Reluctantly the boy took a step.
"Aeana," Asare wheezed. "Child of my heart?"
"Here, Asare," William said. "This boy is here."
God's wounds, but he sounds like his father, Leah thought.
"Aeana, you must remember." Asare struggled to lift his wrinkled hand until it touched his temple. "Remember what this man has taught you. How to shoot the bow. How to ice fish . . . " He gave a little laugh and then winced with pain, his eyelids falling.
Leah prodded her son, confused by the boy's lack of compassion. Hadn't Running Rabbit said her husband was the man who had protected William all these weeks? "Answer him," Leah whispered.
"Yes, Asare," William said without emotion. "I will remember."
Asare smiled with a sigh. "Tired," he mumbled.
"Old fool, running like that," Running Rabbit chastised. "What, you think you are a young buck to run?"
Asare broke into a wide grin. "Almost beat him too, didn't I?" His laughter turned into a gurgle.
Leah looked across the old man's prone body. Tears were running down Running Rabbit's thin cheeks. The women's gazes met and Leah offered what comfort she could.
Running Rabbit patted her husband's hand. "Sleep, old man, and we will talk later. I must get Aeana's mother drink and food. Her journey to find her son has been long."
"No, no." Leah held up her hand. "That isn't necessary. Stay with your husband."
She rose slowly. "Please, let this old woman find use for her hands. He will not die yet. Not for hours."
Leah nodded, feeling awkward, but understanding.
Running Rabbit pointed to a bed of soft hides along the wall. Other Mohawks were coming into the lodge, but they passed quietly, not wanting to disturb Asare and his family in their time of grief. "Sit. Hold your son in your arms," Running Rabbit said. "I will bring you hot drink to warm your insides."
Leah took William by the hand and led him to the furs where she sat cross-legged, pulling him down beside her.
William grimaced. "God, Mother, look at you dressed like a heathen! It's wonder I knew it was you!"
Leah laughed, smoothing the front of her tunic. "You don't like it?" she teased. "I was just getting used to it."
"Not very becoming for a lady like yourself."
Leah's smile fell. He was serious, absolutely serious. He sounded just like Edmund!
Edmund.
That was the first time she had thought of him in hours. God, why hadn't she asked her son where he was?
She looked at William, trying to remember what he'd just said to her. Oh, her clothing. That was it. "Well," she said quietly, "it was very difficult for me to find you. The journey was difficult at times. Clothes didn't seem to matter much. Nothing mattered but finding you."
"As soon as we get out of here I'll buy you a decent gown. No mother of mine will have to wear animal skins!"
She took his smaller hand in hers and stroked it. "Wills," she said quietly. She knew she had to ask about Edmund. It couldn't wait. "Wills, where's your father?"
William's eyes clouded with tears and he pulled away from her, dashing at his eyes with the backs of his hands. "Dead."
Leah was surprised by how calmly she accepted what he said. "Dead, Wills?"
"Dead for weeks, months maybe." He shook his head. "I don't know, Mama. I don't know when this is." He went on faster than before. "I tried to keep track of the days like Papa said, but Two Halves was so mean to me, and we walked so far, and then I got sick and, and . . . "
"Shhh," Leah hushed, reaching out to stroke his back. "It's all right. It's December, December tenth."
He looked at her, his almond shaped dark eyes lighting up. "You mean I didn't miss Christmas?"
She laughed. "You didn't. And when we get home, we'll have the biggest Christmas celebration Tanner's Gift has ever seen. There may even be a new mount in the future for you."
"A horse, not a pony, Mother. It's time I had a horse. I already know what I want. A bay gelding. One of Master DeNay's."
She took his hand again. "We'll talk about it later, now listen to me. I'm sorry to have to ask you, Wills, but it's important that I know. Can you tell me how your father died?"
William looked away, focusing on something across the lodge. He spoke without hesitation. "Hanged himself."
Leah nearly choked. She couldn't believe what William was saying. The bastard had taken his own life, leaving his son behind? "He . . . he hanged himself?"
"Just a few days after they took us, Mama. I don't know why he did it. The soldiers said it was because he was a coward." He looked at his mother, his eyes teary again. "Papa wasn't a coward, was he?"
"No," Leah managed, tight lipped. For the sake of her son, she couldn't speak ill of Edmund. What was the point of it now? "No, he wasn't a coward."
"I knew that. That's what I told the soldiers."
She wrapped her arm around his thin shoulders. "We don't have to talk about this anymore. Not now. We'll be home soon enough. You can tell me everything when we get home."
"Oh, but we can't go straight home." He stared up at her with sudden conviction. "We have to go to New Jersey."
"New Jersey?"
"That's where Papa said the camp would be. I have to go to the American camp and pass on the information."
Leah rose up on her knees taking William's hands in hers, studying his suntanned face. "What information?"
Wills shook his head. "Not for your ears, madame. Only Lieutenant Ross. Papa said to give him the message and he would know what to do with it. He would speak to General Washington himself."
"Bastard," Leah murmured under her breath, looking away. "You bloody bastard, Edmund!"
When she looked back at William he was yawning and rubbing his eyes. She knew she had to control her emotions for her son's sake. Leah tousled his hair. It had grown longer since she'd last seen him. How much he looked like Harrison with it tied back in a braid.
"We're going to leave this place in the morning," she said gently. "Why don't you lay down and get some sleep?"
Without argument, William rolled onto his side, curling up in a ball. "You won't go without me will you, Mother?" he asked, already sounding groggy.
Leah kissed his temple. The poor child, he'd been through so much. "No, I won't leave you. You don't think I'd come this far to leave you behind now, do you?"
He closed his eyes, snuggling down into the furs. "Not likely, I should think." He rolled over presenting his back to her. "But let's not take any savages for escorts with us when we go, Mother. I'm sick to death of the red bastards."
Leah started to admonish him for his language, but then when she thought about all that must have happened to him in the last two months, she realized he needed a little leeway. He'd spent months with an army and then been dragged through the mountains by Indians. He'd been caring for himself as if he were an adult; it was only natural he might think he could talk like one. Once they were back at Tanner's Gift there would be time for a discussion of appropriate language for an eight-year-old.
Leah stroked his silky hair. "Sleep, sweetheart. Sleep and dream of Tanner's Gift. We'll be home in no time."
She sat for a while, watching him sleep. Running Rabbit brought her a potent hot brew in a gourd cup and she sipped it. But after twenty minutes or so, she got up, suddenly feeling restless. So much had happened tonight. William was safe. Edmund was dead. Harrison knew William was his son
She didn't know how he knew. But he knew. What else could he have meant when he asked her why she hadn't told him?
She sighed. She supposed she should have told him before they got here. But at the time there had seemed to be no sense in it. What if they hadn't made it here? What if they had gotten here and William had been dead? Wouldn't she have spared Harrison the pain of knowing he hadn't been able to save his own son?
Leah walked over to where Running Rabbit sat cross-legged at her hearth. Asare slept, his face even grayer than earlier. "He's dying," Leah said
softly.
"Ea. " The Mohawk woman's cheeks were dry. She seemed to Leah to be at peace with herself. "But his death will be a good one," Running Rabbit continued. "He will have died a warrior. He will have died a young man instead of an old one."
Leah nodded. What could she say? After a moment she laid her hand on Running Rabbit's shoulder. "I'm going outside for just a minute. I need to catch my breath."
"The boy will be fine. I will watch him for you."
Leah smiled at the old Indian woman and then turned and left the lodge.
Outside the village was quiet. The fire in the center of the lodges was burning down. The bodies of Kolheek's men were gone. The only evidence left of them was trails of blood in the snow. A dog trotted by. Someone wept in the lodge to her left. Across the compound Leah thought she could hear the sounds of a woman in labor.
She hugged herself for warmth, staring up into the clear, dark sky. A canopy of stars hung overhead, pinpricks of white light so close she thought she might have been able to pluck one from the heavens. The frigid air was sharp in her lungs and when she exhaled clouds formed above her head.
She felt Harrison approach before she saw or even heard him. She smiled to herself wondering if this was what a true union of love was—to know what the other was doing before he did it, to know what he was going to say.
She felt the weight of her hide cloak fall across her shoulders. "I'm sorry," she said softly, still staring up at the sky.
When he spoke, his tone was harsh. "You should have told me!"
"I should have."
"Leah!" He grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn and look at him.
To Leah's bewilderment, she thought she saw moisture in the corners of his eyes. It had never occurred to her that this could have been so important to him. How could it be? Men didn't care about children, only heirs. She searched his face for understanding, for forgiveness. "When you left I was so afraid. And I hated you for not loving me enough to stay."
"I was a fool."
"We were both fools, too young to know how fortunate we were to have each other, no matter how inexperienced we were." She hung her head. "I was pregnant, Harrison. I found out only a few days after you disappeared. Father said I had to marry Edmund before anyone found out. I was so sick, Harrison. It would have been the talk of Kent County in weeks."
"Edmund knew."
"He knew. The bastard. He said he didn't care. He said he'd raise the child as his own. He said that no one ever need know of my sin. I suppose he really wanted my money. But then after we were married he was so mean about it. He called me filthy, soiled goods."
"Because you had lain with a man not your husband?"
She fought her tears. "Because I had lain with a red man. I think if it had been another man, he'd not have cared a lick."
"The futtering whoreson."
"You know in all those years he never touched me." She gave a nervous laugh. "Not that I wanted him to, but he treated me like I was less of a human being because I had loved a man with skin of a different color than my own."
Harrison caught her chin with his fingertip, forcing her to look up at him. "You mean to tell me, in all these years—"
"No one ever touched me. I was true to our vows we made that day in the meadow."
Harrison made a sound deep in his chest as he pulled her against him. "Leah, I'm so sorry, for all I said, for all I thought, for what I did."
"Too late to be sorry." She clung to him, letting the intensity of his embrace strengthen her. "Too late. We can't do anything but go on from here."
He pulled back, his gaze locking with hers. "And how—"
She touched her fingertips to his lips. "He's dead, Harrison."
"Beale?"
"Been dead, probably since before I ever received the message he'd been captured."
Harrison swore in disbelief.
"I don't know much of the particulars. I didn't want to push Wills too hard. Not tonight. Not after all that's happened."
"The Indians?"
She gave a derisive laugh. "Hardly. He never gave them the chance. The coward hanged himself. He gave Wills some sort of top secret information, told him to take it back to the army and then killed himself." Her tone turned bitter. "He left my son to face his captors alone!"
Harrison held her tightly, stroking her back, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. After a moment of silence he spoke. "I don't mean to take up for the sonofabitch, but he may have done the best thing."
Leah jerked her head off his shoulder. "What are you talking about? He left him in the fort with the English soldiers and a bunch of savages!"
"He may have saved the boy's life by hanging himself."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she scoffed. "He abandoned William."
"They would have gotten the information out of him one way or another. They'd have tortured them both, Leah."
She didn't want to believe what he said. She wanted to hate Edmund even unto death. But what Harrison said did make sense. She hated to admit it, but it was reasonable.
"He cared for the boy, for our son," Harrison said gently. "No matter what else he might have done, you have to give him credit due."
"He did love him," she answered after a moment. "He didn't always teach him what I thought was right, but he did what he thought was right."
For a moment they held onto each other, in awe of what all this meant. With Edmund dead they could be together. What a terrible thing to have a man die to be reunited.
Leah sighed, looking up into Harrison's black eyes. "He looks like you, you know. All these years I pretended he didn't. But with that braid of hair and suntanned skin, I don't know how others didn't suspect."
"No one knows?"
"No one but you and me now. That was part of Edmund's agreement to marry me and save my family name."
"How do you think he'll take the news, the boy I mean?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. I'm afraid . . . " She let her voice fade. How could she tell him she feared he had learned some of Edmund's prejudices. How could she admit she had allowed such a thing to take place in her own home? She looked away. "I think we should wait a little. He's still so scared."
Harrison nodded. "If that's what you think best."
She took his hand, tugging. "Let's go back inside. The man, Asare, the one who helped save William isn't faring well. He's not going to make it."
They walked side by side, their moccasins crunching in the snow. Just outside the doorway of the lodge they both stopped. Harrison looked over his shoulder.
"You didn't find his body, did you?" she asked.
She knew he knew she meant Kolheek's.
"No. Just a trail of blood. I didn't see where you hit him."
"Then he's still out there somewhere?"
"Probably dead by now." He squeezed her hand. "Come on. Let's get inside. Come morning, I want to get an early start on our new life together."
Chapter Twenty-two
That night Harrison and Leah slept beside each other in the Mohawk longhouse, their son between them. Near dawn they woke to find Running Rabbit still keeping vigil over her husband. To Leah's and Harrison's surprise, Asare had survived the night.
"How is he?" Leah asked quietly so as not to disturb the other families who slept in the communal lodge.
Running Rabbit shook her head. Her dark eyes were rimmed in red. "He is near the time of death."
Leah knelt beside her, and took her hand. It was obvious that Asare would not live much longer. His breathing had become shallow and labored. His face had taken on a strange bluish hue. The air around him smelled of death.
"We thank you from our hearts for caring for our son," Harrison said from where he stood behind Leah.
Running Rabbit looked up. "Then he is not the son of the white man who killed himself?"
"No," Leah answered. "But he doesn't know. Not yet."
The Mohawk woman smiled to herself. "I told the old man that he
was not a white child. I told him red blood flowed through his veins. Even Shawnee blood can make the difference in a man."
Leah glanced over her shoulder, unable to resist the barest smile.
Harrison smiled back.
"This woman knows you will go today and take the boy, but let me give you food to carry on your backs and snowshoes for your feet. Your journey will be long and hard if you are to make it south to the Ches-a-peake."
"You don't have to do that."
Running Rabbit looked up wearily. "Without snowshoes you will not make it through the mountains. Can you not smell the storm that comes?" She looked down at her husband, her eyes filled with love. "Besides, someone should use my Asare's snowshoes. He will not need them where he goes."
"We thank you for your offer of gifts," Harrison answered. "Would that we could give something in return, but we have nothing. Men robbed us on the trail. They took our horses and our packs."
Running Rabbit waved a withered hand. "Your gift was the child. For a few short weeks my Asare, he was young again. For a few short weeks I saw him laugh as he laughed when he was young before the warring came—before our sons gave their lives to the fighting."
Asare stirred and Running Rabbit took his hand. "So close now," she whispered to him. "So close, husband of mine. Let go of the pain. Don't you see the light?"
His eyelids fluttered. "Don't . . . don't want to go alone, o . . . old woman. Not without you . . . "
"Old fool. I will not be far behind," Running Rabbit soothed. "A blink of your eyes and I will be there. We will all be together, you and I and the sons."
A lump rose in Leah's throat and she bit down on her lower lip to keep silent. The metallic taste of blood kept her steady. She could only pray that she and Harrison would be as close at death as these two were right now.
Harrison rested his hand on her shoulder, sensing how emotional this was for her. "We should leave you," Leah whispered.
"No." Running Rabbit looked up at Leah. "Stay. Death is a time to celebrate. It is a time to share."
Asare's chest rattled as he took a labored breath and then another. "Aeana?" he called, his voice cracking. "Aeana?"
"The boy," Running Rabbit intoned. "He calls for the child."
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