The Uncharted Beginnings Series Box Set

by Keely Brooke Keith

  He unrolled his trousers and water fell from the cuffs. His wet socks clung to his feet like ink on paper. Her boots would be filled with water too. He needed to find them higher ground. He peered through the darkness at the bank, the grass beyond it, and what he could see of the tree line. How would he get her home? He couldn’t think over the sound of the waterfall. “Let’s follow the tree line and go farther downstream.”

  She walked with him until they reached the trees then stopped. He reached out, but she didn’t take his hand. She covered her face and moaned. “What have I done? My family. They need me.”

  “They are fine. It’s you everyone is worried about.”

  “I promised I would always be there for them, yet I was gone all afternoon. Now it’s late and I didn’t make them dinner and I won’t be home to help the twins get ready for bed. I’ve never missed their bedtime, not once in their lives.” Her voice came out like the whimper of a helpless creature. “I broke my promise.”

  “Because they had to make their own dinner?”

  “Because I wasn’t there with them. I just wanted an hour alone to think about my story—”

  “Your story?”

  “Yes. I thought the storm was over, but Zelda got spooked when the hail started. I ran to the cave for shelter and then, well, you saw.” She pushed her hands through her disheveled hair and began pulling out the pins that had failed to hold it back in its usual bun. “Poor Zelda. I tossed the reins over a limb. She’s probably hurt.”

  “Hannah, the horse is fine. She is right where you left her.”

  “And my family? Did you see them?”

  “Only Wade. Your father sent him to our house. He thought you might have gone there.”

  She covered her mouth with one thin hand. “Oh, no. Your whole family knows about this? Who else?”

  “My father and Simon went to search the village so probably everyone by now.”

  “Oh, this is horrible. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.” She made a face as if disgusted with herself. “Last night I wrote a rescue scene in my story. I thought it would be a romantic experience, but this isn’t romantic. It’s humiliating. I shouldn’t have come out here. Or I should have told my father where I was going. I should have thought of someone besides myself.”

  She should be glad she was alive instead of berating herself. Her emotional outburst made little sense. He waited for the annoyance to make him dislike her, but instead he shushed her gently and pulled her into his arms, not caring they were both wet and dirty. “Everything will be fine. I’ll get you home. Your family will be relieved. They will want to hear about your adventure. Just think of it as another story to tell.”

  She slumped a little. Was she leaning into him or more embarrassed by what he’d said? He drew his head back and looked down at her. “What is it?”

  “David will use this to try to ruin us.”

  “Us?”

  “That’s part of why I came out here. He was angry that you sat by me in church this morning and wouldn’t stop fussing about it at lunch. I had to get away.”

  “He doesn’t like me, does he?”

  “I think he’s afraid you will—”

  “I will not…” He almost said hurt you but stopped himself. The truth was he might hurt her. He probably would. Eventually. “I’m not… without complications myself.” She started to pull away, but he held her for another heartbeat. “But when I thought I might lose you tonight, I knew whatever is between us is too important to ignore.”

  She lifted her regal chin and the moonlight peeking between the parting clouds hit her face. She looked like war-battered nobility refusing to concede. “I won’t let David interfere, even though I know why he’s behaving the way he is. He lost Mother and now he’s afraid of losing me.”

  “What about you?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you.” He stroked her arms. “What do you want?”

  “I don’t want to lose anyone I care about again either.”

  It wasn’t the answer he was looking for. Emotion had clouded his mind. He probably wasn’t speaking logically. He needed to ask her outright if he could court her. Before he could say more, a tiny yellow light appeared across the flooded stream. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Over here!”

  The lantern light grew, and his brother called from the opposite bank. “Henry?”

  “Across the water, Simon.”

  “Have you found Hannah?”

  “She’s with me.”

  “I saw her horse. Is she all right?”

  “She’s fine. We can’t cross the stream. We’ll have to go around through the woods, but we can’t see to attempt it now.”

  “Stay where you are,” Simon yelled to them. “I’ll get help. We’ll go up around the springs.”

  “My boots are on the ground over there near the path.”

  A few seconds later Simon replied, “I found them.”

  “Bring them to me when you come.”

  “Hang tight, brother. I’ll get some of the men and we will be back shortly.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Hannah propped the back door open with a wedge of wood then walked through the mudroom and kitchen into the parlor to do the same with the front door. Though still a week until the summer solstice, the midday sun was already heating the house.

  When she was a young girl and the elders were planning the voyage to the southern hemisphere, she’d imagined her new homeland having monkeys and jungle plants. They never knew the precise location where the Providence had run aground, but the Land enjoyed four seasons, so it was far from the tropics.

  Summer had always been her favorite, and she looked forward to it the way she’d looked forward to Christmas as a child. This year, however, had been a blur. The pace of her writing during the spring had kept her from noticing the warming air and blossoming flowers. Now, spring was slipping into summer. The first storm of the season had left the air muggy, the orchard flooded, and her pride in tatters.

  She tried not to think about yesterday’s humiliation. Trying didn’t help.

  Washday puddles dotted the kitchen floor. She tiptoed between the puddles and found a scrub brush on the mudroom shelf. She tossed it to the wet floor then carried a bucket out to the well to fill.

  At least her family seemed to be over last night’s chaos. Warm, clear days suited them by allowing everyone to stay busy out-of-doors. David and Wade were working with their father in the barn. Doris was at the coop teaching Minnie and Ida to gather eggs.

  When Hannah returned to the kitchen, the breeze blowing through the house cooled the room. She placed a folded towel under her knees and began scrubbing the hard wood. Most of the dried mud on the floor had dripped off her dress when she’d finally made it home last night. The mud had seeped into the floorboard cracks and patched them just as Henry’s care for her momentarily made her feel better about her embarrassing blunder. What kind of careless ninny goes into a cave behind a waterfall for shelter during a storm?

  A full day of hard work would be her penance for yesterday’s failure.

  As she scrubbed the mud away, David climbed the porch steps. He leaned his dirty hand against the doorjamb. “Did he touch you?”

  She stayed on her hands and knees but glanced up at him. “Who?”

  “You know who. Henry.”

  David was being a protective brother, but her relationship with Henry was none of his concern. His question rankled. She blew a wisp of hair out of her face. “Not inappropriately.”

  He stepped into the mudroom and pointed at the drying washboard. “Is your dress ruined?”

  “I can still wear it for chores. It’s only stained.”

  “As your reputation will be if you spend any more time alone with Henry Roberts.”

  “Keep your hateful opinions to yourself and get back to work, please.”

  He crossed his freckled arms. “The girls were terrified when you were missing.”

  �
�They’re fine now.”

  “Did you go to the springs to see him?”

  “No. Henry was with his family. Ask Wade. Henry found me and saved me from the floodwater. You should be grateful for him.”

  “He was the reason you ran off.”

  “I didn’t run off.” She tossed the scrub brush into the bucket. “If you’re so concerned about me, why didn’t you know where to look? I’m allowed to have a few moments to myself. Yes, I chose the wrong time to go out yesterday, but Henry knew where I would be because he listens to me.”

  “He probably listened to Cecelia Foster too until she fell for him, then he broke her heart.”

  Hannah swirled the scrub brush in the bucket. The dissolving mud clouded the water. She imagined chucking the whole thing at David. “This is none of your business.”

  “It is when my sister goes missing and upsets the family then comes home hours later with a muddy dress and a grinning suitor.”

  “He is not my suitor.” She shot to her feet. “Get out!”

  He stabbed the air with his calloused finger. “You made a promise to Mother.”

  Tears welled up, blurring her vision. “I said get out.”

  While David stomped away, Hannah gripped the scrub brush so hard her knuckles burned. The house, the kitchen, her promise—it all felt like more of a prison than the one Adeline had been in. She should go back to that scene with this suffocating feeling and bring Adeline’s captivity to life.

  But Adeline had been taken prisoner whereas Hannah wasn’t physically trapped. This was her home, the place she was supposed to want to be. Her home was her life. She couldn’t escape the drudgery of this life except by death or time. The former wasn’t an option, so she was stuck with the latter.

  The girls’ laughter carried across the yard. Her sweet sisters. She shouldn’t think of serving them as drudgery. She couldn’t let a little humiliation make her hope for death. Her discontent probably had more to do with her story than her surroundings. She should focus on writing the perfect ending, not on wishing her life with her family to end.

  “Are you all right?” her father asked from the porch, his forehead shiny with sweat.

  She hadn’t noticed him approaching. “I’m fine.”

  “I heard you yell at David.”

  “Sorry,” she said without meaning it. David deserved to be yelled at and more. She returned her eyes to the floor as she scrubbed.

  He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. “This is all my fault.”

  The scratching sound from her brush bristles echoed in the kitchen. “Father, it was my mistake. I went out in the storm. But I’m fine. I wish everyone would forget about it.”

  “I should have seen this coming. You’re a grown woman. It’s hard for a father to recognize that sometimes.” A pained smile curved his lips. “Do you love Henry?”

  How could she answer her father when she didn’t know what these feelings were? He’d awakened something in her heart, attracted her even. But love? Wasn’t falling in love supposed to be enjoyable? It was in every story she’d ever read.

  Whatever was between her and Henry was too complicated to be enjoyable. Yet, just as he’d said at the springs, it was too important to ignore. She shrugged, hoping nonchalance would deter any more questions, at least until she had the answers herself. “I’m trying to take care of this household and finish my…” She stopped before she could say story. The completed story was supposed to be a surprise for her father. “I have too much work to do to worry about Henry. He’s busy too.”

  Christopher took off his wide-brimmed hat. “He spoke with me last night after he brought you home. Asked permission to court you.”

  “Did he?” The words slipped from her mouth on a breath. She should have seen that coming. The way he’d looked at her the day he kissed her at the springs, his sitting by her at church, his risking his life to save her from the flooding cave. Their relationship hadn’t felt like what she expected a real romance to feel like, but now he’d come to her father. He was making it real. Too real. For her and for her family. “Is that what has David so upset?”

  Christopher shook his head. “Henry and I spoke alone. David doesn’t know.”

  Henry was more serious than she’d thought. If he’d spoken to her father, he must think he had a future with her. Hadn’t she told him she was committed to raising her sisters and taking care of her family? Why would he pursue her?

  The feelings that overwhelmed her at the springs stirred again in her heart. No matter what feelings clouded her mind, she couldn’t forget her promise. Nor could she deny her heart. She mindlessly scrubbed the same spot. “What was your answer… to Henry?”

  “He has my blessing, Hannah, but it’s up to you.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Henry hung another freshly printed page onto the drying line at the back of his shop and examined the print. With precisely placed letters in perfect rows he’d replicated the last page of The Gospel According to Luke. Only one month into the elders’ assignment and he’d printed over a quarter of the New Testament.

  He’d worked six long days a week and would have to maintain the pace for three more months to complete the task in time. It would be a task easily accomplished if he could keep his mind focused. When he’d accepted the challenge of producing an error free copy of the New Testament, printed and bound by Good Springs’s eighth anniversary celebration, he hadn’t imagined he would want to court someone.

  Hannah Vestal wasn’t just someone.

  She was creative and beautiful and captured his mind, finding her way into his every thought. He hadn’t seen her all week, and it was bothering him. If his intellect were overcome by any more emotion, he might find himself desperately in love. He had to see her. It was illogical.

  She would be working in her father’s house, tending to the needs of six other people. He could see her at church on Sundays, but they couldn’t speak to each other during the service and wouldn’t have a moment alone afterward. How could he come to understand her if he didn’t talk with her?

  She’d said she spent her free hours on Sunday afternoons writing. He couldn’t take that away from her. If he were going to see her, he would have to leave the press during the week and go to her. That would put his work behind schedule. If he didn’t finish the elders’ assignment on time, the printing press would not become a village-supported trade. He would have to hunt and fish and grow vegetables until he could produce and trade enough books to earn a living.

  With a library to fill, he’d thought that life unacceptable. His father agreed.

  Perhaps a short break in the afternoons wouldn’t set him too far behind on his assignment. Not every afternoon, only now and then. Starting with now.

  After a quick wipe of his hands, he untied his leather apron. As he reached to hang it on a peg on the wall, a dull thud hit the dusty floor in the doorway across the shop. He rounded the worktable and found a rock with a scrap of paper fastened to it with twine. The note read: Leave hannah alone or you will regret it.

  He leaned out the open doorway. His father was standing at the top of the chapel’s stone steps, talking to Reverend Colburn who was holding a broom. Both men laughed at something one of them said. Children’s voices drifted from a porch down the road. Mr. Owens was driving his buckboard south toward his farm. No one else was around.

  Henry read the note a second time. The message was meant to serve as a threat, but a perpetrator who threw rocks and ran didn’t evoke fear, only annoyance.

  The note writer wanted to keep him from Hannah and had assumed he would be easily bullied. That person hadn’t been there when he’d saved Hannah from the floodwaters. The note writer underestimated the determination that simmered beneath this printer’s scarred surface.

  Henry’s aching fist tightened around the slip of paper. He marched across the road to the chapel and caught his father’s eye. “May I speak with you, Father?”

  Matthew met him at the bottom
of the stone steps. “What is it, son?”

  “Did you see anyone run past the shop?”

  “When?”

  “A moment ago.”

  “No, but I wasn’t looking.” Matthew shielded his eyes from the sunlight and glanced up the stairs at Reverend Colburn who was sweeping the chapel’s doorway. “William, did you see anyone run past the print shop a moment ago?”

  The reverend shook his head and resumed his sweeping.

  Matthew pointed at the note in Henry’s hand. “Is something wrong?”

  Henry checked the road. Though no one else was within earshot, he led his father across the road and into the print shop. He passed the note to his father. “This is the second time someone has anonymously warned me to keep away from Hannah.”

  Matthew widened his pale eyes at the note. “Seems childish. And sloppily written.”

  “Then we are agreed.”

  “Who do you think wrote it?”

  “A child. Well, someone who is not anymore but is acting like one.”

  “Who?”

  Henry remembered what Hannah said about her brother David not wanting them together. “A person who doesn’t think I should court Hannah.”

  One corner of Matthew’s lips curved into a grin, puffing his wooly side whiskers. “That list might be longer than you think.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Matthew handed him back the note. “Well, you’ve had a few bad passes at courting. Might have left some hard feelings in your wake. Maybe someone doesn’t want to see you break another heart.”

  Henry tossed the note onto the worktable. “It almost sounds like you’re in agreement with them.”

  “Not fully.” Matthew picked lint from his sleeves. “Men often take longer to commit than the fairer sex, but with a sweet girl like Hannah, you must be careful you aren’t leading her down a road you don’t want to travel.”

  At this point he was farther down that road than Hannah seemed to be. While he was focused on her, she was focused on the story she was writing. He paced to the window and looked toward the back of the schoolhouse where they’d danced that night. “That isn’t the problem.”