “My husband?”
“Yes, Joseph...your husband.”
She stared at him. “My husband?” She bit her lips together to hinder the laugh rising. Even her hand cupped over her mouth could not stop the laughter from bubbling up. She straightened. “I forgot I’d let you believe that. But Joseph’s my brother. I’m unmarried.”
~*~
“Your brother?” He hadn’t even considered that relationship, but it made perfect sense. The friendly aloofness with no sign of deeper affection. It wasn’t a marriage of necessity after all—it wasn’t even a marriage. Siblings. “That definitely clarifies a few things. To be honest I was beginning to wonder about you colonists. Seeing you go into the same bedroom...I hadn’t—”
“This isn’t England, or even Boston. Out here whole families often share one room simply because there is only one room. When my family first settled here, Joseph and Pa built a room in the loft of the barn so he’d have a space of his own, but since we brought you here, he didn’t feel right about leaving me alone in the house. It wouldn’t have been proper.”
Proper? Andrew cringed at the word. A young, unattached woman had been dressing him, tending his wound, and even disposing of his waste. How could that be considered proper? Heat singed his face, no doubt turning it a ghastly shade of scarlet. One thing for certain—she wasn’t coming anywhere near him again. At least, not in the capacity of his nurse.
15
Andrew’s heart thudded as Rachel stepped from the bedroom.
Her lips pursed with the hint of a smile as her dark eyes fell on him.
Their gazes met.
“What do you want help with today, Joseph?” She turned to her brother and moved to the table. As she walked, Rachel pulled loose tresses over her shoulder, running a brush through them, but with little effect on the ripples. Probably the result of always wearing her hair in a braid. What a pity she didn’t leave it as a silky shawl over her shoulders as it lay now.
“I need to turn the wheat so it can finish drying,” Joseph said from where he crouched at the fireplace. “I could use your help with that later.” He fed the flames with logs he’d just brought in.
Hopefully, they would put out the fire as soon as breakfast was prepared. It already felt much too warm in the confines of the cabin. Or was Andrew the only one overheated? Perhaps. But the humidity, no one could ignore. To some extent it was likely responsible for the fullness of Rachel’s honey waves.
And she was unmarried. Unattached. Unspoken for. Only her youth could be responsible for that. It would not be long before a man came along with the remedy. A man like Mr. Daniel Reid.
Andrew relaxed into the pillow and crossed his arms.
Rachel set the brush aside and took the large skillet from its hook, trading place with Joseph. “How do eggs sound to everyone?”
Her brother murmured a “good” as he took up the milk pail and moved out the door.
Andrew managed a nod, though unsure he could swallow anything. Strange how one day ago he had been completely fine with her married status, and now the thought of another man making advances to her proved enough to sour his stomach.
“I’ll put on the kettle, as well.” Rachel cracked one egg after another against the edge of the pan and dropped them in. She deposited the shells into a small pail at her feet. “I should change your bandage this morning.”
Andrew shifted on the cot, his body stiffening. How would he explain himself to her without causing offense?
~*~
Rachel blew out her breath. This was ridiculous. “That bandage has been on for over a day. We need a new one before your wound festers again.”
Andrew shook his head. “Maybe so, but you shall not be the one to freshen it.”
Hot water caught the hem of her dress as she dropped the basin to the floor beside the cot. She jumped back, giving her skirt a shake to release her frustration. “I have been the one dressing your wounds since that first night. You didn’t put up this much of a fuss the other times. Why now?” She folded her arms and tipped her head.
He looked straight up, but the hardness in his expression wavered. “Circumstances have changed.”
“Nothing has changed in the last day. Unless you mean it’s different now you know we hope for your recovery. But how does that affect these circumstances?”
“It is not that.” His gaze darted to her, and then away. “There are certain situations that should be avoided if at all possible. Propriety and morality dictate what is appropriate, and though I recognize in the past there were necessary allowances and—”
“I still have no idea what you are talking about.” Rachel gathered the cloths she’d set on the table. “So let me clean your wound before it festers again.”
“But it is not proper.”
She whirled, bringing her hand to her hip. “Why? Why was it acceptable a day ago, but not now?”
“Because you are unmarried.” Andrew shifted, color curling over his ears and across his face.
Rachel stifled a laugh at his embarrassment, and then her own cheeks heated. She set her hands on the table. He was too correct. It had been different before, an aloofness of patient and nurse. Distance between them that was swiftly crumbling. “What do you propose we do then? That bandage still needs to be changed.”
Silence. It was hardly fair for him to create a dilemma and not supply a cure.
“We can’t wait for Joseph.” She grabbed the cloths and returned without looking at him. “So either you come up with a plan, or we continue the way we have to this point, and you simply ignore the fact I’m a woman.”
His usual baritone deepened to a rumbling base. “Indeed, that would prove very difficult.”
Rachel dropped one of the cloths into the basin and laid the others over his covered legs. Acknowledging his meaning would hardly move them in the right direction. “Difficult to come up with a plan?”
“A plan, I already have.”
She met his gaze—drawn into his eyes and everything that lay hidden within his soul. Goodness. Gentleness. And something more...
�
��The fact that you are a woman, however, I shall never be able to put from my mind.”
For an endless moment Rachel couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. A strange sensation spread through her. She tried to swallow.
“I must apologize.” His voice stroked her ears. “I have made you uncomfortable. That was not my intention.”
She stepped back. “No, it wasn’t that.” Rachel forced a smile, but avoided his eyes. “What is your proposal—your plan, I mean?”
He cleared his throat. “Bring a chair over, and place the basin and everything where I can reach it. I shall do it myself.”
“Are you sure you’d be able to? You may find it quite painful to wash it well, and you would have to sit up enough to see clearly what you are doing.”
“I shall manage.”
Rachel dragged two chairs over. She refilled the basin and set it on one chair for cleaning the wound, and across the other she laid the fresh bandaging with a thick layer of salve already applied. “Make sure you set the salve directly over the open area, and please, if it is at all hot or festered, let me know so we can try a warm bread-and-milk poultice again.”
He answered with a nod.
“I’ll check back in a little while.”
Rachel took a deep breath as she closed the door. Nice, fresh air was what she needed. Now, to get some work done.
Joseph could probably use help starting on the wheat, but as she stepped into the barn her gaze wandered to where the ax hung. She grabbed it and moved toward the stump in the garden. The tilled earth was still mud, but not as soppy as it had been the day before. Even so, it clung to her boots, weighing them down. Rachel sank the ax into the top of the stump and then used the spade to clean her soles.
As she again changed tools, she eyed the six-inch root she’d already cleared dirt from. Tears stung her eyes. Blinking them back, she swung the thick blade downwards. More welled in their place and spilled over. Moisture streaked her face.
Her father had been able to make short work with even roots this large. He and Joseph had cleared hundreds of trees the first two years in the valley. And he’d always removed the stumps. It was a matter of pride with him. He wouldn’t have his land marred with half rotted remains, waiting for nature to take its course as some farmers did.