by Ana Seymour
Hannah glanced at the floor where both girls had now jumped into the fray, and quickly relayed her message. As she finished, Amos Crawford came out of the back room. Without so much as a glance at the fighting children, he said heartily, “Aye, we’ll be there. We’re chomping at the bit to get started, I can tell you. Out on the trail…out where a man has room to breathe.”
His wife didn’t look his way. “Should I bring something for the party?” she asked Hannah softly.
Hannah shook her head. “The MacDougalls will be fixing the victuals,” she said, her voice raised to carry over the children’s shouts. “Ah…fine, then. We’ll see you tomorrow. Good day to you all.”
Hastily she backed out the door and down the precariously tilted stoop.
Hannah had left the Trask house for last. She was not looking forward to seeing Hugh Trask after his insulting gesture at the inn the other night. She could still feel the man’s sweaty hand pressing painfully into her waist. It was not the first time Trask had made her feel uncomfortable. It seemed that every time he came to the Webster house, he had taken some opportunity to make a sly comment or look at her with a lewd expression. She couldn’t help but be sorry that the Trasks would be accompanying them on this journey. Nancy Trask appeared to be a nice enough woman, though, and their two daughters, Janie and Bridgett, would be good company for Peggy. The poor child needed the diversion.
Hannah was relieved to find Nancy Trask alone at her home. She relayed her message quickly, then hurried away with a sigh of relief. But her relief was shortlived. As she started up the small hill that would lead back to the Websters’ road, she saw that Hugh Trask was coming down the path directly toward her. There was no way to avoid an encounter.
“Halloo, Hannah,” he called. “What were you doing at my house?”
He planted himself in front of her in such a way that she couldn’t continue on up the path without pushing against him, so she stopped. “I just came to tell you that we’ll all be meeting tomorrow night. Mistress Trask has the message.” She kept her eyes down.
“You needn’t run away so fast. My wife could use some company these days with another brat growing inside her.”
Hannah had suspected that Nancy Trask was with child, but the quiet woman kept so to herself that it seemed no one in town knew for sure. Now that it was confirmed, Hannah was appalled. How could Hugh Trask bring his wife on the dangerous journey ahead of them in such a state? If she weren’t an indentured servant, she would give the man a piece of her mind. As it was, she just wanted to make her escape. “I… I’m sorry,” she said, trying to edge around him up the hill. “I have a lot to attend to yet…the packing…”
Trask grabbed her elbow. “You don’t think you’re too good to set awhile at my house, do you, missy?”
Hannah tried to pull away, but his hold on her was firm. She could feel the warmth of his pungent breath. “Of course not, Mr. Trask. But we have only two more days to get ready. I’m sure you and your wife have much to do, as well.”
Trask pulled her a step closer and moved his leg so that his thigh touched hers. “I’m never too busy for the right kind of company,” he said with a chuckle that gurgled in his throat.
Hannah felt sick. She swallowed hard and said, “Please let me by, Mr. Trask.”
He leaned his face nearer and she closed her eyes. “I’m not sure I want to do that….”
Suddenly Trask’s hand was jerked from her arm. He went stumbling several steps down the path. Hannah opened her eyes and found herself looking up at the handsome, angry features of Ethan Reed.
“What’s going on here, Trask?” he asked.
Trask rubbed his shoulder where Reed had wrenched it. “Nothing’s going on. What the hell’re you shoving me for?”
Ethan turned to Hannah. “Was this man bothering you, Mistress Forrester?”
Hannah looked from Reed to a sullen Trask. She wanted to say yes, but a servant had no right to complain about a man taking her arm. She’d heard tales of many who’d suffered much worse than that. “I’m fine, Captain Reed,” she said finally. “Thank you for your concern.”
Trask glowered at Reed. “Why don’t you mind your own business, Reed? We’re paying you good money to guide us on the trail, not to interfere in our lives.”
Reed took a step toward Trask. “Once we get on that trail, Trask, your life and the lives of everyone in your party will be in my hands. You play by my rules. And my rules say that you’d better mind your manners.”
Trask looked as if he were about to make another retort, but in the end he just turned and stalked away down the path to his house.
Ethan watched him go, then smiled at Hannah. “Now, tell me the truth. Are you all right?”
She nodded and made an attempt to return the smile.
He reached out to take her hand. “You’re shaking,” he said with a frown.
“No…it’s just…” She couldn’t come up with the right words.
Ethan slipped an comforting arm around her shoulders for just a moment, then stepped back. “If that man bothers you, I want you to let me know.”
“Yes, sir,” Hannah said, her voice shaky.
“Do you want me to see you home?”
“No, thank you. That won’t be necessary.”
He tipped his hat. “Until this evening, then,” he said, and started off down the road.
Hannah turned toward home with a bemused expression. It was ironic. She’d never looked to a man for protection in her entire life. Now she had Ethan Reed offering her protection from Trask and Randolph Webster offering her protection from Reed. But as her mother used to say, Hannah could do just fine on her own. She didn’t intend to take either gentleman up on his offer.
Chapter Three
Peggy Webster carried the basket of fritters into the public room, the proud tilt of her head showing that she felt grown-up serving as hostess along with her grandmother and Hannah. Janie and Bridgett Trask were watching her closely. They all attended the same school over on Mulberry Lane, but the Trask sisters rarely played with the other children, and Peggy had never gotten to know them well. The two sisters sat demurely on a low bench alongside their mother, Nancy, none of them saying a word. No one except Peggy seemed to even notice that they were there. Hugh Trask, as usual, was noticed by everyone. He’d already had several pints of Ian MacDougall’s corn ale. Peggy wished the Trask family was not going west with them.
“The beans are ready, Peggy,” her grandmother called from the kitchen doorway. “Just give them a final stir and bring them on out to the table. Mind your hands on the pot.”
Peggy smiled shyly at Janie Trask, the older sister, and turned to go back to the kitchen. Her brother, Jacob, tugged at her skirts as she passed. “Where are the Crawfords?” he asked. “Benjie and I were gonna build a fort out back. Now it’s almost dark.”
“I don’t know where they are, Jacob. Probably busy with last-minute packing.”
“Do you want to build one?” he asked without much hope.
“I’m serving the supper, helping grandmother.”
“Can I, too?”
Peggy was usually patient with her eight-year-old brother, but tonight there was too much anticipation, too much uncertainty in the air for patience. “You’re too little, Jacob, and, besides, you’re a boy,” she said shortly, stepping over him to make her way to the kitchen.
Jacob looked around forlornly. His father was busy in conver-sation with Mr. Trask, Mr. Baker and Captain Reed. That’s where he should be, Jacob thought—with the men.
He jumped to his feet and walked over to the group who stood around the fireplace smoking long pipes that sent trails of blue smoke drifting up into the rough beams of the public room ceiling. The four men were laughing at something Captain Reed had said. Captain Reed was just about the most fascinating person Jacob had ever met. He’d been everywhere. And fought the Indians and the French and even a bear.
“Will there be bears?”
The f
our men looked downward at the sound of Jacob’s puny voice. His father picked him up and balanced him on one arm, which Jacob felt was not at all a dignified posture for a boy who was about to become a frontiersman. He squirmed until his father put him back on the floor.
“There are lots of bears, Jacob,” Reed answered, giving him a serious man-to-man look that made Jacob feel good. “We’ll have to be on the lookout, because it will be up to us men to be sure that none of those bears come near our womenfolk.”
The other three men smiled down at Jacob, but Reed stayed serious, and Jacob directed his answer to him. “I’ll be a good lookout, Captain. I’ll be looking out all the time.”
Reed nodded his approval, then motioned with his pipe. “I don’t suppose you smoke quite yet, Jacob?”
Jacob shook his head, his eyes fixed on the pipe. Ethan nodded once again. “Probably just as well. It’s not such a great habit anyway.”
In the kitchen Eliza Baker and Jeanne MacDougall were taking the turkey out of the big roasting oven built alongside the huge kitchen hearth. Hannah lifted the bean pot off its hook with her apron. “I’ll carry these,” she told Peggy, “and you bring out the crock of turnips. It’s not quite so heavy.”
“The Crawfords aren’t here yet,” Peggy informed the women.
“Well, the food’s ready, so we’re just going to have to eat,” Jeanne MacDougall said. “I’ve never known Amos Crawford to be on time for anything in his entire life.”
Jeanne had been snapping all night, Hannah thought sadly. She was fighting their departure up to the very last minute. Hannah couldn’t blame her for her resentment. It must be terrible to lose your only grandchildren this way. But in some ways it was hard for Hannah to identify with the forceful Scotswoman. Except for her mother, who had sometimes lived in a dreamworld where Hannah could not reach her, Hannah herself had never had a family to cling to. She had tried over these past few days to be tolerant of Mrs. MacDougall’s bad humor, which had worsened when Hannah had turned down the MacDougalls’ offer to buy out her indenture. Hannah suspected that Mrs. MacDougall had secretly hoped that when Hannah refused to go west, Randolph would abandon the idea.
She left the kitchen and started toward the tables, holding the solid iron bean pot awkwardly with both hands. Ethan Reed’s eyes went to her instantly, and he stopped m midsentence to cross the room to her. “I’ll take that, mistress. It’s too heavy for a slender young lady like yourself. And, besides, you’ll ruin that lovely pinafore.”
His hands brushed hers as he took the pot from her. “It’s just an old apron,” Hannah murmured in embarrassment, noting that every head in the room was turned to watch them.
Randolph set his pipe deliberately m its holder on the mantel, then walked over to Hannah. “I didn’t realize that you needed help, Hannah. Just let me know what you would like me to do.”
“Goodness, Mr. Webster. We’ve more than enough hands in the kitchen as it is. Everything’s ready as soon as we bring out—”
The door opened and the tardy Crawford family came trooping in. Amos held one of the twins in his arms. Hannah didn’t know if it was Hope or Patience. It was impossible to tell them apart. Benjamin and Thomas followed him, their expressions glum, and Martha came last, holding the other girl. Jacob ran immediately over to Benjamin and thumped him on the back. “We’re going to be lookouts for the bears,” he blurted to his friend.
“Evening, Amos, Mrs. Crawford,” Randolph said with a nod. “Come on in. We’re just ready to eat.”
None of the Crawfords returned Randolph’s welcoming smile. Amos’s eyes darted nervously around the room. “I reckon there’s something I need to tell you all first,” he said.
“What’s the matter?” Randolph asked, immediately alert. He and Amos had been schoolboy friends together and knew each other like brothers.
“There’s no easy way to say it.” Amos set his daughter down, then straightened up slowly. “We’re not going to be able to go along with you.”
There was a moment of silence, then Hugh Trask said loudly, “You’d better be joking, Crawford. There’s no way you can pull out of this now.”
Amos kept his eyes on Randolph, who looked as if he shared Trask’s sentiment. “What’s the problem, Amos?” he asked quietly.
Martha Crawford had let down the other twin, and the two little girls went running over to Peggy, who was their particular favorite. “Mama was crying,” one of them said before Peggy motioned them to be silent.
“We just can’t do it,” Amos said, his own voice breaking. “I was fooling myself to think we could handle this. The girls are no more than babes, and the boys aren’t old enough yet to be of much help. Martha says she’s tired all the time as it is.”
Seth Baker was still leaning against the mantel with his pipe. “You signed on like the rest of us, Amos. We agreed to pay the captain, here, among the four families.”
“We’ll pay if we have to,” Martha Crawford said, coming forward to support her husband. “But we’ll not be going. I’m not taking my babies out to be slaughtered by wild Indians.”
“That’s exactly what I’ve been saying,” Jeanne MacDougall hollered from the kitchen.
“Well, why didn’t you say that months ago when we started making all the plans?” Trask asked Martha, his face florid.
She took her husband’s arm. “We didn’t think it through. I’ll admit it. And if we have to pay the price, then so be it. But we’re not going west.”
Amos looked helplessly at Randolph, who tried to reason with her. “The Indian problem is mostly over now, Martha. The killing was back when the French were out there urging the Indians to kill the English, sometimes paying them to kill.”
“Well, the French are gone. Nobody’s paying them now,” she retorted. “But they say that Pontiac’s Ottawa warriors seized a British fort just last month.”
Ethan had been listening to the exchange in silence, but now he stepped forward. “The British wouldn’t be allowing settlers to stake out land if they didn’t think it was safe, Mrs. Crawford. Though I grant you, there’s always a risk. Pontiac’s the strongest leader the Indians have had in some time. And he’s unpredictable.”
“They can’t back out now, can they, Reed?” Hugh Trask asked him.
“I don’t see how you’re going to force someone to enter into an expedition like this one,” Ethan answered calmly. “You need to have people who are able and willing.“
Trask looked around the room. “My wife’s got a kid in the oven, but you don’t hear us bellyaching about how tough it’s going to be.”
Everyone except Hannah looked over at Nancy Trask in surprise. “You’re with child, Mrs. Trask?” Randolph asked.
Nancy turned beet red and looked down at the floor.
“Is this wise, Trask?” Randolph asked. “Are you sure you want to take your wife away from civilization at a time like this, away from all medical care?”
Trask shrugged. “I reckon the tyke’ll be born just as well there as here.”
Randolph shook his head and turned back to the Crawfords. “All the more reason we need you folks. Isn’t there anything we can say to change your minds?”
Hannah felt a pang of sympathy for Amos Crawford, who looked as though his life’s dream had just been ripped away from him. But she had had her misgivings about the Crawfords from the beginning, and the haggard circles under Martha Crawford’s eyes attested to a hard-fought decision made over many sleepless nights. She hoped Randolph would not press his friend too hard.
“We’ve decided,” Amos said firmly. “I’m sorry to leave you one family short on such little notice, but I’m afraid our decision is final.”
Ethan looked around at the solemn faces. “Do you want to postpone the trip until we recruit another family?” he asked. “It might mean waiting until next spring.”
Randolph was already shaking his head. “No. We’re all set to go. The Bakers and the Trasks have already sold their places. We’ll just have to m
ake do with the ones who are left.”
“I’m sorry,” Amos said again. Martha gripped his arm more tightly, and he patted her hand. The two boys looked down at their shoes, and Tommy wiped his hand across his nose.
Ethan broke the silence. “If it’s all decided,” he said, giving Hannah a quick wink, “then I say it’s time to eat.”
It was more wrenching than any of them had anticipated to leave the rambling white clapboard house at the end of Stratford Lane with all its memories of Priscilla and happier times. Peggy had clung to her grandmother with heartbreaking sobs. Jacob, whose dreams of conquering the West with his friend Benjie by his side had been abruptly crushed, had been sullen and untalkative. Randolph had spent a few last minutes in the bedroom he had shared with his wife and had emerged with red eyes.
They’d ridden all day mostly in silence—a motley-looking train of horses and mules and one jackass that Randolph had purchased, claiming that he had heard of the animal’s reputation as a strong pack animal. It pulled a small two-wheeled cart that they had decided to bring along against Ethan Reed’s recommendations. Hannah thought the beast looked mean and did her best to stay out of its way.
Their midday rest had been brief, so Ethan had allowed them to stop and make camp early in deference to those who were not used to an entire day on the trail, which was all of them.
Hannah stood looking out at the small river they’d been following and pulled her cloak more securely around her. It was a wool cloak that had belonged to Priscilla. She’d been reluctant to take it, but Randolph had told her that if they were to be pioneers, they couldn’t indulge in foolish sentiment. The cloak was practical and warm and would serve her well on the trail.
The sun had already set on the other side of the river, and the night promised to be chilly. Randolph had explained that it was necessary to leave as soon as possible so that they would have plenty of time to build secure cabins before the next winter, but Hannah was wishing that they’d been able to wait at least until May.