by Betty Bolte
Samantha bobbed her head. "We will be here and do all we can to ensure you both are well and healthy. You must believe me. I have years of experience in helping bring a wee one into this world."
"Come now, Evelyn, and rest." Amy led her sister from the bench toward the hallway. "You need your strength to be strong for your baby."
The kitchen door creaked, then banged open behind them, startling a gasp from Evelyn. Amy managed to stop her own gasp before it escaped, but couldn't prevent her heart from racing at the explosive interruption.
Walter strode into the room, four scrawny gray rabbits hanging in pairs on either side of his neck. "I've got stew meat." He unwound the rope binding the rabbit feet and tossed the catch on the table. He paused as he took in the scene before him. His glare rested on his wife's pale face, then slid to Amy. "What have you done to my wife? If she did not require womanly assistance, I'd not tolerate any of you in my house one more minute!"
Evelyn flinched, her grip on Amy's hand increasing at the anger suddenly filling the quiet space. "Walter, please don't. I'm fine, really." Evelyn swayed. Amy quickly caught her with her other hand.
"Evelyn? What's happened now?" Walter braced his hands on his hips as he stared at his wife, his expression slowly changing from suspicion to concern.
Samantha shot a glance at the man, then moved to brace Evelyn from the other side, but Walter reached Evelyn first. One massive hand grasped Evelyn's elbow, and Amy waited to hear her sister protest at the roughness or, worse, to hear the slender bones crack beneath the pressure.
Emily pushed open the hall door and strode into the kitchen with a large stack of clean linens, her expression wary at the tension simmering within. Walter growled something unintelligible, brushing past Emily with Evelyn in tow behind him. As they disappeared through the open door, Evelyn cast a cautionary look to Amy and Samantha, silently begging them not to follow. Amy slowly exhaled as they left, shaking her head in dismay.
"At least we know he does care," Samantha said.
Amy spun around and stared, aghast, at Samantha. "I do not know that. He could have hurt her and the baby."
"But he didn't." Samantha looked through the open door for a long moment, then smiled. "Let's follow our original intent and go gather some food from the forest market, shall we?"
Emily nodded in encouragement. "Go on. I'll take care of things here. Those rabbits will be ready for the cook pot in short order. Whatever greens you find will fill out the stew."
Not quite recovered from Walter's offensive treatment of Evelyn followed by Samantha's cavalier acceptance of it, Amy glared at Samantha and Emily. It didn't help that her senses still swam at the mere mention of entering the dark woods. A small part of her longed for Benjamin's strength and calm to settle her nerves, but she quelled the desire. She must stand on her own despite her inner fears. She must be strong for herself. Yet the thought of venturing into the dark interior of the forest weakened her knees.
"Are you all right?" Samantha helped her sink onto the recently vacated bench.
Emily hovered behind Samantha. "What is the matter?"
How did she explain her sense of dread? Perhaps her unease stemmed from some long forgotten childhood incident. She did not know, only experienced intense anxiety about being in the dark. Nothing substantial had occurred to lend such thoughts credence, and yet the sensation persisted.
Samantha hurried to the pitcher on the sideboard and poured a cup of water and brought it back. She thrust the cup into Amy's hands, a worried frown creasing the alabaster skin between her brows. "Here, drink this."
Obediently Amy sipped the cool liquid, letting it calm her panic. Samantha laid a palm on her forehead, relief in her eyes when she detected no fever.
"The—the woods," Amy squeaked. Her mouth dried, feeling like cotton in the hot sun. She sipped the water and gazed at Samantha. "Do you not worry about what hides in its shadows?"
Samantha sighed. "So now we know what this is about. Ghost stories again."
Emily shook her head. "And here I thought you were ill."
"Afraid, but not ill." Amy clenched the porcelain cup, her emotions reeling.
Moving to the table, Emily glanced first at the rabbits, then at the door, then snapped her fingers. "Goodness, I can't tolerate not knowing what is going on up there. Belinda!"
The tall, thin woman hurried into the kitchen, her lanky frame clothed in a loose-fitting, pale green blouse and tan skirt. A white kerchief graced her hair. "Miss?"
Emily picked up a short stack of white towels from the pile and hugged them to her chest. "Could you grab the water pitcher and follow me? I want to take these fresh towels to Miss Evelyn for her toilette."
"Yes, Miss." Belinda's ebony curls bounced as she nodded her head and carefully picked up the pitcher before following Emily from the room.
Amy watched Samantha continue to gather what she'd need on their mission to locate suitable greens for supper. She sipped her water, her composure returning.
"I think you've let your imagination overtake your senses." Samantha examined Amy's face. "Tell me you don't really believe in ghosts and such nonsense." Raised eyebrows signaled Samantha's apparent disbelief in the supernatural.
Fiddlesticks. Must she allude to the eyes watching her from the forest? Another swallow of water provided a delay for Amy to consider how to respond. The truth or what Samantha expected to hear? No question, really.
"Of course I don't believe in ghosts."
Amy studied the relief evident on Samantha's face, but the lie rested awkwardly on Amy's conscious. Truth be told she not only believed in ghosts but had experienced one when she was a young girl. The lingering trace of the slight weight of the mysterious young man's hand on her shoulder, guiding her home along the interconnecting paths of the woods surrounding her family's plantation, kept his disconcerting presence in her mind. She'd been lost in a maze of hedges and trees until he showed her the right path home. And several times since then she had sensed him nearby, watching her. Waiting. For what? What did he want? She never shared the long ago experience with anyone. After all, who would believe her? Samantha's reaction proved the point.
"I'm glad to hear you say so," Samantha said, watching Amy closely. "You worried me for a moment."
Amy struggled to smile to further alleviate her friend's concern. She obviously needed to keep certain realities to herself. "The woods are so dark it's easy for me to be carried away, I suppose."
Amy inhaled deeply, letting the breath out slowly.
"What is keeping Emily?" Amy stood and strode to the sideboard to set down her empty cup. "It doesn't take long to carry a few things upstairs."
"I hear footsteps coming our way." Samantha selected a blue-checked napkin from the pile of clean linens on the sideboard, then looked at the door as the footfalls grew louder.
The door swung open, and Emily sailed through, an apprehensive peek over her shoulder declaring her concern.
"Goodness, I'm glad I went up there." Emily shook her skirts as she halted in front of Amy. "Walter stormed upstairs and confined the poor woman in her bedroom, just like that." She snapped her fingers for emphasis.
"I think Walter fears we intend to hurt my sister." Amy shook her head. "He has some fool notion that I'd actually want to harm her and her baby."
"How absurd!" Emily folded her arms across her panting chest. "Why would he think such a thing?"
Samantha moved to select a wide grapevine basket from the stack near the fireplace. "There is more going on here than we know. Come, Amy, we should go before it gets dark." She aimed her green eyes toward Amy.
Amy shivered at the intent in her friend's gaze. "Must I?"
Samantha's mouth curved as she perused Amy's face before laying the napkin in the basket. "Of course not. You can stay here and explain our dastardly motives to your brother-in-law." She slipped an arm through the arched handle before selecting a set of scissors from the collection hanging on the wall and sliding them into her
apron pocket.
Amy contemplated confronting Walter's suspicions amid his browbeating ways. Unsure of which fate seemed less threatening of the two options, she opened her mouth to speak but closed it again when no words emerged.
"I'll handle Walter and keep an eye on Evelyn." Emily motioned to the pile of gray-furred rabbits. "Right after I skin and cut up those bunnies. You two go find the greens to have with them and enjoy the fresh air."
Fresh air? Hardly. "Will you be all right here by yourself?" The words squeaked from her constricted airway. She swallowed, working to dislodge the lump of anxiety forming in her throat.
"I'll be fine. Besides, Belinda and Paul are here as well." Emily gestured to the scattered disarray of the kitchen. "I'll do the same as I did to Evelyn's sitting room, put things to rights and keep this household running. It helps that Tommy isn't underfoot, like at home. Mary most likely has her hands full with him now that he's practically walking."
"I see you're practicing for when you set up housekeeping for you and Frank and little Tommy." Samantha held the basket with both hands as she moved toward the back door. "Will you take your servant girl with you when you marry?"
Amy eyed the door, aware time drew near to open it and walk through, but dreading the moment.
"Of course," Emily said. "As long as Father doesn't mind."
"I'm sure he will consider her a wedding gift." Samantha smiled. "Come, Amy, let us go so we return before night falls."
Steeling her nerves, Amy walked toward Samantha, who opened the back door and waited for Amy. "If you're going to insist I go with you, then yes, we should hurry."
"We won't be long, Emily." Samantha held the door for Amy to pass through. "After you, friend."
Grimly Amy wrapped her shawl about her shoulders and stepped out the door.
Chapter 7
Waning sunlight filtered through the bare branches of the towering oaks and black walnut trees, dappling the ground with points of golden flame. A light breeze rustled the fallen leaves strewed across the trail and into the reaches of the underbrush. The dusty path Amy trod displayed many small prints, testimony to the herds of deer roaming the forest. Shadows danced on the ground from the dappled light. Hidden birds sang to each other, their voices punctuating the underlying life of the forest. In any other forest, the sights and sounds would be innocuous enough, yet a tremor of dread shook Amy's slight frame. She clutched her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she followed Samantha's lead.
"The deer made a fine trail for us to follow." Samantha carefully picked her way along the narrow path, her leather-clad feet creating tiny earthquakes on the ground. "Remember to stomp as you walk, to warn any snakes and other critters of our approach."
Amy didn't want to think about all the animals and reptiles lurking beneath the underbrush and up in the canopy of the trees. Surrounded by the sounds and shifting shadows of the forest, her heart thudded as she wished desperately to be anywhere else. "How far must we go?"
"Until we find what we're looking for." Samantha dodged a low-hanging branch. "There's no cause for concern. We're as safe here as in town."
Not a very comforting thought with the town currently occupied by British soldiers bent on seeking their vengeance for losing the war. Samantha, of all people, knew how dangerous town was with the soldiers who had attacked her and Emily mere weeks ago. Now they traipsed through the woods inhabited by wild animals and renegade soldiers. Apparently safety came in shades.
They walked along in silence for several minutes, Samantha constantly searching the underbrush for edible plants. Amy wished for a less active imagination at least for this one night. Stories of ghosts blended with her memories of the incidents she'd experienced in her life, occasions that confirmed the existence of spirits.
A spiderweb slipped across her face as she ducked a tree branch. Amy brushed at the nearly invisible thread spun by the unseen traveling spider. "Oh!"
"Chin up, Amy." Samantha dodged another limb and chuckled. "I won't let anything harm you."
"What do you expect to find growing in November anyway?" Amy trudged along, glancing to either side of the trail as slight rustlings sounded at her feet. Bursts of wind eddied leaves along the trail, hinting at ghostly footfalls behind her. A blur of motion drew her attention. Too big for a songbird and too silent for a man. A shiver wiggled down her back.
"Perhaps some lamb's-quarters but most likely a good bit of chickweed to add nourishment to the rabbit." Samantha paused and looked about her. "I wish it were spring, when there would be more variety of appetizing plants."
"How do you know so much about these wild plants?" Amy glanced over her shoulder as another whirling dervish of leaves rose up behind her.
"My time with the Cherokee shaman taught me many things about survival," Samantha murmured. "Ah, white pine will help us season the stew."
"A pine?" Amy blinked in astonishment, noting the swift change in subject. "How?"
"The bark adds a very pleasant smoky flavor." Samantha pushed through the low bushes to reach the tree in question and carefully pulled off some loose bits of bark and laid them in the basket before returning to the path. "That should do."
"I never would have thought a tree would be part of my supper." Amy shook her head as she trailed after Samantha's retreating figure. "Your knowledge is impressive."
"The woods are full of wonderfully nutritious plants if you know when to harvest which parts of them." Samantha held a low branch for Amy to grasp, avoiding a nasty slap in the face. "Timing is the key."
"Speaking of time, I hope we can leave the forest before darkness falls." Amy searched the shadows about her.
"We'll return to the house soon." Samantha indicated for Amy to move forward before she'd release the branch. "It looks like a denser growth ahead."
After they passed the low branch, Amy looked up, probing the tree canopy above with her gaze while she paced behind Samantha. The sky deepened to a dark blue that blurred the edges of the tree branches as the sunlight slowly faded. Please let the beasties stay at bay. A shadow flitted across the patch of sky above her, and she sucked in a breath. A snapping branch alerted her senses. She noticed Samantha move faster down the path, and Amy quickened her pace.
Suddenly her toe snagged on a root, causing her to crash to both knees. "Ow!"
Amy's sharp cry startled a small flock of wild turkeys from their hiding places among the brush. Her knees burned as she caught her breath, watching the birds scatter. Wings flapped and beat the air as they disappeared into the woods. Interesting. Walter had claimed it difficult to locate game. She'd seen deer tracks indicating a healthy herd, and now four turkeys, all in addition to the rabbits he'd killed. Amy vowed to ask Evelyn about the discrepancy upon her return. If they made it home safely.
Samantha turned back at the commotion, then hurried to help Amy to her feet, the hem of her skirts scattering leaves. "Are you all right?"
Brushing off her long skirt, Amy searched the surrounding woods. Truth be told, no. "I'm fine. But let's hurry back to the house. It's getting late."
"I think I see some chickweed ahead. Let me cut some and then we can go." Samantha resumed her journey down the trail.
A mass of low-growing, still-green leaves stretched off to the left of the trail. Samantha paused and surveyed the patch as Amy halted beside her. "They may not be the tastiest this time of year, but they're better than nothing." Setting down the basket, she removed the scissors from her pocket. With her free hand she gathered the tips of the plants and snipped them off, laying them carefully in the basket.
Amy gnawed her lip to prevent herself from urging her friend to hurry. Samantha carefully repeated her snipping process until the basket held a sizable pile of leafy stems. The scent of wood smoke flitted past Amy's nose. Scanning the surroundings, she sniffed repeatedly, trying to find the source of the out-of-place odor. There, in the middle of a small copse of trees steps off the trail, she saw the origin of the scent.
"Saman
tha, look." She pointed at the charred remains of a campfire, still sending wisps of smoke into the gloomy air. "Who would have been camping here?"
"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about." Samantha patted down the contents of her basket, then wiped her hands on her apron.
"You heard Walter talk about the renegades. How can you say that?" Amy clenched her teeth together, her chilled frame tense and poised for flight.
"They are probably far away by now." She scanned the low bushes and trees stretching in all directions. "What else can we find?"
"Don't we have enough?" Amy raked her teeth over her lower lip and surveyed the forest shadows and dimming light. "I have a bad feeling about this place."
Samantha exhaled on a sigh. "Very well. If it'll make you feel better, then we'll return to the house and see what mischief Emily caused during our absence." Samantha prepared to step off, an amused quirk to her mouth at Amy's expression.
"Oh, dear." Amy hid the flood of relief as they began their walk home. "I hadn't considered what might occur by leaving my opinionated cousin behind. I never thought I'd say this but..." Laughter escaped through tight lips. "The poor man."
* * *
Welcome light illuminated the road ahead, spilling from the windows of a roadside inn. Darkness had caught up with Benjamin and Icarus as they made their way back northeast. The weary stallion willingly halted at the hitching rail in front of the wood and daub structure. The inn came highly recommended by a fellow soldier after Benjamin had delivered the governor's response to General Greene a few hours before. But far too much time had passed for his comfort, and his frustration at the delay only increased with each hour.
Benjamin dismounted and patted his steed's muscled neck. "I'll secure a room for me and a warm stable and hot mash for your troubles this day, my friend."