Her Honorable Enemy

by Mary Davis

  Couldn’t the man take a compliment?

  Charles stepped away. A very long day indeed.

  After over four hours of trailing Mr. Thompson all over the Belle Vue Sheep Farm and adjoining lands, they were finally heading back to the crossroads. The wind had kicked up and rain would begin soon. Still following Mr. Thompson, Charles felt like a peasant or his servant. He honestly couldn’t understand this man’s animosity toward him and the English. Would he even give Charles a chance to speak to him?

  Charles goaded his horse to a trot and caught up with Mr. Thompson at the crossroads.

  Mr. Thompson stopped and turned his horse before Charles could call out to him to stop.

  “Mr. Thompson, now it is my turn.”

  Mr. Thompson held up his hand to quiet Charles. “Save your breath. I forbid you to seek out my daughter. Do not set foot on my land. If you do, I will shoot you as a trespasser. You have been forewarned.” He lifted his reins to turn his horse.

  “Mr. Thompson, I beg your pardon, but I have followed you around half a day and been very patient with the understanding that I would be granted an audience with you and be able to speak my mind. I have been respectful, and now I demand you hear me out.”

  “Nothing you say will sway me.” But Mr. Thompson gave a nod for Charles to say his piece.

  “How have I wronged you?”

  “Not you personally. It’s your country and what you stand for and whom you fight for. England is overbearing and takes what it likes without consideration for others.”

  “And what has England taken from you?”

  “My home.”

  “Your home doesn’t belong to England.” It might if England was granted possession of the San Juan Islands. But that hadn’t happened yet.

  “Not my home here on San Juan. When the Oregon Treaty was signed, all of Vancouver Island was granted to England. Even the portion south of the forty-ninth parallel. England was to have everything north but somehow managed to gain a large portion of an island clearly in United States territory.”

  Mr. Thompson thought that Vancouver Island should have been split between the two countries? Though Scotland was technically part of the British Isles under the governorship of England, they were always trying to become their own entity. It just didn’t make sense for an island not to be part of the same country. So it had made sense that all of Vancouver Island be granted to England.

  “You had a home on Vancouver?”

  “It wasn’t enough that I lost my first wife and my unborn son and can never visit where they or my parents are buried. I lost my home. Had to start over here. And now England wants to take that, as well.”

  None of that was Charles’s fault. He needed to direct the conversation back to its original purpose. “About your daughter.”

  “There is no argument you can make to persuade me to change my mind. My daughter is off-limits. And that is final.”

  “Sir, I wish you would reconsider your position on me. I love your daughter.”

  Mr. Thompson narrowed his eyes. “You love her? You have spent enough time with my daughter unchaperoned behind my back to know that you love her? And you wonder what you have done to wrong me?”

  “It all happened quite by accident.” If only he had let Rachel run off after her brother that first day. But she had intrigued him, and he’d grown stultified with this uneventful war. “Nothing inappropriate has happened between Rachel and me.”

  Mr. Thompson raised his eyebrows.

  Other than the unsupervised meeting behind his back. “Regardless of how it happened, I love your daughter and she loves me. Do you not want her to be happy?”

  “Happiness is something romantics and fools strive for. To live a contented life serving the Lord should be one’s goal. God never promised us happiness on this earth. That will come in the hereafter. I have made my decision, and I expect you to abide by it.”

  “So you won’t reconsider attending our Christmas soiree?”

  “Soiree?”

  “That means party.”

  Mr. Thompson shook his head. “Then why don’t you just say so? No, I won’t. Do I have your word that you will stay away from Rachel?”

  How could he agree to stay away from part of himself?

  Honor.

  He nodded his assent. “Keeping her away from me won’t stop either one of us from loving the other. It may only serve to turn your daughter against you.”

  “That will be my problem. And the problem of the man I find to be her husband.”

  That was like a knife twisted in Charles’s heart, and Mr. Thompson knew it.

  Mr. Thompson turned his horse and galloped off.

  Well, Charles’s prayer had been answered. Mr. Thompson had listened. And answered with a resounding no! Charles should have prayed for Mr. Thompson to soften his opinion toward him. Lord?

  Bishop moved his horse next to Charles’s. “That went well.”

  Charles swung his gaze to the lieutenant. “Well?”

  “Neither of you tried to kill the other. This war didn’t get ignited into bloodshed.”

  “He barely listened to me. He had his mind made up before he ever came and wasn’t going to change it.”

  “Did you really expect anything else?”

  “I’d hoped.”

  “Be happy we don’t have to report to our commanders that we got this war riled up over a girl.”

  “But I am no closer to Rachel than I was this morning.”

  “You didn’t kill her pa nor he you. I’d say that is something. My best advice to you would be to forget about this girl.”

  “That would be like forgetting my own hand.” He would need to pray for guidance.

  Chapter 17

  Rachel kneaded the bread dough. They would have fresh bread for supper tonight. The wind howled outside. It was going to be a long, stormy night.

  At midafternoon, she heard Papa’s wagon arriving in the yard. He would have the children with him. The children blew into the house on a gust of air. Genevieve gave each of them a leftover biscuit from breakfast and set out a jar of raspberry jam. Once they had eaten, she sent the two younger ones off to play in the parlor and ordered the two older ones to get busy with their schoolwork.

  Papa stomped in after putting the wagon and horse away.

  Genevieve went to him and helped him off with his coat. “I fear we are in for a rough night.”

  Papa didn’t reply to her. Instead he pointed to Lindley and Alice. “Go up to your rooms and take the little ones with you.”

  Lindley spoke up. “But Mama said we had to get our schoolwork done before supper if we want dessert.”

  “Go!” Papa barked.

  Alice scooped up her book and ushered Winnie and Edith up the stairs.

  Lindley stared at Papa and moved deliberately slowly, closing his book, pushing away from the table, standing and finally walking to the stairs.

  Something was wrong with Papa. And whatever was upsetting him had something to do with Rachel. She knew because he hadn’t looked at her since he arrived home.

  But she hadn’t been told to stay, so she draped a towel over the bread and turned toward the stairs.

  “Hold up, Rachel.”

  She turned to Papa’s stern face. He pointed toward the parlor. She headed in that direction. He tilted his head to Genevieve to come, as well. Rachel couldn’t think what she had done to upset Papa. Oh, no. Please don’t let Papa have found me a husband.

  Rachel stood by the fireplace.

  Genevieve sat on the settee.

  Papa pulled the pocket doors closed and turned with a disapproving glance to her.

  “Papa, I promise I haven’t left the house. You can ask Genevieve.”

  Papa held up
a hand to silence her. “Sit.”

  She would rather stand but moved to the nearest chair and lowered herself into it.

  Papa paced behind her. Genevieve’s gaze darted between Rachel and Papa. Her stepmother gave nothing away, if she even knew anything. Papa came around the chairs and stared at Rachel, his hands clasped behind his back.

  She wished Papa would say something. Give her some clue as to what this was about.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but a shutter banging against the house stopped him. “Don’t move.” He strode outside to batten down the shutter.

  Once Papa was out of the room, Rachel pinned Genevieve with her gaze. “What is Papa upset about?”

  “He hasn’t told me yet. I guess I’ll find out when you do.”

  “You don’t think he found a husband for me and is going to force me to marry someone I don’t want to, do you?”

  “Your father’s not cruel. I don’t believe he would make you marry someone you are opposed to. He truly wants the best for you.”

  “I know who would be best for me.”

  Genevieve narrowed her eyes. “You would be wise not to mention him or the English.”

  “Why does Papa hate them so?”

  The door opened, and Papa came back inside.

  Genevieve lowered her voice. “It’s not your place to question. That you know he hates them should be enough.” She turned as Papa entered and smiled up at him. “Is the shutter secure?”

  He slid the pocket doors closed again. “Yes. I checked the rest around the house. That one always gives us trouble.” Papa went back to pacing behind Rachel’s chair. He evidently needed to collect his thoughts again. Fortunately, it didn’t take as long this time. He had calmed down even more since he first came home. Battening down the shutter seemed to have been a good thing.

  He stood in front of Rachel once again. “A particular lieutenant came to speak to me today about you.”

  Another suitor? First a sergeant, now a lieutenant. If Papa was so against the English, she wished he would just let her grow into an old maid. She would be happier living under Papa’s roof until she was old than with a man she didn’t love. But she knew it was best to keep her comments to herself and let Papa say all he was going to.

  “Don’t worry. I told him to stay away from you and not to set foot on our property.”

  A bad feeling pinched Rachel’s insides, and she could feel the blood drain from her face.

  “Yes. Lieutenant Young of the English military paid me a visit. I have forbidden him to see you. And if he steps onto my property, I will shoot him as a trespasser. So you can forget all about him. You will never see him again.”

  “But, Papa—”

  “This is not a discussion.”

  “Please, at least get to know him. He is a fine man.”

  Papa’s voice rose. “A fine man! He’s English! I will not allow any daughter of mine to go cavorting around with the enemy. He said he loves you. Just how long have you been sneaking off to see him?”

  She didn’t want to answer that but knew she must. “A couple of months.” That was fudging the truth. It was more than three months. But two months, four month or a year would all be just as bad to Papa. “Nothing happened between us. I promise. He was a perfect gentleman.”

  “Nothing happened! Perfect gentleman! He is no kind of gentleman. A gentleman wouldn’t have been sneaking around with another man’s daughter. He would have come to me first. And as far as nothing happening, the man claims to be in love with you. That is not nothing. That is a man with clandestine intentions.”

  “No, Papa. It wasn’t like that. It just happened.”

  “He said the same thing. Two people don’t just happen to keep meeting repeatedly. You know how I feel about the English. You should never have been anywhere near the English. If you saw an English person, especially a man, you should have run in the other direction.”

  “Won’t you at least consider meeting him?”

  “I’ve met him. You are not to see him or seek him out ever again.”

  “Can’t you try to like him?”

  “No.”

  “But you don’t know anything about him.”

  “All I need to know is that he’s English.”

  Rachel stood. “That’s not fair!”

  “Fair or not, that is the way it is. And you will abide by my wishes.”

  “Please, Papa. I’m begging you to give him a chance. I’m sure you’ll like him.”

  “I’m sure I won’t.”

  “But I love him.” She knew she shouldn’t have said that as soon as the words crossed her lips.

  “You are never seeing him again. Never!”

  Both pocket doors to the parlor pushed open quickly and banged inside the walls. Lindley stood in the doorway. “That’s not fair!”

  Papa glared. “Lindley, go to your room. This doesn’t concern you.”

  Her half brother stepped into the room. “Leftenant Young is a good man. He’s nice.”

  Papa strode over to Lindley. “What do you know of this Lieutenant Young?”

  Rachel spoke up. “Lindy, don’t. You can’t help.”

  Papa held up a hand to her. “I want to hear what my son knows. Lindley? You’ve met Lieutenant Young?”

  Lindley squared his shoulders. “Yes, I have. He’s teaching me to sword fight.”

  “Have you seen him on more than one occasion?”

  “Lots and lots of times.”

  Rachel wished her brother would stop. He wasn’t helping her and was only getting himself into trouble now.

  Papa turned to her. “Did you take him?”

  She was about to say yes to lessen Lindley’s likely punishment, but her brother spoke more quickly.

  “I followed Rachel at first.” Lindley was talking in as loud a voice as Papa. “Then I went myself. The English are not bad. Leftenant Young is a nice man. And you are being unfair to Rachel.”

  “That’s enough from you, young man. Go to your room, and I’ll deal with you later.”

  “No, I won’t.” Lindley whirled around.

  Rachel had never heard her brother talk to their father in such a fashion. The front door slammed open. Lindley continued his protest by stomping across the porch.

  Papa went after him to the door. “Lindley! Get back here!”

  “No!” her brother called back.

  She could tell by the warble in his voice that he was running.

  The door closed, and Papa returned to the parlor.

  Genevieve stood up. “Aren’t you going after him?”

  “He ran out to the barn. He’ll be back when he gets hungry.” Papa turned on Rachel. “See where your defiance has taken this family? You have caused your brother to disobey, as well. The younger ones look up to you as the oldest. You have a responsibility to set a good example.”

  She was not the one who caused Lindley to disobey. It was Papa’s unyieldingness, his unwillingness to listen. “May I go to my room?”

  Papa gave her a nod. “But be back down in an hour to help with supper.”

  Tears burned Rachel’s eyes as she ran up the stairs. Papa was being so unfair. Why wouldn’t he at least listen? She opened the door to her room, and three pairs of her sisters’ eyes stared up at her. She grabbed Romeo and Juliet off the dresser and stepped back into the hall, closing the door behind her. She didn’t want to have to explain to them why she was upset or even look at them. She wanted to be alone. Normally, she would head out into the woods, but she was forbidden, so she went into Lindley’s room and closed the door. He wouldn’t mind. She sat on his bed and opened the book to the pressed flower. The fragrance had left it. Unfolding the letter from Charles next, she reread it.

  She covered her face and let
the tears fall. Maybe she would run away. Charles had once teased that they could get married in secret like Romeo and Juliet and run off together. She wished she’d taken him up on his offer.

  But that would start the war going. Papa would make sure of it. He would probably accuse Charles of kidnapping her.

  Lord, please change Papa’s mind. Show him that Charles is a good man. I love him.

  Three hours later, as Rachel was helping Genevieve put the last of the food on the table, she turned to Papa. “I’m not hungry. May I go to my room?” She didn’t want to sit at the table with Papa or any of them. She wanted to be alone. And while preparing supper, she had snuck bites of food so she wouldn’t be hungry.

  Papa studied her for a moment. “Very well. But go get your brother. He’s been out there long enough.”

  Gladly. She was allowed outside only to use the privy, so this was a welcome treat.

  “Put on your coat,” Genevieve said. “The rain is coming down.”

  Though Rachel was an adult, Genevieve still tried to mother her. Rachel didn’t mind the rain. It made everything smell fresh and clean. But she put on her coat. It would be good against the cold that came with the rain. She tugged Lindley’s coat off the wall hook, as well. He was probably quite cold from being out there all this time.

  Papa handed her a lantern as she went out.

  She ducked her face against the blowing rain. The cold, wet air slipped into her lungs. At the barn, she pulled the door open only far enough to squeeze inside the dark interior. Her poor brother out here without light and in the cold. “Lindy?”

  She listened, but no reply came. So she called more loudly, “Lindy, where are you? It’s just me, Rachel.”

  She searched the stalls. “Supper’s ready.”

  He must be in the loft. Probably fell asleep. With the lantern in one hand, she climbed the ladder. Lindley was nowhere in sight. She maneuvered over to where she’d last seen Mariposa and her kittens. And there they were. The kittens were all piled on top of each other, sleeping.

  She bent down and petted the mama. “Where’s Lindy? Do you know?”

  The cat leaned into her hand.

  Rachel trudged around the loft until she was sure Lindley wasn’t up there. She called out again. “Lindy! Where are you?”