"Might."
"I have something to propose. If you give me a gun and teach me how to shoot, I'll help you finish your cabin and do some cooking for you."
He looked at her and took a bite of cheese. "Maybe."
"I make a very good steak-and-kidney pie," she urged.
"Not a bad Sally Lunn either," he agreed, taking another bite. He tilted his head back, looked at her out of his good eye and said, "Consider it done."
"Good! I'll be back tomorrow at the same time," and she hopped up, shaking his hand. "Good day, Mr. Tinker."
"Call me Moses, Ma'am," he shouted after her, as she waved good-bye.
Over the next several months, Darcy would complete her chores at the fort as quickly as possible and race down to help Moses with the cabin and barn every day. He would spend the morning getting the logs notched, and when she arrived in the afternoon, they would work on the upper half of the cabin.
Darcy would climb to the top of the cabin and steady the log while Moses would pull up the other end, resting it in the notch of the log underneath it. This process would be repeated until the cabin was the desired height after that, they would start the roof.
Their routine was basically the same every day. They would work on the cabin all afternoon and well into the evening, break for an evening meal, and then Moses would work with Darcy on her target practice until dusk.
Darcy was becoming a fair shot, and Moses was impressed with her keen eye. The biggest challenge was keeping the musket steady. It was a heavy firearm, and after lifting logs all afternoon, it was hard to hold the gun upright, but once her strength improved so did her prowess. Darcy liked target practice, and it gave her peace of mind knowing that she could defend herself if necessary.
"I'm done washing up the bowls. I'll be going back now," Darcy called to Moses.
He was busy mortaring a row of glass bottles into the cabin wall, substituting them for windows. They would let much-needed light into the cabin and were a less-expensive alternative to glass, which was unheard of on the frontier.
He did not look up from his work and simply raised his hand as good-bye. The two had grown comfortable with one another, and Darcy began to look upon Moses as a sort of father. The old man's lifestyle had never been conducive to a home and children, so the friendship with Darcy provided him with a chance to have a daughter; an opportunity which he thought was lost forever.
Darcy whistled for Shenanigan, picked up her musket and began loading it. It was a time-consuming activity, and Darcy knew that she would not have time to load before an attack, so she completed the task now.
She measured a charge from her powder horn, funneling it with her hands into the muzzle of the gun. Next, she placed a patch with a bullet on it over the muzzle and shoved them both down into the bore with a ramrod. She primed the lock, closed the pan and was ready to go.
This procedure she had practiced repeatedly until it took her less than one minute to load, and even then Darcy was not satisfied. She did not want the stress of an attack to ever confuse her memory.
The sun was sinking low as Darcy and Shenanigan made their way back to the fort. As they passed the stream, Shenanigan suddenly stopped in his tracks, growing stiff-legged listening to something. Every fiber of Darcy's being went on alert, and her heart raced.
She looked into the silent woods and listened too. Her ears picked up a low moaning sound as if someone was hurt. Was this a trick or was someone in need? She could not live with herself if she left someone alone to die in the forest, so she started down the path which ran along the banks of the stream.
Like lightning, Shenanigan shot past her to be the first to encounter danger. Her musket slung over her shoulder, Darcy ran behind the dog. As she came around a huge oak, she found Shenanigan standing cautiously in front of a little girl.
The child was sitting on the ground oblivious to both of them. She rocked back and forth, shaking her hands and moaning. Darcy looked around for a parent, but the girl seemed to be alone. She was a white child who looked to be about six or seven years of age, and Darcy asked gently, "Are you hurt?"
She reached out and put her hand on the girl's shoulder, and the child recoiled from her.
"Are you all right? Where is your Mother?"
She never looked at Darcy and there was still no response. Darcy recalled several of the residents of Kilkerry who had emerged from the famine with feeble minds due to poor nutrition or difficult births, and she wondered if this little girl was afflicted with a similar problem. Judging by her clean dress and well-combed hair, someone cared for her. Shenanigan concluded that the little girl was not a threat, so he began to sniff her hair and face. Instantly the child giggled and reached out to touch him. Shenanigan jumped back, and the child stood up, laughing and reaching out to stroke his coat. He looked at Darcy, confused.
She saw her opportunity to lure the child to a place of safety, so she whistled for Shenanigan to follow her. The nearest home was that of Adrianna McDermott, and Darcy set off in that direction. She must move quickly; night was falling fast.
The child followed Shenanigan into the clearing of the McDermott homestead. A boy of about twelve years of age was the first to spot them walking down the hill toward the log cabin. He started yelling for his mother to come quickly.
Instantly children of all shapes and sizes emerged from the woods and ran up to the little girl, hugging her and showering her with kisses. Adrianna burst out of the brush too and ran across the clearing scooping the child into her arms, kissing her and crying.
"Oh Nan, where have you been?"
Even with all this attention, Nan's expression did not change.
"How can I ever thank you, Miss McBride. You have brought my baby back to me," said Adrianna, her eyes full of tears. "It was so close to nightfall, I would have lost my mind wondering if she was alive."
"I was returning from Moses Tinker's cabin, and I heard her moaning. She was sitting by the stream, rocking back and forth. I couldn't get her to move, but she liked the dog and was willing to follow him," explained Darcy.
"Ma, maybe we should get a dog for Nan! He could lead her back home if she was lost," said one of the boys.
Adrianna nodded her head and said, "This has happened before. Next time we may not be so lucky. Thank you. Please come in and break bread with us tonight."
"I dare not, Mrs. McDermott. The sun is too low. I must head back to the fort right away."
"Well, then please come and have supper with us on any night you choose. You will always be welcome in our home."
Feeling self-conscious, Darcy shrugged and said, "I am glad to bring you good news at last.”
Adrianna and the children watched Darcy as she disappeared into the dark woods with Shenanigan. Adrianna thought she was a curious woman. No female in her right mind would venture out into the woods at night, and she couldn't understand what she saw in that crazy old scout. But more than anything, Adrianna could not understand how Darcy could be the mistress of a British officer. There were even rumors that she had been educated by a Catholic priest. The woman's beauty was apparent, but her lifestyle was mysterious. She was just the sort of person Adrianna would like to get to know.
* * *
The following morning Darcy stretched lazily, enjoying having the bed to herself. Nathan had dressed and gone out to his office early.
He received word that Governor Shirley wanted another fort erected, this time on the Kensington River to the north. Nathan was expecting some men to help him make plans for the site and do a survey for the construction.
Darcy dressed and pinned up her hair. She stepped to the mirror and examined herself. She was dressed in a curious blend of feminine apparel and frontier accessories. Over her soft gown, she had a brown leather belt, buckled around her waist to be used for hiking up her skirts in the event that she must run, and across her chest was a strap for her shot pouch and powder horn. A musket over her shoulder finished off the odd ensemble. She shook her he
ad chuckling. She wondered what Nathan saw in her.
Darcy continued to find Nathan attractive, but lately she felt dissatisfied. More and more she longed for intimacy of the heart, something which Nathan could never provide and Darcy did not want from him. She knew she could never love him, but the question nagged her; was she capable of loving anyone?
Shaking off the feeling of loneliness, she grabbed her musket and set off for Moses' cabin. She was granted a brief escape from her duties at the fort today to help him put the roof on his barn. The day was hot, and the sun drenched them in perspiration as they toiled on the roof. Relief came at last when the sun dropped below the horizon at the end of the day. Their work completed, Darcy climbed down to prepare a fire outside since it was too hot to cook in the cabin.
Moses sat on a stump, wiping his face with a rag. He declared, "I've got to make some chairs. At the end of a hard day, a man wants to sit on a chair, not a stump."
“It will all get done in good time," reassured Darcy. "Why, look at how far we have come today."
The cabin was done. He needed a few household articles, but the structure was complete at last. Moses was in the process of erecting a rope bed, and Darcy was tying a quilt for him as a surprise.
He watched her fry up some venison chops in an iron pan, which she placed over the campfire on a three-legged spider trivet. He caught the rich aroma of gingerbread baking in the Dutch oven also.
Moses was feeling better now that the sun had dropped and dinner was almost ready. There would be no target practice tonight. They were both too tired, and after dinner, when Darcy stood up to collect the dishes, Moses said, "You go back now. It's late and I can take care of these few things."
Too tired to protest, Darcy loaded her musket and whistled to the Shenanigan. She bent down and kissed the old man on the cheek. "You're good to me, Moses Tinker."
He said gruffly, "Go on! Get out of here, you and your silly notions."
Darcy smiled. She could see Moses was pleased. It had been a long time since anyone had been kind to him, and he didn't know how to react. She looked over her shoulder, and he was shaking his head and chuckling.
As Darcy entered the forest tonight, something felt different. She was unsure what it was, but Shenanigan felt it too. They went as far as the stream, and nothing appeared out of the ordinary, but Darcy's intuition told her something was wrong.
They continued walking, and suddenly Shenanigan's legs stiffened, a low gurgling sound rolled in his throat. She saw his lips curl into a snarl, and she scanned the forest for danger. Her hands were shaking, but she managed to hike her skirt up into her belt so she could run. At first, she walked briskly then when Shenanigan started to snarl she ran. Suddenly, someone jumped out of the brush behind her chasing her. Shenanigan was barking and snapping behind her, but she dared not look back.
At a frenzied pace, Darcy raced down the path towards the fort, jumping wildly over rocks and logs, not caring if branches lashed her or tore at her skin. If only she could reach the clearing in front of the fort, the sentry would see her and sound the alarm. Darcy knew the clearing lay just ahead, but the dog's snarling had moved closer, and she knew that her pursuer was gaining ground.
She rounded the last stretch of the trail and broke into the clearing at full stride. Feeling as if her lungs would explode, she looked up, and to her horror, saw the sentry leaning on a post, sleeping. The yelp of the Indian behind her struck terror into her heart. Darcy reached deep within herself to find the speed she needed to save her life. She stretched her legs out before her, hurtling herself at lightning speed. The Abenaki was gaining rapidly and just as he reached out to grab her hair, her gun accidentally discharged with a blast. The sleeping sentry awakened with a start and scrambled to his feet. He lowered his rifle, aimed and put a bullet into the Indian's forehead. The force kicked the assailant back onto the ground, as Shenanigan tore at him savagely.
Darcy did not stop to look back. She continued to hurtle herself toward the fort, not slowing down until she was well inside the stockade. Panting, she staggered to a post for support while people came running. Shenanigan bounded into the fort, blood on his jowls.
Collecting herself, Darcy reported to Nathan's office to give a full account. He was relieved to find her unharmed, but he did not seem overly concerned about the threat of an attack. "I am not convinced that this Indian was part of a war party. It is likely he is a renegade acting alone, but I will take precautions.”
Darcy retired to her room to bathe and steady her nerves. The cool water relaxed her body, but she could not quell her fears regarding the safety of Moses and the McDermott family.
After dining alone in her room, Darcy changed into her green muslin and strapped on her shot pouch and powder horn in case there was an attack. The parade ground was alive with activity as preparations were being made for an influx of settlers seeking shelter at the fort. Darcy looked for familiar faces in the crowd.
The sun had set, and many torches were lit, casting a golden hue over everything. Militiamen and regulars alike cleaned their muskets and joked about the possibility of an attack. No one seemed to think it was likely, most of all Colonel Lawrence.
Darcy was filling buckets with water to quench fires in case there was an attack. She was glad to be busy. It kept her mind from reliving the terrifying events of the afternoon.
Nathan had been consulting with three men all day regarding the construction of the new fort. He was forced to cut their meeting short to assemble the militia. The men emerged from his office and sat down at a table in front of the officers' quarters to have a drink. They were served pints of ale per Nathan's request, and they settled in to observe the activity on the parade ground.
They were men in the prime of their lives, two in officers' uniforms, one in civilian attire, and they lounged in chairs making casual conversation.
"So what did Lawrence do with the stupid bastard anyway?" asked one of the officers.
"I hear he threw him in chains. The guard may have been a crack shot, but if the woman's gun hadn't discharged, waking him up, her hair would be swinging from the top of an Abenaki stick tonight."
The man in civilian clothes seemed disinterested in the conversation, and sat back in his chair with his boots on the table, drinking his pint and observing the frantic settlers pouring into the fort. He had dark hair tied back in a leather thong and a clean-shaven face. Although he was dressed in a coarse linen shirt, his breeding and education was apparent. His complexion was dark, and he had sharp blue eyes.
He was drawn into the conversation by Lieutenant Brewster who said, "That wench must be fast to be able to outrun a savage. Do you know which one she is, Jean Michel?"
"Hmm?"
"Which one is the woman who was attacked this afternoon?"
"I've not seen her," he replied.
"I think I know which one she is. I'll try and point her out," said Major English. "She's one I wouldn't mind tumbling."
He looked around then jerked his head, "There. She’s walking by us in the green dress."
Jean Michel Lupe' was bored. He sighed and turned to look at Darcy as she walked by. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he sat forward on his chair removing his boots from the table.
Tom English laughed, and said, "I told you she was good looking."
English went on talking, but Jean Michel did not hear him. His attention was riveted on Darcy. She had taken his breath away. Never in his life had any woman moved him so quickly and so profoundly. English waved his hand in front of Jean Michel's face, trying to get his attention.
"What is it, Tom?" Lupe' asked irritably.
"I'm trying to tell you she not available. She's the colonel's whore."
"That can change,” and Jean Michel grinned slowly. The men broke into laughter, as Jean Michel sat back. Darcy disappeared behind the surgery.
"It's bad enough she's Irish, but they say she's an arrogant bitch too, so don't say I didn't warn you, Lupe',” said Brewster.
"Your concern for my well being has been noted," said Jean Michel, sarcastically.
The officers moved on to other matters, but Jean Michel was preoccupied with Darcy, and he continually scanned the crowd for another glimpse of her. Suddenly, she returned from behind the surgery and headed past their table again. The officers did not notice her, but Jean Michel burned a look into her that she could feel.
Darcy slowed her pace a little and looked around. She had the sensation that she was being watched, but no one seemed to be staring, so she dismissed the feeling continuing her pace. When she reached the table where the men were sitting, her eyes rested on Jean Michel, and she took a second look. He was leaning forward in his chair, staring directly at her with his forearms resting on his knees.
Darcy's eyebrows shot up then she jerked her chin in the air and turned away. It was as if this man looked into her soul, and suddenly she felt vulnerable. No one had ever looked at her with such intensity, and she looked over her shoulder to be sure that this bold stranger was not gazing at someone else. He was watching her. She continued walking, but she was unable to control her curiosity and looked over her shoulder one last time. The stranger was sitting back now, but he still had the audacity to be watching her. Tossing her head, she turned around and entered Colonel Lawrence's quarters for the night.
Beyond the Cliffs of Kerry Page 17