by Leslie Gould
A flicker of pain passed over Duncan’s face, and he shifted his weight more to his good leg. “It will take time for a letter to reach them and then more time for one of them to make arrangements to travel. I’m not saying don’t write to them, but don’t expect immediate help. Let’s see what I can figure out when I get back. Hopefully, that will be soon.”
“Shouldn’t Captain McLeod wait until Zachary is better before making you go?”
“By Bert’s standards, Zachary is well enough.”
Ruby grimaced. “What about the weather?”
“It’s warming,” Duncan said. “The snow should melt soon.”
She shook her head. Their trip home had been so treacherous.
“We’ll make better time on horseback,” he said. “Something will work out.”
“What about a horse? Ours won’t do you any good.”
“Bert has two—Isabelle rode one of them.” He inhaled sharply. “Will you watch after my uncle?”
“Of course,” Ruby said. “So Isabelle will go with you?”
He shook his head. “Father sent her away for a reason. I don’t want her going back.” He paused for a moment. “Actually, could she stay here with you?”
“She’s not used to such a simple home as this.”
He smiled. “Our house isn’t that fancy. She’ll be fine.”
Ruby couldn’t decline him the favor, not after all he’d done for her, but the thought of Isabelle living with her seemed a little daunting.
“I’d have her stay with Uncle, but she hardly knows him, and he’s so crotchety—I’m afraid she’d expire from boredom.”
“Well, I’m hardly entertaining,” Ruby replied, shaking her head just a little.
Duncan smiled again. “That may be, but you’re hardly boring either.” He paused for a moment. In the moonlight, his eyes sparkled and Ruby’s heart lurched again. Perhaps it was best he was going away. She hardly knew what she was feeling.
He opened the door and motioned, with his cane, for her to lead the way.
The next morning dawned much warmer. By the time Ruby served breakfast to Zachary, the icicles hanging from the eaves of the back part of the house had begun to melt, and the snow on the road was turning to slush.
After she’d cleaned up the dishes, there was a knock on the door. She hurried to open it, drying her hands on her apron. Duncan and Isabelle stood on the porch, with Captain McLeod perched on the bottom step.
“Come in,” she said.
Duncan shook his head. “I just walked Isabelle over. Bert and I need to be on our way.”
Ruby had prayed for a change of Captain McLeod’s heart, but it didn’t seem God had answered it the way she’d hoped. “Be careful,” she said. “And thank you—” Her voice choked. “For everything.”
Duncan nodded and returned the thanks for her care of Isabelle and his uncle. “He seems tired today. Would you check on him, to make sure he’s eating and resting? And help him with the chores?”
“Jah.” Ruby would cook for the old man herself. There was no reason for him to do any cooking.
After they said good-bye, Isabelle followed the men toward the road, waving as she walked along, the hem of her dress soaked by the melting snow. Isabelle seemed awfully sweet on Captain McLeod. She’d never seen a girl look so longingly after a man. Ruby thought he was a horrible choice, especially when Isabelle had such a kindhearted brother who had set a good example. Didn’t Isabelle care about what the man had just done?
Isabelle returned with a frown on her face, but it quickly dissolved into a smile. The girl had an adventurous attitude, although her bold affections could likely get her into real trouble. At least there were no possible suitors anywhere nearby with everyone having gone off to war—or Canada.
The days marched on without any word from Duncan. Ruby started the fire in the smokehouse and hung the meat with Isabelle’s help. Soon the savory scent of the smoke permeated the farm, bringing a sense of comfort to Ruby. Zachary grew stronger and managed to help some with the chores. He couldn’t chop wood, but he could help feed the animals.
Ruby sat down and wrote a letter to Hans, asking him to come and help sell the farm. It wasn’t something she could do on her own, and she feared Zachary didn’t have the motivation to do it now. She understood Zachary’s hesitancy. She felt the same way. But she knew it was the right thing to do.
She walked the three miles to the minister’s house, doing her best to make her way through the muddy woods. He was at the woodpile, and a few of his younger children were marching toward the house, their arms filled with kindling.
She asked after his wife.
“She’s improving,” he said.
“And the baby?”
“The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. . . .” His voice trailed off.
“I’m sorry,” Ruby said.
He shrugged, but his eyes grew misty. He quickly blinked the tears away. She asked how he was feeling, and he said he was still weak but seemed to have recovered.
She apprised him of Zachary and his condition, without giving away too many details, and then asked if he knew of anyone who was heading north soon.
He put his finger to his lip and said quietly, “Our oldest son,” he said. “The Patriots are after him, so he intends to sneak away sometime soon.”
Ruby handed him the letter. “Could he give this to Hans?”
The minister nodded.
“Do you plan to go?” she asked.
“We’ll wait until spring. The weather is too uncertain with my wife . . . You and Zachary can travel with us then.” He seemed eager to leave, to perhaps put the sadness of the winter behind them. “We’d be a help to each other.”
She nodded in agreement. Hopefully Hans would make the trip down by then and lead the way.
On the walk back, snow began to fall. She turned her face to the sky, up to the big, fluffy flakes. For a moment she felt a sense of delight, but then a wave of sadness washed through her. Four months ago she could picture a new settlement in Canada, even though she was reluctant to leave Lancaster, but now it felt beyond her imagination. She could barely recall the excitement she’d once felt at a new beginning. Now all she wanted was what was familiar—and for the last four months that had been the farm. Tending it alone, with only Duncan’s help, had made her love it all the more.
Ruby tried to get Isabelle to help with the cooking, cleaning, and washing, but she was worse than useless. More often than not she made a mess that Ruby had to sort through. Still, the girl found it all amusing and she never lost her sense of humor, even when she failed miserably.
Finally, one morning when Ruby had instructed Isabelle to make bread, the girl admitted that her family had servants to do all of the work, which Ruby had long ago suspected. She was sure Duncan had misrepresented his family’s wealth.
No matter.
“Do you want to learn to make bread?” Ruby asked as she added flour to the much-too-sticky dough.
Isabelle pursed her lips together.
Ruby laughed. “The skill might keep you from starving someday.”
“All right.” Isabelle wrinkled her nose. “Give me a lesson.”
Ruby did. And also lessons on milking a cow, churning butter, scrubbing a floor, and washing clothes. And fixing dinner. Old Man Wallis came over for every meal, and although cooking for only four was much easier than what Ruby had done for much of her girlhood, it was still an effort.
So was doing the chores. The weather turned cold again, more snow fell, and the ice had to be chipped in the watering trough several times a day. Zachary took over that chore, using the axe with his left hand to do the job. Besides feeding the animals, he began mucking out the stalls as best he could and spreading hay too. Slowly, he was able to do more and more. She realized he’d gained enough strength back that he was probably stronger than most of the soldiers at Valley Forge. But he wouldn’t have been if Captain McLeod had taken him. She shivered at the thought of what Du
ncan’s condition might be.
“What else needs to be done?” Zachary asked toward the end of a day in early February after he’d carried buckets of water from the springhouse to fill the trough.
“Would you go check in with Mr. Wallis and see what he needs help with? And then accompany him over for supper.”
Zachary complied, and Ruby headed back to the house to teach Isabelle how to thicken the stew.
As they worked, Ruby asked Isabelle more about her uncle.
“He’s my father’s oldest brother,” she said. “He and his wife never had any children.” The wife had died years ago, when Ruby was a girl. “He’s said all along that his land would go to Duncan when he died.”
“Oh?” They all knew, with Duncan’s injury, that it would be hard for him to farm, to make a living at it.
“But he will also inherit the house in Philadelphia, and I know Father expects Duncan to join him in his business.” She shrugged. “But everything’s upside down now. Both Father and Duncan took big risks to align with the Patriots. Father’s import business is all but nonexistent now, considering the Tories in town are furious with him.” She sighed. “Of course, not all of the British are awful.” She grinned again. “I’ve met one or two I’m quite fond of.”
Ruby could imagine.
Isabelle grew serious again. “Now that Duncan’s permanently injured, working with Father seems to be the best plan for him.”
Ruby couldn’t disagree. She’d go on to Canada. Duncan would end up in Philadelphia. There was no reason to pine after something she couldn’t have. And didn’t even want. She was Plain. He wasn’t. She was of the Anabaptist faith. He was Presbyterian.
She’d been behaving like a foolish girl, like Isabelle.
As they continued to work, Isabelle began talking about Captain McLeod. “He and Duncan went to school together. He can be a bit of a brute, but I like a man who takes charge,” Isabelle said as Ruby instructed her to stir water into the flour. “Don’t you?”
“Take charge, maybe, but never one that’s a brute.” Ruby lowered the pot on the fire and then motioned for Isabelle to add the flour and water mixture to the stew to thicken it. “Goodness, wouldn’t you rather spend time with a kind man? One who didn’t force your brother to go back to war?”
Isabelle shrugged. “Captain McLeod is just doing his job. Duncan knows that.”
Ruby didn’t understand how a good friend could act in such a way, but there were many things she didn’t understand about the Englisch. Another was why Isabelle had never been taught to cook or clean, even if the family did have servants.
A week later, when Old Man Wallis came down for dinner, he brought a letter for Ruby that another neighbor had brought from the inn in Lancaster. For a moment she thought it might be from Hans or Paul, and her heart sank. Would they be coming soon?
But as she opened it, she didn’t recognize the handwriting. She scanned it to the bottom—Duncan.
He was at Valley Forge, and the conditions were more deplorable than before. An epidemic of measles was going through the camp, food was in even shorter supply than when they’d rescued Zachary, and even the horses he was caring for were starving and should probably be eaten before all the meat on them disappeared.
Ruby shuddered.
Bert hadn’t allowed him to go on to Philly, and he wanted Isabelle to go back home. Would you go with her? he wrote.
Take the stagecoach. Don’t let Isabelle out of your sight and make sure she returns with you. Show this letter to Uncle Wallis. He’ll give you the money I left behind in case of an emergency.
I’ve written my father, for the third time, telling him what I need from him too. I fear none of my letters are getting through, though. If this letter reaches you, make sure to take it with you and then explain everything to him.
He signed the letter, Your friend, Duncan.
Ruby slipped the letter into the pocket of her apron, unsure of what to do. She couldn’t imagine riding a stagecoach with Isabelle and going to Duncan’s family home. But Duncan had risked everything for Zachary—and now he needed her help.
She had to go.
Isabelle was thrilled to be returning to Philadelphia. Ruby feared she looked like Isabelle’s maid, sitting next to the elegantly dressed young woman, and fought anxiety the first few hours of the trip. She hadn’t had a chance to cook ahead for Zachary and Old Man Wallis. Hopefully they’d be able to feed themselves and keep up with the chores.
Ruby and Isabelle stayed at the same inn again, and then reached Philadelphia by noon. Once they arrived at the station closest to the Wallis home, Isabelle sent a note to her father to send the coach.
When it arrived, Mr. Wallis was inside. “I’ve been expecting you,” he said out the open door, and then turned to Ruby and introduced himself. “Duncan said he hoped you’d accompany Isabelle.”
“Goodness,” Ruby said. “You’ve heard from him then?”
The man nodded. Obviously one of Duncan’s letters had gotten through.
Ruby examined the man more closely. Silver hair showed under his hat and along his temples. He had a kind face, much like Duncan’s—when he wasn’t trying to catch a wayward calf.
A man, perhaps a servant, helped the women up into the coach, and they settled on the bench across from Mr. Wallis. The coach seemed fancy to Ruby, but as other coaches on the street passed by, she realized it was simple in comparison to some. The servant turned out to be the coach driver, and soon they were on their way.
As they rode along, Mr. Wallis asked Ruby to tell him the story of what happened. When she finished, she took Duncan’s letter from her pocket and extended it to the man.
He waved his hand and said, “As you probably guessed, I finally received a letter myself. I don’t need to read yours.”
Ruby nodded and then said, “It’s really my doing that Duncan ended up at Valley Forge. I never expected that Zachary would be forced to return so soon, or that Duncan would volunteer to take his place.”
“Yes, that surprised me too.” Mr. Wallis smiled. “After he nearly died, I didn’t think anything would drag him back to war, but I should have anticipated his care for a fellow soldier might.”
Ruby’s heart swelled. Duncan had done it out of pity for Zachary and also for her, she knew that. But she wasn’t sure why he felt as if it were his responsibility.
“But I haven’t been able to get an answer out of him.” The man smiled.
“What?” Ruby gasped. “You’ve seen him?”
“He’s back at the house. I sent for him, and he arrived this morning.”
“Oh my,” Ruby said. There had been no reason for her and Isabelle to travel after all. She wanted to ask if Duncan would return to Lancaster County, but she couldn’t bear to voice the words. Chances were he wouldn’t. And perhaps Isabelle wouldn’t either.
Isabelle and her father began to chat. “Has Duncan seen Jane?” Isabelle asked.
Mr. Wallis sighed. “Not yet, although I hope he will. Perhaps you could send her a message? I feel so certain he’d stay in Philadelphia if they could patch things up.”
Isabelle didn’t say anything, which was a surprising turn of events for the girl who never seemed to hold back from speaking her mind. Ruby’s heart raced. It was obvious that Duncan’s family liked this Jane.
Isabelle changed the topic to Old Man Wallis. “You’re nothing like your brother,” she said. “He’s so crotchety and outspoken. Ruby’s the only person he likes. Well, maybe Duncan, a little anyway. But certainly not me. I can’t understand how the two of you can even be related.”
“Well,” Mr. Wallis said, “we’re nearly twenty years apart in age, and he’s gone through much harder times than I have, I’m afraid. He’s done well for himself considering his wife died so long ago and he never had children to help him see the world with fresher eyes.”
Mr. Wallis reached across the coach and squeezed Isabelle’s hand. “I hope you showed him some grace, for my sake.”
“I’m grateful for that,” Mr. Wallis said and then smiled at Ruby.
Embarrassed, she ducked her head.
Isabelle’s smile disappeared and she said, “I bet Duncan’s relieved to be at the house.”
“Actually, the British overtook our home last week,” Mr. Wallis said. “We’re currently living in the servants’ quarters.”
“Oh dear,” Isabelle said.
“Yes, it’s not an easy situation. But I’d rather stay close by so that I can keep an eye on things.” He sighed. “I’m afraid we’ve only been able to retain our coachman. The British demanded Cook and the others work for them.”
“I see,” Isabelle said, sitting up straighter. “You’ll be happy to know that I can make bread and churn butter, thanks to Ruby.”
Mr. Wallis smiled as if he didn’t believe her.
“And scrub a floor and wash clothes.” She pulled one glove off and held her red hand up to her father. “Here’s proof.”
“Goodness, daughter,” he said with a smile. “You’ll make your poor Scottish grandparents proud after all.”
Isabelle smiled mischievously and pulled her glove back on. “Any sight or sound from Lieutenant Anderson?”
Mr. Wallis’s face reddened. “No,” he snapped. “And don’t ask after him again.”
Isabelle’s eyebrows shot up as if asking a question, but she didn’t say anything. Ruby suppressed a gasp. The girl was unconscionable. Ruby had never met anyone like her. First Captain McLeod and now a Lieutenant Anderson? One a Patriot and one a Redcoat? Two men on opposite sides of the war. Ruby couldn’t imagine such a thing. Her face grew warm. Did she not care for two very different men, herself? She exhaled slowly and tried to relax against the bench as Isabelle changed the topic back to Lancaster and how lovely the countryside was.
