by Betty Bolte
"But not for very long." Amy returned her friend's hug, hoping no dirty hand prints marred her cloak. "My sister is expecting. I'm to go back and assist her, but I need your help. Please, will you accompany me?"
"Nice to see you, too." Samantha chuckled, then sobered. "You sound worried. Catch your breath and tell me more about what is happening."
Amy let her breath out to the count of three, calming her racing heart. "Evelyn requires me to attend her in order to deflect her husband's ill humor. He seems upset that Evelyn entertained us for even a few minutes. Can you imagine?"
"Her husband is not supportive at a time when his own child is about to be born?" Samantha shook her head. "He should know a woman needs other women around at a time like this. But, Amy, there is naught I can do about the man's attitude."
"Walter tries to be a competent provider, but between the loss of business thanks to the British and the attacks on the farm and their pantry, he has little. That makes him depressed and angry. I'm afraid he'll lash out at his family." Dragging in another deep breath, Amy let it go on a long sigh. She didn't know how effective her support would be, but she had to attempt to alleviate the distress and anxiety within the house. "We don't have much we can offer, but Mother is gathering food and necessities for Evelyn and the baby."
"What are you suggesting?" Samantha removed her gloves and slipped them into a front pocket on her apron.
"Your healing and midwifery skills are my request. Your herbal mixes and simples that promote health and a sense of well-being most of all."
Samantha crossed her arms and studied Amy, considering her request. Amy willed her to agree. She didn't want to face Walter alone during all the uncertainties of the birthing process. Many women did not survive the birthing. Would he blame her for Evelyn's death if, God forbid, she succumbed to an infection or a tear of tender flesh?
"I am unsure whether I can leave at this moment." Samantha glanced at the windows of the house looming over them. "I hesitate to suggest this, but my mother may be available."
Inwardly cringing at the thought of Mrs. McAlester's questionable skills, Amy shook her head at the suggestion. "You are my friend, the only one I trust in these matters above all others." Besides, Amy's mother had warned her to not trust Mrs. McAlester's ministrations. Amy clasped Samantha's hands in her own. "Please? I'm concerned about her welfare."
Worry lines creased Samantha's brow. "I have a few patients I must tend to today before I could consider going. When would you leave?"
"Tomorrow, as early as possible." Raised eyebrows greeted Amy's response. "I understand it's sudden. Your skills and experience are exemplary and needed for my sister's benefit. I beg of you. Please accompany me."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Ben shifted his weight, boots crunching on the path.
"No, thanks, Benjamin." Samantha studied Amy, her gaze laden with concern. "I don't know that I can help you, my friend. I've so much—"
No, she couldn't go without Samantha. Couldn't imagine facing the situation alone. "It won't be for long. Just a few weeks."
Ben stiffened beside her. "Weeks?"
She gave him a wry smile as she heard the surprise in his deep voice. "Babies are unpredictable, so I am preparing for sufficient time to help with the birth and for a week afterward. Until she is back on her feet." And to make sure Walter was not going to harm Evelyn or the infant. Or himself. She paused her thoughts, surprised at the last one. Would he? She hadn't considered the possibility before, but bearing in mind how much he'd lost during the war, she should keep an eye on him as well.
"What's wrong, Benjamin?" Samantha grinned at him. "Will you miss her?"
Ben's expression fought to stay calm, but his eyes locked on to Amy's. He raised his chin, his lips forming a tight smile. "I will manage to bide my time until she returns."
"I'm certain you and Frank will amuse yourselves without my contribution." He was acting adolescent behind his superior attitude. Amy rolled her eyes as she smirked at Samantha. "What say you?"
Releasing a deep breath, Samantha nodded. "I suppose I can check on my patients this afternoon and join you in the morning. Time spent outside the confines of this town will be a welcome change, I dare say. Perhaps it will give my parents time to work out their disagreement without me to interfere."
"Thank you!" Amy hugged her friend, barely refraining from dancing a jig in relief. "I dread spending time in that house, but your presence will alleviate my worry."
"I'm pleased to be of use, always." Samantha smoothed her hands on her apron.
Ben cleared his throat. "I do not wish to appear a bore, but I can imagine that your parents need the time alone, as well. I understand they may have encountered some townspeople who did not appreciate their loyalist views."
Amy inhaled sharply. When had they become loyalists? They did attend a church with a loyalist rector, but then so did her family though not by choice. Samantha constantly seemed at odds with her parents, which could also be part of the disagreement between them if they were not patriotic like Samantha. Still, Ben's audacity in probing into the McAlester's private affairs surprised her. He seemed more interested in the squabble than in supporting her desire to help her sister. However, although his comments bordered on rudeness, she relished his lack of interest, hoping it meant he would grow tired of waiting for her return.
"You are privy to more insight than me, then." Samantha shook her head and frowned. "I do not know, as they will not share their problem with me. I've tried to discover it, but they refuse on account I'm their child. Of all the immature outlooks for my parents to hold."
"I suppose it's a private matter between husband and wife," Ben said. "Surely they will work it out."
Samantha shrugged. "Yes, I'm sure they will. Amy, perhaps you should see if Emily can accompany us as well. She is a ray of sunshine wherever she goes and will be very useful managing the household while Evelyn is brought to bed."
"Splendid idea!" Amy hugged Samantha again. "I'll go now to seek her out and beg her to come with us. It will be like having a holiday."
"At least for us women," Samantha said.
Ben took Amy's hand when she released Samantha from their farewell embrace. "Come, I'll take you to Captain Sullivan's in search of your cousin."
Amy gazed at Ben's dark features and smiling eyes. While Ben's size and strength coupled with his fighting experience left her feeling protected from the British, she imagined his time could be better spent than accompanying her. She withdrew her hand from his clasp. She might as well begin the time apart today as tomorrow, even if her silly heart tugged her toward him. "Have you nothing more productive to do than to walk around town with me?"
He rasped a strong hand across his stubbly jaw, exaggerating the appearance of deep thought. "Hmm. No, no, that's the best plan for this day." Grinning, he extended his hand. "Shall we go find Miss Emily?"
Amy slipped her tiny hand into the massive strength of Ben's. Never had she felt so fragile and yet so safe as she did when she compared her petite frame to the height and breadth of the man beside her. The differences formed the foundation of her vow to never marry, despite her attraction to the man whose hand she held.
Samantha laughed lightly as they walked toward the arched trellis. "Find Frank and you'll likely find Emily. They've become inseparable of late."
"We'll see about that. See you tomorrow." Amy hastily followed Ben's tug on her hand.
He tucked her closer to him as they passed through the trellis arch onto the street. "Frank will most likely be at the printing office this time of day."
"Emily spends too much time among the ink and paper. One would think she worked there as well. And if she's not at the printing office, she's at Frank's home, plotting changes to the draperies and such." Amy chuckled, the warmth of Ben's hand in hers calming. "It will benefit both of them to spend a few weeks apart."
Peeking up at him, she saw the possessive way he watched her, as though he owned her. Unease mingl
ed with a sense of belonging that spread from her core, catching her breath. Being apart from Ben for a period of time would be good for her as well, of that she was certain.
Chapter 5
"You tricked me," Emily groused from the rear seat of the Abernathy carriage as it bumped down the rough-packed trail serving as a road. "I thought we'd enjoy a holiday, not be subjected to torture."
"Torture is what would have happened if the guard found anything hidden beneath our skirts." Amy braced her booted feet as she steered the pair of bay geldings pulling the large, cumbersome vehicle. She'd been forced to use the two-seater carriage instead of the single-seat lighter vehicle because of the quantity of luggage required for three women. Samantha likewise braced herself in the seat beside her. Old Paul rode silently behind the ladies on a small bay mare, vigilantly scanning the road for trouble.
Amy surveyed the track they followed, noting the impressions of many hoof and boot prints in the dust. The image of a moving army recalled the unpleasant experience with the guard. The man had the audacity to lift her hem, to his delight and her mortification. She shuddered. The next time she actually wanted to smuggle goods, she'd sew them into the lining of her petticoat and hide smaller items around her waist to prevent detection. "They wouldn't have dared to search my mother's carriage were she with us."
"Such rudeness from the British is not without precedent." Samantha gripped the side of the carriage until her knuckles were white as it jostled side to side, creaking over each bump in the road.
"I don't understand why they searched us," Emily said with feigned innocence. "We're merely women, after all."
"Contraband, my cousin." The wizened guard's unbelieving eyes appeared in Amy's mind again. Fear inched through her. "Good thing this trip really is to help my sister and not just a story to hide the fact that we're smuggling out necessities. Normally I can talk my way out of any situation, but I don't think he would have believed my inventions this time."
"We are fortunate, indeed," Emily said. "I have spent more than enough time in prison."
"Fortunately they only held you a few days," Amy said. "Frank was frantic to secure your release."
"If not for your connections, Amy, I might still be held with John Bradley's dishonorable intentions." Emily huffed a laugh. "He wanted me to love him, of all things."
"His brain became twisted by loyalist views." The major had made his abhorrent intentions quite clear, and Amy relished the success of her efforts in winning Emily's freedom before he acted upon them. Amy clucked to the pair of horses, urging them to a brisk trot. "At least the whole affair resides in the past now."
"We'll not let them take you away again," Samantha said. "Besides, working together to assist Evelyn gives us the perfect excuse to leave behind the watchful eyes and grasping hands of the British and enjoy our own little adventure."
"I hope it's not much of an adventure. I long for some quiet days for a change." Amy gripped the reins of the matched pair of bays, using their steady trot as a source of calm. "Especially when I think about living in that huge, threatening house."
The closer they drew to the abode, the more her throat tightened, making it difficult to swallow, let alone breathe. For anyone other than her sister, she would not subject herself to this anxiety. Quieting her runaway imagination proved impossible as fearsome images of ghosts intent on removing the inhabitants from the mansion echoed in her mind. The formidable image of the forest swallowing up her sister flashed behind her eyes. Add to that the percolating tension in Walter and this undertaking didn't qualify as a holiday.
Samantha peered across the driver's seat at Amy. "Slow down, Amy, or we'll end up in the creek." She held tighter to the rail to secure her seat in the jostling conveyance.
"I cannot help it." Amy shook her head. "Thinking about that house makes my skin crawl."
"At least you will avoid Benjamin's affections this way." Emily's voice, coming from the backseat, vibrated as if it were a garment scrubbed down a washer board as they bumped along.
"Yes, his attention helps nothing." Amy would not have to look at Ben's expression and wonder what he thought, or avoid his touch, which he seemed to do more frequently, reaching for her hand to hold or to kiss. Or kissing her lips. A surge of heated pleasure flowed through her at the memory, but she firmly dismissed it. "I no longer need him to be a part of my life."
Samantha shot her a look, a knowing grin on her mouth. "So you have said. Many times, I think. Did not Shakespeare have a line in one of his plays about protesting too much?"
"Do you blame me?" Amy glanced at Samantha, then back to the road stretching before them, winding alongside a churning stream. "After the vow we all took not so long ago, I am not yet prepared to renounce my pledge to remain unmarried. I'm not as easily swayed as Emily."
Emily made an unladylike noise from her perch. "The man wore me down until I had to admit my desire to be with him. He is so strong and virtuous, fighting for our country's right to be independent from the Crown. Even defending my honor in a duel. He risked his life for me. How could I say no?"
"It does not hurt that his classic features rival those of the Greek gods." Samantha's grin widened to a full smile.
"You have the right to love, Cousin. I'm uninterested in tempting the Fates by following in my sister's path." Her sister's free spirit and loving nature had dimmed over the years of verbal and physical torture she endured. Amy preferred to be alone than imprisoned. Her resolve hardened. "I will not marry unless I find it impossible to live without the man, which I assure you is not likely."
"Now we know your darkest desire, right? Oh!" Emily grabbed at the side rail as the carriage hit a nasty rut in the road.
Amy steered the horses around the edge of the next deep rut, silently bemoaning the road's condition. The wind during last week's storms had blown the rain sideways, flooding low areas and washing out gutters as well as roads. Her mother had effortlessly managed the team and lighter carriage on their last trip to Evelyn's, and Amy could only pray one day she could match her capabilities. Amy preferred riding astride like her brothers, though her father cautioned her on the propriety of such activities. To appease his demand for her to behave like a lady, she had learned to drive a team, yet longed for the freedom and relative comfort of the saddle. Of course, propriety never entered the conversation when he taught her to shoot equally as well as he did.
"It's not likely I'll find such a man, so do not hold your breath waiting for that event." With Ben out of the picture, no one else could entice her to break her vow. She no longer need worry about how to please a man, about running her home to suit another's tastes and whims, or most of all worrying about running afoul of those tastes and whims.
"We shall see with time's passage," Emily said. "But we have to live long enough to reach your sister's house. Slow down. Oh!"
The cloth roof swayed violently as the carriage jounced. Another bounce nearly unseated Emily, sending her scrambling to stay on the rear seat.
"Sorry!" Amy slowed the team, giving herself more time to anticipate the road's ruts and gouges. The slower pace also enabled her to rest her weary arms. "I'll be mighty relieved to pass this rough spot."
"What happened to not hurrying to arrive at Evelyn's?" Samantha asked.
"I am of two minds on that point." Amy relaxed her shoulders with an effort. Walter obviously resisted the idea of Amy helping Evelyn, so what would he say when Samantha and Emily both came along? His reaction may prove an obstacle. How would she talk her way past his resistance or refusal to have the ladies attend Evelyn?
Samantha held on tightly and glanced at Amy. "The sooner we arrive, the better, to my mind. At least the road has finally leveled out."
Amy slapped the reins on the backs of the horses, urging them into a trot as they cleared the last of the ruts created from the rainwater heading to the creek. An arch of bare-branched trees and evergreens created a tunnel for them to drive through. At the far end, gray sky silhouetted the bar
ren branches, adding to the sense of gloom. The road smoothed as they veered away from the creek and quickly climbed the rise. A small herd of deer paused in the field to watch them pass, finally bounding off to follow a four-point buck urging them to flee. The sun struggled from behind the clouds, shafts of light stretching to the ground and lending brightness to the otherwise dreary day.
Before long the massive house came into view, hunched at the edge of the dark woods. Walter's dogs raced into the road, barking at the carriage's approach. Amy searched the porch for her sister. Let her be safe, not in the pains of labor. Or worse.
"I see why you consider it evil. That house harbors unhappy people, it appears." Samantha stared at the facade of the mansion as she tied her bonnet, while Amy turned the team toward the house, harnesses jingling as they drew to a stop. Paul reined in beside them, swinging from the saddle to help Amy with her team.
Still Evelyn did not appear on the step as usual. In fact, nobody emerged from the house. Walter's hunting dogs barked at the three women, who hesitated to leave the carriage until sure of their safety. Where was everyone? Amy searched the windows, looking in vain for movement inside. Tiring of barking, the hounds circled the wagon with intermittent woofs of warning.
"We've come this far," Samantha said, gathering her skirts. She stood and began climbing down from the seat to the dusty road. "Let's see what is happening inside."
Amy steeled her nerves and stepped down from the carriage. The dogs had been friendly enough last time, but Evelyn had been at hand to control them. Emily also alighted, though she seemed more afraid of the dogs even as they backed up while continuing to bark, tails wagging. Emily kept her hands clasped together as she followed to the steps. The three women walked up the porch steps, and Amy reached to knock on the door. As her fist neared the hard wood, the door swung open to reveal Evelyn, one hand bracing herself on the door frame. Her hair was loose and unkempt, skin pale in the autumn sunlight. Her dress, usually pristine, displayed a spiderweb of wrinkles.