by Janet Cooper
He lowered the tankard and focused his eyes on her. "The corporal informed me he was going to wait until thee returned. His words angered me. I ordered him off my property. He laughed, telling me that he would allow me to watch. He didn't say any more. He didn't need to," Benjamin added in a subdued voice.
Sarah found a chair and sank into it. Of course, she had known what the corporal wanted, but to hear her father’s words increased and deepened her fear. All her strength drained from her body. When Wolf had mentioned the Lenape woman, Sarah had empathized with her. Rape was a horrible crime, that she might be the victim of such a violation filled her with revulsion.
"I struck him." Benjamin's face flamed with embarrassment.
"Good!" said Wolf.
Sarah spun around and stared at him.
"If I had been here, I would have killed him." Wolf spoke the words quietly, without rancor, making them sound even more deadly. He saw Sarah shiver at their intensity.
Benjamin twisted on the mattress and grimaced. "Never before, have I gone against the principles of my religion. I should feel ashamed, yet I do not."
"What did he do after thee hit him?" Sarah asked.
"He knocked me out." Benjamin rubbed his jaw, tenderly.
"Does it hurt?" she asked, raising her hand as if to touch the spot.
He shook his head, but winced. "Sarah, thee must go to Philadelphia.
Sarah noticed he had begun using the intimate form 'thee.' when he addressed her. The change pleased her.
Benjamin continued, "Even if Daniel had not left, thee is not safe here."
"Nor are thee," she pointed out.
"The British have no further interest in the tavern. They took everything of value, except my most prized possession," Benjamin said, focusing his attention on her. "Fortunately, thee was not here."
Tears gathered in Sarah's eyes. With the heel of her hand, she swiped them away.
"Mistress Westcoat arrives tomorrow. Thee must leave, today," Benjamin ordered. "Thee must leave with me. I must guard my property. And since I will remain, I will purchase a few goods to replenish my stocks.”
"If thee is staying, then so will I!"
"Please, daughter."
Sarah stood. "I am not going, I tell thee! There is nothing thee can say that will change my mind." She rushed past Wolf, brushing the leather fringe of his shirt as she escaped the room.
The two men listened in silence as her footsteps echoed down the flight of steps. The front door of the tavern banged closed.
"She will not leave," Wolf stated simply.
"Then thou must take her," Benjamin said. "Willing or not.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
"What?" The shock of what Benjamin had asked him to do felled Wolf like a six hundred pound bear.
"With Daniel gone and me in bed, what other option is there?" He stared at Wolf. "Thou must take her to Philadelphia."
The calm practicality in Benjamin's tone amazed him. "You heard her," he said. "She will not go." Wolf had neither the time to take her nor the desire to force this stubborn woman anywhere she did not want to go.
"Then, thou must make her go with thee." Benjamin's statement brooked no refusal.
He stared at the older man for several long moments. "Why me?"
"Because," came the quiet, unhurried response, "I am unable to take her. And thou is."
Whirling sharply on his heel, Wolf marched to the solid partition that separated Benjamin's room from Sarah's. He pointed to the poplar paneled walls before turning around. "How do I take her if she is not willing? Do I drag her? Throw her on my horse and ride away?" Although white men accused his people of doing such things, he knew of very few cases and then only in time of war. The idea was anathema to Wolf.
"Perhaps," Benjamin said in the same controlled voice.
"Against her will?" Wolf stared in dismay.
"If thou continues to shout the house down, Sarah will learn of our plans before we firm our intentions," Benjamin said in a rational tone.
Lowering his voice, Wolf questioned, "That will make a difference?" He stared at the older man, knowing his confusion and frustration showed.
"It will not change the outcome," Benjamin admitted. "However, having her aware before our actions could make the task more …difficult." His gaze was almost calculating.
"Difficult? This 'task' is not only unbelievable but impossible!" Wolf had no doubt his expression carried the force of a louder tone.
"At times, a father must act to protect his child, especially when she refuses to listen to reason," Benjamin went on as if Wolf had remained mute.
Brushing his short scalp lock, Wolf countered, "Even if you could persuade Sarah to listen to reason and leave, I cannot take her to Philadelphia. My obligations are to my family and my people. I have stayed away too long. I must return."
"Then take her to thy plantation," the Quaker stated.
"You cannot be serious" If the imaginary bear had backhanded him with a huge, hairy paw, Wolf would not have been more stunned.
"She has been to Long Meadow with me. We met thy grandfather. He will act as her chaperon."
Needing to clear his head and unable to tramp through the woods a sure remedy for sorting out problems-Wolf strode to the window that overlooked the side of the yard. He drew back the blue-striped curtain. Below him sat Sarah on top of the split-rail fence, clenching her shawl around her shoulders and staring up at him. His hands froze on the wooden frame. He watched as she climbed down and walked to the other side of the large oak tree, cutting off his view of her.
As he stood there, pondering Benjamin's suggestion, his mind reminded him of what an extraordinary, added complication having Sarah nearby on a daily basis, would add. She attracted him more, much more, than any woman ever had, even his own wife, he admitted reluctantly. Still, he had no plans to become involved with her, and being white made a difficult situation impossible for her sake and his own. Yet while his brain spoke of the danger, his body warmed to the idea.
* * * *
Sarah saw Wolf staring at her from her father's window. What were they discussing? An uneasy feeling swept over her. If she had stayed, she might have heard. After fleeing Benjamin's chamber, she had gathered her cloak and dashed outside, hoping if she were not present they could not plan her future. As she sat looking up, she wished she had delayed her departure. Breaking eye contact, she climbed off her perch and strolled to the far side of the oak. She turned and examined the large tree, remembering her neighbor's son's tale. It did not feel sinister. Nor could she sense any tragedy as she had in her own century. Sarah laughed ruefully. She had about as much psychic ability as a stone. Still, the idea of leaning against this tall giant turned her flesh cold even if she didn’t believe the story. Spinning on her heel, she continued walking.
Although she had not convinced Benjamin to let her stay with him, he had little choice. Never would he allow her to journey to Philadelphia alone, and until he recovered, they could not depart. Since I have seen enough of the 18th Century to satisfy my curiosity, I want my time traveling to end. She glanced toward the inn. Yet, if you return, you will never see Wolf again. The thought stabbed at her heart. She would miss him more than she could ever have believed possible.
An odd thought struck her. Did a similar man wait for her in her own time? Could he affect her the way Wolf did? No one could, she decided. During her twenty-seven years, she had dated often and felt deeply enough to have two affairs. Never had she experienced a man who stirred her the way this Lenape did. Sarah drew her cloak tightly around her. The idea of leaving him filled her with sorrow and regret. If she could be with Wolf in this time travel life, would she relinquish her chance to return? Did her life in the 21st Century matter as much as staying with him? None of her family was still alive. Did her friendships in her other life mean as much to her as this man? She searched for an answer. The Bible story of Ruth rushed through her mind, 'Wither thou goest'. Never had Sarah experienced such confusion.
* * * *
Wolf stared through the glass, hoping to see Sarah step out from behind the tree's protection and reviewed his current situation. His obligations allowed little time for anything except protecting his people and seeking revenge for his family. Still, he owed the Stones for bringing necessary food to his plantation. He faced the older man when a solution occurred to him. "I will take her to Chester. From there, she can board a ship to carry her to Philadelphia. The journey will add a day and a half to my trip, but I will make the time."
Benjamin shook his head. "With the war, there may not be a boat available. Will thou remain until one comes? If thou leaves her, she will come back here. Thou knoweth she is stubborn enough to travel alone."
Annoyed at hearing the truth, Wolf clenched his fists. "She is your responsibility," he reminded the older man.
Eyeing him curiously, the older man replied, "Do not thy traditions require that if thou saves a life, thou has an obligation for it?"
"Yes, but," Wolf said, defending his position, but beginning to feel trapped. "I cannot manage any more days."
"I understand," said the Quaker in an agreeable tone. "If I felt stronger, I would take her. Since that is not possible, she must go with thee to Long Meadow Plantation."
"How do I make her stay? Tie her? Guard her? Spy on her?" Wolf, who seldom lost his control, had done just that. In fact, he had barely been in control. The situation did not please him.
"Thou must do whatever is necessary," Benjamin said simply, as he folded his hands over his chest.
His regard for his elders, hammered into him years before, sealed his mouth. Wolf nodded, but he refused to change the expression on his face showing his displeasure.
"In the wooden chest in her room, thou will find clothes. Pack what thou believeth she will need."
Wolf knew the look on his face conveyed his reluctance to do as Benjamin bid.
"Sarah will never agree to leave, so she will not collect her clothes." Benjamin looked at him. "Unless thou wishes to take her without any change of costume?" The older man's quiet evaluations and well-thought out plans stymied Wolf's additional objections.
He stalked to the doorway. "I will do as you suggest, but I like it not."
"Nor do I," said Sarah's father. "Nor do I."
* * * *
Having walked around the yard, Sarah reached the barn and stared at the open door. Wolf's horse stood in the closest stall. The image of his owner sprang to mind. Her heart twisted painfully. Her desire for Wolf overwhelmed her.
She reached out, tentatively, and patted the chestnut's long, slender nose. He bobbed his head. She shrank back.
"He will not hurt you."
Sarah whirled around.
Wolf drew near then skirted to the opposite side of the stall. "Hello, boy." He caressed the spirited stallion, who whinnied his pleasure. "Shall I hold him for you?"
"No. I will watch from here," she replied, taking a step backward.
"Are you afraid?"
"A little," she stated honestly.
"Do all horses frighten you?" he prodded.
"One threw me," she said. "I climbed back on," she added in defense of herself.
"Did you continue riding?"
She shook her head. "No. I had no need and I didn’t want to fall again."
"Sometimes there are no roads or paths large enough for a wagon or a cart," he said.
"Oh, right." He had caught her off guard, for she was thinking about cars. "What is his name?" she asked.
"Amen apush."
"What does that mean in English?"
He continued running his strong, tanned hand up and down the massive head. "Amen apush is a mythical hero of the Lenape."
She took a step toward the horse and gingerly touched the tip of his nose. The stallion's nose nuzzled the side of her hand, and she forced herself not to flinch.
"He likes you," Wolf said.
"I think I like him," Sarah said, laughing nervously.
Catching sight of the bedroll, her heart dropped. "Thee art leaving?"
"I must return to my people." He eased the bridle over the horse's ears.
"My father and I will miss thee." Sarah truly regretted his impending departure.
"Benjamin Stone is a good man," Wolf said, throwing on the blanket and saddle.
"Yes, he is," she stated with conviction.
"He cares very much for you." Wolf tightened the cinch and attached the large rolled-up blanket to the straps behind the saddle.
"I know, and I treasure him." Saying the words, Sarah acknowledged that although she had known him for only a short time, her affection for Benjamin ran strong and deep.
After leading the horse from the barn, Silver Wolf allowed the reins to hang loose. Sarah followed and closed the double doors leading to the barn.
Finding her here had surprised Wolf and saved him from searching for her. He stood beside Amen apush, seeking the words to persuade Sarah to come with him. "Your father worries about you," he began.
"I can take care of myself." A sharp defensiveness edged her words.
He eyed her. "One against four or five is not favorable odds."
"They will not catch me unprepared again," she retorted.
"It is difficult to always be on guard," he responded.
"I will ask my father and Mistress Westcoat to help," she said. Annoyance showed in her voice.
"Benjamin Stone follows the Quaker's beliefs. Is Mistress Westcoat also of that persuasion?"
"No. Yes. Oh, I do not know. If her son and husband are fighting, she must not be one. She will help," Sarah said with conviction, and hoped she was right.
Wolf gave her a quizzical "Can she handle a rifle? Shoot a bow? Throw a knife?" he persisted.
"How do I know?" Sarah exasperation showed.
"Your father believes you will be safer away from here," Wolf said, trying again.
"As I told thee and him, my place is here." She planted her hands on her hips and stared defiantly.
"Then I have no choice." Wolf mounted. With one swift move, he reached down and lifted Sarah. He placed her before him.
"What are you doing?"
As he quickly bound her hands with a soft cloth, he wondered if times of stress made Sarah forgot her thees and thys, and if so why? Pushing this thought aside, he responded, jokingly, "Taking a white captive?"
"Let me down!" Her fury scorched him.
"Since I am unable to journey to Philadelphia, your father asked me to take you to my home." He gathered the reins in the same hand that he placed over Sarah's strapped wrists and held them firmly against her body. His other arm encased her waist like a vise, trying to keep her as immobile as possible. He guided his well-trained horse with his knees.
She struggled to dismount, but he tightened his grip. "Your father asked me to take you to Long Meadow. We do this for your safety." He nudged his horse forward.
"Let me down," she demanded.
Wolf responded by setting his stallion to a gallop, wanting to separate her from the tavern as quickly as possible. His action caused Sarah to cease struggling. Wolf remembered her comment about falling off a horse. If her accident made her afraid to move, his task might be easier.
"Why do you help him?" she asked, looking ahead, her back ramrod straight and tense.
"My people and I owe him a debt of honor. We will always aid Benjamin Stone if we can. Also, he reminded me of the Lenape custom."
"I am not Lenape," she retorted.
"But I am."
"What custom?" she questioned, stealing a quick glance, before facing forward.
"Curious?" he asked, with amusement.
"Yes."
Her words sounded reluctant, and he wished he might see her face.
"When a Lenape saves a life, he becomes responsible for that person."
"I release you from that bond," she declared, holding her shoulders higher.
"You cannot," he said.
"Why not?" she pe
rsisted.
Wolf caught a glimpse of the surprise showing on her face, as she twisted her head slightly. "Only repaying in kind erases the debt."
"What? Me rescue you? That is ridiculous," Sarah scoffed.
"Perhaps trusting and believing in honor is ridiculous to a white. A Lenape cannot live if he forsakes his word."
"You deliberately misunderstood me. Whites have honor," she said, defensively.
"Not much," he retorted.
"If you do not free me, I will jump."
"You will get hurt."
Sarah glanced at the ground, considered their speed, and decided he might be right.
Benjamin had acted from concern, she acknowledged. Wolf had responded to his request. She was not angry with them for trying to protect her, but neither did they realize the difficulty they had caused her. Nor could she tell them. They would never understand. Trying to change stubborn males' minds was another impossible task.
"We must return. I have no clothes," she countered.
"They are packed in the bedroll," he informed her quietly.
Daring a glance around him, she asked, "In that small blanket? All of my dresses are in that tiny rolled up bundle?"
"I saw no need to take all the chest contained. Instead, I chose a few items."
After another quick look, Sarah shook her head at the meager size. "What did thee bring?"
He noticed she had switched from 'you' to 'thee'. Did the change suggest she was calming? That had happened before, he remembered. Her body's movements had also stilled. However, her face showed little change. "You will see when you unwrap them," he replied.
"If I do not have the proper clothes, I cannot stay," she said haughtily. He knew that she was using any defense she could think of to force him to return her to the inn.
"Lenape women have two or three outfits. They make do. So will you."
Instead of a hasty look, she stared at him rebelliously. "I will run away."
He sighed. "Foolish woman. How will you find your way?"
"I will follow the stars." Sarah faced ahead.
"You can do this?"