by Sara Donati
Nathaniel was leaning easily against the logs, but his eyes followed her every move. Elizabeth’s hood had fallen back and stray hair clouded around her flushed face in damp tendrils. Her eyes snapped with energy and satisfaction, and Nathaniel wondered how long he could keep his word to her and not touch her without invitation.
“Well,” he said. “Why not?”
She did laugh then, out loud. “A lady living alone?”
“If that’s what you want most in the world, Boots.”
She turned away suddenly, and spoke to him over her shoulder. “Can you imagine my father’s reaction?” Suddenly she startled him: she crossed through the foundation and came up to stop in front of him and grasp both his hands in her own.
“This is enough for right now,” she said. “And I have you to thank.”
Nathaniel’s earring twirled in the sunlight when he shook his head.
“No need to thank me,” he said gruffly. “It’s work I was hired to do.”
“Thank you anyway, and thank you for Hannah,” said Elizabeth. “I am so pleased that she’ll be coming to school.”
“That was Falling-Day’s doing,” said Nathaniel. “I left the decision up to her.”
Elizabeth lifted her chin and grinned at him. “Is that so?” she said. “Is that what you want me to believe?” She dropped his hands and stepped back. “Well, let me tell you something, Mr. Bonner. You can’t pretend to me like you do to the others.”
Nathaniel reached out to grab her but she slipped away. “Oh, no,” she said. “You promised.”
“Not only are you teasing me,” Nathaniel pointed out, “but you are flirting most outrageously. Hardly the behavior I’d expect from you.”
Elizabeth drew up in surprise and the truth came to her with nothing more than a little glide of recognition. What she wanted from Nathaniel was simple: she wanted him near her, because she had fallen in love with him. She was looking up at him with all this showing clearly on her face, when there was the brief clap of igniting gunpowder from the forest. Elizabeth registered the flash at the corner of her eye and then a sudden surge of air against her cheek as the bullet flew past her to find another target.
Nathaniel let out a grunt of surprise, pitched forward to grab Elizabeth, and fell to the ground, pinning her underneath him. His solid weight pressed her into the snow from foot to shoulder; his blood was warm on her cheek.
The world went hazy for a moment. When her vision cleared Elizabeth realized that Nathaniel was looking at her. She closed her eyes, letting waves of relief and nausea wash over her. He rolled away, but stayed low to the ground.
“Are you all right?” she asked. “Are you shot?”
“Just a graze,” he said, touching his face.
Elizabeth grabbed his hand to pull it away. There was a shallow red furrow bleeding freely, about an inch long. A few grains of powder were embedded around the wound like a scattering of pepper.
“Somebody shot at you,” she said, stunned. Then she leapt to her feet and started toward the forest.
Nathaniel was so surprised that at first he could not credit what he was seeing: Elizabeth marching forward barehanded in pursuit of a man with a rifle. With a low curse he launched himself after her and caught her by the wrist to drag her down behind the partial wall of the schoolhouse.
“Stay down!” He scanned the trees warily, struggling all the while to keep her next to him.
“But somebody shot at you,” she said finally, when she realized that he would not let her go.
“Ain’t the first time,” he said grimly. “Probably not the last, either. Although I will admit it was a bit close for comfort.”
There was an awkward pause, and then Nathaniel smiled. “By God, Elizabeth, what did you mean to do? Grab him by the ear and drag him back to the judge?”
Elizabeth looked surprised. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said. “I didn’t think anybody would shoot at me, I suppose.”
“Well, you may be right about that,” Nathaniel said dryly. “Whoever it was is long gone, at any rate.” And he stood and pulled Elizabeth to her feet, brushing snow and debris from her overcoat. She reached up and touched his cheek again.
“Who would do such a thing? We have to find out.”
“Elizabeth!” Nathaniel’s hands rose to clench her shoulders. “Don’t tell anybody about this. Not anybody.”
Elizabeth blinked up at him.
“I ain’t hurt,” Nathaniel said, more gently. “And it’s not time to bring things to a head yet.”
She began to tremble then, and he slid an arm around her while he watched the riverbank over her head.
“It’s all right,” he said. “Everything is all right. They’re long gone. Nothing more to fear.”
Elizabeth was thankful for Nathaniel’s solid presence and his calm: it was comforting to have his arms around her. Right at this moment, more frightened than she cared to admit to herself, Elizabeth found Nathaniel’s gentle murmurings, the light touch of his hands on her hair, and his utter competence more seductive than any embrace could have been. She let herself relax against him, and soon stopped trembling.
Nathaniel pulled away a little, observing Elizabeth closely. He smoothed a hand over her hair one last time and managed a grim smile.
“There’s blood on your cheek,” he said, rubbing the spot softly with his thumb, his fingers threading into the hair above her ear. Then Nathaniel dipped his head and brushed her mouth with his lips.
“I promised not to do that,” he said. “But maybe you’ll make allowances, under the circumstances.”
Elizabeth’s face lost its stunned look, and she stepped away looking as if she had just woken up.
They walked away from the schoolhouse in silence. Glancing back, Elizabeth saw the outline of the foundation in the little clearing, the curve of the stream as it disappeared into Half Moon Lake. A beautiful spot, but she wondered if she could ever approach it again without thinking of what had almost happened today.
Nathaniel was walking along beside her silently, his attention shifting from side to side, his rifle cradled easily in his hands. For a few minutes they didn’t talk at all.
“This must be about Hidden Wolf,” Elizabeth said slowly.
Nathaniel shrugged. “Likely as not,” he said. “But men have been known to take out after each other on account of a woman on occasion.”
As shaken as she was, Elizabeth had to laugh out loud. “You don’t think this was about me, do you? That seems very unlikely indeed.” The idea that men could want her enough to shoot at each other was strange and upsetting, and she got no satisfaction from it at all. She was afraid to look at Nathaniel, afraid to see what might be on his face.
“I’ll tell you what I think,” Nathaniel said in a low voice. “I think that Richard Todd wants Hidden Wolf, and the quickest way to it is through you.”
Then he stopped, and glancing around, Nathaniel took Elizabeth by the arm and pulled her into the deep blue shadows of a stand of pine.
Elizabeth looked up and found Nathaniel’s face just inches from her own, so that she started and dropped her gaze.
“Now,” Nathaniel continued. “We need Hidden Wolf. There’s no denying that. Otherwise we’ll have to move on up into the wilderness where folks will let us be.”
“So you are in the same position as Richard is,” Elizabeth said numbly.
Nathaniel’s hands tightened on her upper arms until she gave in and looked up, and then he held on to her gaze and refused to let her look away. “Listen, now. Richard wants the mountain and he’ll take you to get it.”
Elizabeth tried to drop her head but he put a finger under her chin to lift it and looked her directly in the eye.
“I want you,” he said.
A warm rush of breath left Elizabeth. She could smell him, the oil on his skin. Leather and sweat and blood.
“I wake up wanting you and go to sleep wanting you,” Nathaniel murmured, pulling her shoulders up to h
im so that her head fell back and the arch of her neck rose to meet him. “Elizabeth. I want you as much as I want to breathe, but I need the mountain.”
“Then the end result is the same.”
“No.” His eyes moved over her. “But the lack of you won’t kill me outright. If you decide you won’t have me. That’s in your hands. But without Hidden Wolf we can’t survive.”
Elizabeth inhaled, and her voice sounded very small and strange to her own ears.
“And my father won’t sell it to you. How much did Chingachgook offer him?”
“One dollar seventy-five cents an acre.”
Elizabeth’s head snapped up and her mouth fell open in a little circlet of surprise. “That’s almost two thousand dollars. Where in heaven’s name—how—” She thought of the turkey shoot, and the fact that there hadn’t been an extra shilling between Nathaniel and Hawkeye.
“It’s none of my business,” she said finally.
Nathaniel inclined his head. “I can’t tell you about that right now.”
“But I can’t believe my father would turn down such an offer!”
“Well, he did,” Nathaniel said. “When Richard Todd offered him two dollars. You have to think, Elizabeth, that out near the big lakes, land is going for forty cents the acre.”
Her head was down while she thought. “There’s something else at stake here,” she said. “If the prices are so high.”
“You could say that,” Nathaniel agreed.
She looked up, very businesslike. “You need another two hundred dollars, then.” Elizabeth pulled away a little. “I could give you that much, or lend it to you if you prefer.”
Nathaniel shook his head. “I don’t think there’s much use. Todd will just up his offer.”
“How does Richard have so much cash at his disposal?” Elizabeth asked. “I don’t understand.”
“Well,” Nathaniel said grimly. “It don’t hurt to have a bachelor uncle who owns half of Albany leave you everything when he dies. And Todd is a clever man with a dollar.”
The questions racing through Elizabeth’s mind would not stand still long enough for her to give them voice.
“Something must be done to stop Richard,” she said softly, mostly to herself.
The graze on Nathaniel’s cheek had stopped bleeding, but a bruise was rising. Elizabeth registered the intensity of his level gaze, the slow flutter of his eyelids, the sheen of sweat on his brow, and it occurred to her that to have him so very close was to put aside all ability to reason clearly.
“Perhaps—” she began. “Perhaps there’s some other way,” she said. “If you give me a little time to think about it.”
She turned away and started up the path again, and this time Nathaniel followed.
Just before the woods opened up to the Southerns’ homestead, Nathaniel caught Elizabeth’s hand to make her stop.
“Can you get on by yourself now?” he asked. “I don’t want to be seen.”
Without warning, a wave of homesickness for England washed over Elizabeth. It had never occurred to her that she would so soon yearn for the overprotective attentions of her aunt, who would not let her walk two miles to the village by herself if the weather was wet. She didn’t want Nathaniel to leave her.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, but heard her voice shaking.
Nathaniel glanced around them and then touched her face.
“You’re a brave one,” he said. “My mother would have liked you, English or not.”
“I’m all bluff,” Elizabeth said, managing a sour grin. “Haven’t you seen through me yet?”
“Oh, I see more than you think. I saw you run off after that shooter, didn’t I?” But Nathaniel dropped his hand from her face. “Did Many-Doves tell you I’m going with the women to the Midwinter Ceremony?”
“She said you’d be gone a week.”
“You think you might miss me a little?”
Elizabeth squinted up at him. He had undergone one of his transformations: now all trace of his fury and cautiousness were gone. It was an amazing talent he possessed, and she wondered if it could be learned.
“I don’t see much of you as it is,” she said, trying to match his tone. Elizabeth bit her lip, knowing how familiar this sounded, and what it gave away.
Nathaniel glanced around them again, and swung his rifle to its accustomed place across his back. “So maybe you will miss me a little.”
“No,” said Elizabeth. “I won’t miss you at all, because I won’t be here. Julian wants to go to Johnstown for a few days.”
Nathaniel looked down at her in surprise. “Where did he come up with that idea? Did somebody tell him about Midwinter afternoons at Trees-Standing-in-Water?”
It was Elizabeth’s turn to look puzzled.
“There’s games played after the morning ceremonies,” Nathaniel explained. “Some pretty serious wagering goes on, even the whites come to watch.”
“But where is—Trees-Standing-in-Water?”
“The whites call it Barktown. Just about ten miles short of Johnstown, after you leave the Sacandaga. On the Big Vly.”
“And there are games. I see,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully. “Well, I wasn’t sure about going along with Julian, but now I fear that I must. Nathaniel,” she said, “you’ll watch out for yourself?”
“I have no intention of getting myself killed, if that’s what you mean.” Nathaniel shifted his weight suddenly and stepped away.
“Moses Southern is coming this way,” he said under his breath. “Don’t be startled, now.”
Elizabeth fixed her face in a friendly but neutral smile and turned as Moses approached. He had a fishing net draped over his shoulder, and he kept on walking, barely nodding to the two of them in response to Elizabeth’s greeting.
“Got better things to do than stand and gab in the snow,” he mumbled.
“So do we all.” Nathaniel nodded. “I best be getting on home.” Then, when Moses was well past, he lowered his head toward Elizabeth and whispered. “Remember, nothing about what happened at the schoolhouse.”
“Will I see you in Johnstown?” she asked, trying not to let her voice creak with the effort it took to ask this question.
“I hope so,” Nathaniel said. “But that would be up to you.”
XIV
“What good luck!” Katherine called out suddenly over her breakfast, waving the newspaper in Elizabeth’s direction.
At the start of the third full day in Katherine’s company, Elizabeth’s patience with the younger woman’s sudden shifts of mood was wearing fragile, but now she put down her teacup and tried to look intrigued.
“What’s that, then?”
From across the table, their hostess caught Elizabeth’s eye and smiled kindly.
“You’ll have to come visit with Kitty more often,” Mrs. Bennett said. “She brings such enthusiasm with her, and you are the heart of serenity. You complement each other well. Don’t you think so, Mr. Bennett?”
Caught unawares, Mr. Bennett looked up from his own newspaper with a puzzled expression. “Of course,” he said. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Katherine jumped up from her place to put her arms around Mrs. Bennett. “What a dear friend you are,” she said. “I would be here with you always if I could.”
Elizabeth smiled her thanks for her portion of the compliment, but she made no promises about further visits. The Bennetts were kind people, hospitable and generous with the considerable comforts of their home, but Elizabeth was wishing herself back in Paradise. They had spent a full day in Johnstown and, in Elizabeth’s opinion, exhausted its charms.
But as much as she would like to be away home, Elizabeth was not looking forward especially to the journey, as it would require another full day alone with Katherine. The trip to Johnstown had been difficult: it took some time for Katherine to come to accept the idea that Elizabeth had asked someone else—and an Indian woman no less—to assist at her school, and she had been distant and indignant for most
of the journey, turning around constantly to see if Julian, who followed on horseback, was within hailing distance.
Elizabeth knew that they were once again on friendly speaking terms not because Katherine had come to some understanding or appreciation of Elizabeth’s motives, but simply because she was so very pleased to be in town that she could not stay in a temper. She didn’t even seem to mind Julian’s absence, although he had spent not a half hour with them since they had arrived.
Mrs. Bennett patted Katherine affectionately and sent her back to finish her breakfast. Katherine went rather reluctantly and sat with her chin on her cupped palm. The sleeve of her morning gown showed faded and somewhat worn against Mrs. Bennett’s good white linen, and Elizabeth felt suddenly sorry for Katherine, who so enjoyed beautiful things but had so few of them herself. Elizabeth caught sight of her own face in the silver of the teapot, the lace at her neck, and the fine gray silk of her own morning gown. She reached for the paper.
“Let’s see,” she said. Katherine brightened up immediately.
Elizabeth skimmed the advertisements for the one that had aroused Katherine’s interest. “Ah,” she said finally, and read out loud:
CLEMENTINA STOWE, Has just imported, and has for SALE at her STOPPE on the Johnstown Main Street a very neat assortment of MILLINERY GOODS consisting of the following articles, caps, stomachers, shoe-knots, Italian sprigs, lace, thread lace and edging, spotted satin, crimson ditto, black peelongs, a great variety of sash and other ribbons, fashionable fans, all which she will dispose of on the lowest TERMS.
“You’ve been thinking of doing over your hat, I know,” said Mrs. Bennett. “Mrs. Stowe has some lovely things.”
“Then you must all go and satisfy your curiosity,” said Mr. Bennett, folding his own paper and looking around the table as if he had just woken up. “And I must get to the office.”
Elizabeth smiled. “May I come by and see your offices, Mr. Bennett?” she asked. “While we are in town?”
