You have no idea how you will feel about it six months or a year from now, he said firmly, but she always shook her head and tried to make herself clear to him as she rebuffed him.
Yes, I do know how I'll feel a year from now ' or two ' or ten' . Unless Edward died, she would be feeling very married. And even if he did, she had no desire to marry again. Her years with Edward had soured her on the experience forever. She knew without a doubt that she would never again expose herself to being the object of a man's violence, or a possession to be used and battered. She couldn't even imagine how other people stood it. And she knew that many husbands were kind men, but she had no desire to take another gamble. She would be very content to stay alone forever, although young Lieutenant Parker remained to be convinced, as did the other men she had met in Boston.
You should be grateful you have so many suitors, instead of complaining about them! Belinda Blake always scolded when Sarah grew annoyed about them.
I don't want suitors. I'm a married woman! she said one day without thinking, and then realized what she'd said almost as quickly as she'd said it. Or I was ' it's just that I know better than all this nonsense, she said demurely.
I'm sure you do. Marriage is such a blessing, it makes mere courtship seem like crumbs at a feast. Still ' you can't have one without the other. It was hopeless to explain it to her, and Sarah gave up eventually. It was useless.
It was in early December that she met Amelia Stockbridge, and subsequently her husband. Colonel Stockbridge was the commander of the Deerfield garrison, and the string of forts all along the Connecticut River, and Sarah found him fascinating to talk to. She questioned him extensively about the area, and he enjoyed sharing what he knew of it with her. She was particularly intrigued by the Indian tribes, and surprised when he told her that most of them were very peaceful.
We only have a few of the Nonotucks and Wampanoags there now, and they haven't caused any trouble in a long time. There's the occasional problem of course, too much firewater, or an argument over some land, but most of them don't cause any problems. In fact, he sounded as though he liked them, and Sarah commented that everyone had warned her that the outlying areas were too dangerous, because of the Indians, and other problems.
That's true of course, he said, smiling at her, surprised that she had any interest in the subject at all. We see some Iroquois in the spring when the salmon run. And there's always the danger of a band of renegades or a Mohawk war party coming down from the north. They've been known to make trouble for the settlers. They'd had an entire family murdered the year before, husband and wife, and seven children, just north of Deerfield, but he didn't tell her that, and generally it was quite rare now. But on the whole, the really dangerous ones are in the West. The worry of course is that the problems with the Shawnees and the Miamis will spread east, but I can't imagine they'll come as far east as Massachusetts. They could though. They've certainly been causing enough trouble out there. The president is very upset about it, he thinks we've spent enough money on Indian wars, and he's very sympathetic about the land they've lost. But they can't just continue to go around killing settlers constantly because they're angry. They're giving our people a devil of a time at the moment. She had heard about it, but it was far more exciting hearing about it firsthand, and her eyes shone as she listened.
The colonel was in Boston for the Christmas holidays. The Stockbridges had a house in town, where the colonel's wife stayed most of the time. She hated living at the garrison in Deerfield, and the colonel visited her whenever he could get away. But it wasn't very often, as Deerfield was a four-day journey.
A few days later they invited her to a small Christmas party they were giving for their friends and a few of the colonel's men who were on leave in Boston, and she happily accepted. It was a congenial group, and everyone sang while Amelia Stockbridge played the pianoforte.
Sarah enjoyed the evening thoroughly, and the only difficulty for her was that they had also invited Lieutenant Parker. He hung around her like a puppy much of the time, and Sarah did everything she possibly could to avoid him. She was far more interested in talking to the colonel, and she was fortunate enough to have a few minutes alone with him toward the end of the evening, and he was somewhat shocked by what she asked him.
I suppose it's possible, he said, frowning as he looked at her. It's quite a trip, particularly in the snow at this time of year. You couldn't come alone, you'd have to hire a guide or two, it's a good four- or five-day journey. And then he smiled ruefully. Even my wife won't do it. Several of the younger men have wives in the area, or at the garrison, and the settlers are all around us. We're quite civilized, but it's not very comfortable. I very seriously doubt that you'd like it, even for a visit. He really felt an obligation to discourage her, but it was obvious to the colonel from the questions Sarah asked that she was determined to go to Deerfield, and see it. Have you friends out there? He couldn't think of any other reason for her to leave the comforts of Boston. It was so pleasant here, and she looked far too delicate and too elegant to undertake such a journey. And yet he knew that she had come to America on a small, dismally uncomfortable ship, without so much as a companion to escort her. Sarah Ferguson was obviously a great deal tougher than she looked, and he couldn't help but respect that. I'd like to pick your guides for you, if you do decide to go. I wouldn't want you in the hands of some ruffians who'd get lost on the road, or get drunk. Let me know when you'd like to go, and I'll find some men for you. You should bring two guides, and a driver. You'll need all of them, and a good sturdy carriage. I doubt if you'll enjoy the trip, but at least you'll get there safely.
Thank you, Colonel, she said with a light in her eyes he had never seen before, and it was obvious to him then that nothing he could have said would have stopped her. He tried to explain that to his wife, when he told her about the exchange and she scolded him soundly.
How can you even think of letting a girl like that go to Deerfield? It's far too rough a place, she has no idea what it's like. She could get injured, or lost, or ill from the long journey. She thought his allowing her to go, and even offering to find guides for her, was an outrage.
She came here, all the way from England, on a very small ship, all alone. I don't think Sarah Ferguson is the little drawing-room flower you think she is, my dear. In fact, after talking to her tonight, I'm quite sure she isn't. I think there's a great deal more to that girl than any of us has guessed, or than she's told us. He was a wise man, and he could see in Sarah's eyes that she had come far over a long, hard road, and as long as she could do anything about it, nothing was going to stop her. She had the kind of determination he'd seen in the people who'd gone west, to eke their living out of the land, and face the unknown, and even fight the Indians. The ones who had survived it had been just like Sarah. She'll be fine. I'm quite sure of it, or I wouldn't have told her I'd help her.
You're an old fool, Amelia growled at him, and then a little while later, she went to bed and kissed him, but she still thought he was mistaken about Sarah, and that her plan to go to Deerfield was completely crazy. She only hoped that Sarah would meet someone in town and forget all about it.
But Sarah came to see the colonel again the next day. She had thought about what he'd said all night. In fact, she had been so excited she couldn't sleep. And she wanted to accept his very kind offer, and ask him to help her find guides to bring her to Deerfield. She asked when he was going back, and he said in another week. He was going right after the New Year, and this time he planned to stay until spring. Amelia was going to be busy enough without him, as their oldest daughter was expecting a baby any minute.
I'd come along with you, Colonel Stockbridge said thoughtfully. But I'm going with some of my men, we're going to ride hard, and cover the ground a little more quickly. You'll be more comfortable if you come at your own pace. And then he smiled at her, and made a suggestion. I could leave Lieutenant Parker to go with you, if you like. But Sarah was quick to decline his sugg
estion.
Td much rather you didn't, she said softly. I'd prefer just hiring guides, as you suggested last night. Would you be able to find some? she asked cautiously, and he nodded.
Of course. Would you like to go in the next month? he asked as he mentally wandered over a list of men he would have trusted to go with her.
I'd love that, she said, and they exchanged a long, warm smile. None of his daughters had ever offered to go and see him. They went once every few years, with their families, under great duress, and considered it a remarkable adventure. This girl on the other hand acted as though it were the opportunity of a lifetime. And to Sarah, it was. It was all she wanted.
The colonel promised to get in touch with her in the next few days, and they both agreed not to give his wife any of the details. They both knew that she was going to be furious at what Sarah was doing, and the fact that her husband was going to help her do it. But he felt sure that she was going to be quite safe, otherwise he wouldn't have helped her with her plan to get to Deerfield.
Sarah thanked him profusely, and walked back to her hotel, although it was quite a long distance. But she was so exhilarated she wanted to get some air, and as the wind stung her face, and burned her eyes, Sarah only smiled as she pulled her cloak more tightly around her.
Chapter 13
SARAH SET OUT on the fourth of January, 1790, in a very old, but very solid, rented carriage. The driver she'd hired with it was young, but he'd traveled the area for a long time. In fact, he'd grown up within a day's journey of Deerfield. He knew all the trails for miles around, and his brother lived at the Deerfield garrison, and Colonel Stockbridge had been well pleased with him when he found him. His name was Johnny Drum and he was just a little older than Sarah. The other two men rode on horseback alongside. One was an old trapper, George Henderson, who'd spent years traveling up to Canada to trade furs, and had spent two years in his youth as a prisoner of the Huron. Eventually, he had taken a Huron bride, but that had been long since. He was old now, but people said he was one of the best guides in Massachusetts, and the other guide was a Wampanoag. His name was Tom Singing Wind-+ and his father was the sachem of his tribe, a holy man and a leader. Tom worked as a guide at the garrison, but he had come to Boston to see some men about trading for farm equipment for his tribe, and Colonel Stockbridge had asked him to do him a favor, by traveling with Sarah. He was a serious-looking young man, with long dark hair, and sharply carved features. He wore buckskin breeches and a buffalo coat, and he spoke only to the men whenever possible, and never to Sarah. It was a form of respect for her, but she couldn't keep her eyes off him as he rode alongside them, when they began their journey. He was the first Indian she had ever seen, and he looked every bit as noble and stern and ominous as she would have expected. Yet he didn't frighten her, and she knew from everything the colonel had explained to her that the Wampanoags were a peaceful tribe of farmers.
It was snowing as they rolled slowly out of town and headed west, and Boston was already stirring in the early morning. They were carrying with them all their supplies, furs, blankets, food, utensils, water. The two guides were expected to cook for them, and the old trapper was reputed to be a fine cook, but Sarah was more than willing to help him.
They rolled out of Boston at first light, and Sarah sat in the carriage, watching the snow fall outside, and she had never felt as excited in her life, not even when they set sail out of Falmouth on the Concord. It was as though she knew this was one of the most important journeys of her life. She wasn't sure why, but she knew without a doubt that she had been meant to come here.
They left town from Scollay Square, and traveled for five hours before they stopped to rest the horses. Sarah got out and walked for a little while, and she marveled at the beauty of the countryside. They were already just past Concord, and after half an hour they rolled on again. It had stopped snowing by then, but everything was covered in thick, white snow as they reached the Mohawk Trail and headed west toward their destination. Sarah wished she could be on horseback with them, but the colonel had insisted that she be driven. It would have been hard terrain for her, but she knew she was equal to it, and she was impatient to move ahead quickly and reach their destination.
They ate roasted rabbit on a spit, prepared by Henderson that night. They had packed it in snow, and brought it with them from Boston, and after the long day's ride, it tasted delicious. And as always, Singing Wind said very little to them, but he seemed pleasant and good-humored. He cooked some dried squash he had brought and offered it to all of them, and Sarah thought she'd never tasted anything as delicate or as sweet. It seemed like a feast to her, and after they ate, and attended to their various needs, she curled up in the carriage under the trapper's heavy furs and slept like a baby.
She woke at first light, when she heard the others stir and the horses begin to commune with each other. It had stopped snowing and the dawn lit up the day like a fire in the heavens. And as they began to roll, Johnny Drum and Henderson began singing. And as she bumped along in the coach alongside, Sarah sang softly with them. They were singing songs she had learned long before in England.
And when they stopped to eat that night, Singing Wind once again provided all kinds of dried vegetables and he was a master at cooking them in ways that would please the settlers' palates. While Johnny took care of the horses, Henderson shot three small birds, and they ate them too, and it was yet another meal that Sarah knew she would never forget. Everything was so simple here, so much more real, so honest, and so infinitely precious.
And on the third day, as they rode on, Henderson told them tales of when he had lived with the Huron. They were all in Canada now, but when they had been allied with the French against the English they had been all over this part of the world, and a real menace. In fact, he claimed they had kidnapped him not far from Deerfield. But Sarah knew they were long gone, and she wasn't frightened as she listened. They talked of the trouble Blue Jacket of the Shawnees was causing in the West, and the stories Singing Wind told of him were quite unnerving. Sarah began speaking to him dien, and asking him questions about his tribe, and she thought she saw the flicker of a smile in his eyes as she asked him all the things she wanted to know about his customs. He told her that all of his family were farmers, that his father was the sachem, the chief, but his grandfather had been a powwaw, a spiritual leader even more important than the sachem. He explained that his tribe had a special bond with all things in the universe, that everything around them had its own spirit, and in its own way, was sacred. He told her how Kiehtan, which seemed to be his word for God, had control over all things in the universe, all creatures, all beings, and one must always give thanks to him for food, for life, for everything that Kiehtan gave them. He explained the Green Corn Festival to her, which was their celebration of an early harvest, and she listened to him with wide eyes, in rapt attention. He explained that all beings must be fair to each other, and be guided by Kiehtan, and that if a man mistreated his wife, in his tribe, the woman could leave him. And as she looked at Tom, so proud, so strong, as he sat astride his horse, she wondered why he'd said that, if he knew or sensed that she had been mistreated. He seemed unusually wise for a young man, and the values he described to her sounded more than reasonable. In fact, they sounded very civilized and quite modem, and in some ways nearly perfect. It was hard to imagine that these were the people the early travelers to this part of the world had called savages, and some did even now, particularly in the West. There was obviously nothing savage about him. And it intrigued her too to realize that one day this man would be the sachem, the chief of his tribe, and how wise he would be to our ways, after spending so much of his time with the settlers. His father was a wise man to send him forth among them, as an ambassador of sorts. And as she watched him ride, she knew that in a lifetime she would never forget this moment.
The fourth day seemed the longest one as they reached Millers Falls, and continued their journey. They saw several forts, but only sto
pped once, and were given some food and fresh water. They knew it was not far now, but at nightfall, they had still not reached the garrison, and the question was whether to continue through the night, or wait till morning. They were all anxious to get to their destination. On their own, they would have pushed on, but with a woman with them, none of them dared to press her. But it was Sarah herself who said she thought they ought to go on, as long as there was no danger.
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