Naked in the Winter Wind

by Dani Haviland

  “I’m pretty sure they’re fine—they have a Level One security system protecting them.” I said, and wondered what that meant. “I mean, a woman’s body is set up so the baby is totally protected by bones, tissue, and water. Did you know that they’re floating in a sac of water so that any blows will be absorbed by the fluid.”

  “No,” Wallace said, blushing at his own innocence, “I know about horses, but I’m not very familiar with the human reproductive system.”

  “Don’t worry ‘bout a thing. Anything you don’t know, I can tell you. And if I don’t know, we can find out about it together, okay?”

  I blushed and bowed my head at my impertinence. To recant it wouldn’t be right and would call more attention to it. He was probably just as embarrassed as I was at my remark. We remained mute—still standing face to face and very close to each other, so close I could feel his body heat next to mine. I guess the sibling attitude of my body was changing. My womb was tightening with anticipation of something I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be receiving. I was also close enough that I could feel Wallace’s mood indicator rising toward the ‘happy to be with you’ level.

  The sound of footfalls on the porch steps shattered our little reverie. “Oh, crap,” I muttered as I pulled away, suddenly aware of my near nakedness by current standards.

  By the time Julian walked through the doorway, Wallace was tending to the wash kettle, and I was wrapping my sleeping quilt around my middle like a skirt. “What is going on in here—or do I want to know?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Just helping Evie with the laundry,” Wallace said with a totally detached innocence.

  “And setting the table for dinner,” I added.

  Julian looked at the table set with five bowls filled to the brims with a watery stew. “Are we expecting company?” he asked.

  “Uh, I thought maybe Jody and Sarah would be back. I guess with all the excitement, I was a little confused,” I offered lamely.

  Julian gave me the ‘you’re not fooling me, little lady’ look, but I felt it best to ignore his unspoken scolding.

  He turned his attention to Wallace, bent over the wash kettle, transferring the steaming clothes to the water bucket. His long, bright-white legs were exposed to the air from the bottom of his shirt to the ends of his bare toes. “And dare I ask what is going on here?”

  “Nope,” Wallace answered succinctly, picked up the bucket full of hot, sopping laundry, and walked out the door.

  Julian’s face reddened at being so curtly dismissed by his son. He was standing by the door, obviously deciding whether or not to go outside and have words with Wallace about his rudeness, when I came up and put my hand on his arm. “Please, let it go.”

  He turned to me and stared into my eyes, checking to see if I was hiding something. But I wasn‘t and he could tell.

  He pulled his shoulders back and stood as if at attention, took a deep breath, and said, “I don’t know what went on this afternoon, but I do know that it was—shall we say?—highly emotional. I did overhear some of what you said to my son just now, and I hope to God what I think happened, did not.”

  He didn’t take his eyes off of mine as he spoke, searching for his answer in both my reaction and my words.

  I didn’t say a word, but my face couldn’t lie.

  “Oh, good God, no,” he said.

  “I don’t know if he’ll ever tell to you about it, and I really don’t want him to,” I said.

  Julian gave me a scornful look. He apparently didn’t like me making the decision on whether or not his son should talk to him about ‘the incident.’

  “He’ll tell you if he needs to, but,” I faltered, uncomfortable with the conversation, “well, if he does, that means he has to relive it, go through it emotionally all over again. I’d just as soon he didn’t. We’re both alive and both healing. Can’t you just leave it at that?”

  “I can,” he said as a sigh. “When I was outside, I heard you explain your—attitude, shall we say—about men, women, people who are...” his voice softened, and then he was silent.

  I grabbed his hand and shook my head indicating that he needn’t say more. I’d do the same for the father as I had for the son. I didn’t want people I cared about feeling uncomfortable with their words.

  “Well, it’s not just an attitude—it’s the truth, right?” I moved my hand to his shoulder and looked into his eyes. It was my turn to be looking into the face’s book of truth. He took another deep breath, started to say something with his proper English persona, then stopped. His face really did change between his Lord Julian Hart mode and his friend and father modes.

  “Yes, you are right. I just wish others saw it as you do, Evie. It would make life so much easier,” friend Julian said, “so much easier.”

  I heard the horses approaching at the same time as Julian. The mood was over; we were both back in protected mode—our emotional walls erected to keep others away from our inner, true selves.

  Julian went outside to see who it was, and I shuffled over to the chaise to recuperate. All of a sudden, I was exhausted. I didn’t want to deal with any new issues, so decided to play the ‘pity the poor pregnant lady’ card and lay back with my feet up. Julian was more than able to take care of any new situation that arose.

  As it turned out, little needed to be seen to: Sarah and Jody were back. I heard them tell Julian that they both felt something was wrong. Sarah was afraid the babies and I were in danger, and Jody…well, he wouldn’t elaborate on his uneasiness, but I’d bet my last dollar—oh, wait; I didn’t have one—that he knew Wallace was in peril. Julian made a strong show of composure, assuring Jody and Sarah that everything was under control. Well, that was true. He didn’t lie. He just didn’t tell them that all hell had broken loose earlier.

  “What in the hell happened to yer pants, man?” Jody called out when he saw Wallace throwing the last of the laundry over the bush by the side of the house.

  Wallace looked over at him and said, “There was an incident, but all’s right now. Evie has dinner ready to serve. I think she was expecting you. Good evening to you, Mother Sarah,” he said, and nodded to her in acknowledgment.

  Sarah stared at him, her mouth hanging open at the sight of his naked legs. She realized she was slack-jawed, and closed her mouth, replacing it with a polite smile. “Good evening, Wallace. Is Evie all right?”

  “She’s just inside. You might want to ask her yourself. She didn’t get a chance to make any bread, but there’s some nice rabbit stew ready for us. Here, let me see to your horse,” he offered, his hands out for the reins.

  “I’ll take care of the horses,” scolded Jody, still mounted. “You’d better get inside before you catch cold.” He started to say more, but I saw Julian’s hand touch his leg. He didn’t look down to see what Julian wanted. He knew. Julian was telling him to be still and leave it alone.

  Sarah hustled into the house, frowning with concern, followed by a nonchalant Wallace. I supposed Julian went with Jody to see to the horses. Right—see to the horses and explain at least a little to Jody so he wouldn’t pester Wallace for more information.

  I was lying down—watching the older men through the open door—when I remembered I hadn’t set out the spoons. Wallace looked at the table and saw what I had just been thinking, went to the sideboard, and drew out all five of the carved wooden spoons. He looked up at me as he set the table and smiled.

  Gee, that polite and good-looking young man is really starting to get to me—and in a positive, thrilling way I hadn’t expected.

  “Now, what’s going on, Evie?” Sarah asked in her clinical tone, interrupting my warm musings.

  “Welcome home, nice to see you, too,” I said dryly. She waved my words away with a flourish of her hand, as if she were shooing mosquitoes. “I’m okay, I guess,” I said. “I just thought I’d better take your advice and rest my feet. I did a lot of walking today, and I guess I overdid it.”

  I looked up at Wallace and saw his eyes r
oll back into his head. I was glad to see a bit of mirth make its way back into his personality.

  He had really run the gamut of emotions today—trying and failing to defend my honor, then made to watch my assault; raped by two men; humiliated, chastised, and then comforted by me. He had rebuked his father’s concern and displayed his bare-legged indecency in front of his fathers and stepmother. And, since we were running through the range of emotions—and we did have a little personal arousal in there, too—we might as well add mirth to the mix.

  Sarah bowed her head over my belly, feeling around the outside of my panties with the quilt pulled back, pushing the womb side to side, measuring with her fingers its size from pubic bone to the top of the womb—fundus she called it. I looked up and caught Wallace’s attention. I stuck out my tongue and crossed my eyes. He snorted with a short laugh, then brought it down a notch to a big smile. Yup, we were in tune and on the same path: the path to healing and—if my sixth sense was right—to even more than that.

  Ӂ Ӂ

  “What?” Jody yelled. “How in the hell did this happen? Where were ye, and why did ye let Evie go runnin’ around the woods? Ye ken there are horrid men about, scourin’ the country, jest lookin’ fer trouble, up to nae good.”

  “Do you really think I could tell Evie what to do?” Julian huffed in exasperation. “I thought she was inside, doing whatever it is women do inside in the early spring. I was outside with Wallace, stripping the limbs and bark off that timber like you asked. Next thing I know, he’s gone. I thought he’d gone to the privy, but after half an hour, I went looking for him. He wasn’t anywhere to be found, and Evie was gone, too. I finally located them two hours later—they’d gone down by the creek for God only knows what reason. I know Wallace knows not to go in that direction, but if you never said anything to Evie—I know I didn’t—and she took off that way, Wallace would follow after her, safe or not.”

  “Ye said ye found the two of them with a dead man and some spare body parts. Do ye think they murdered the man?”

  Julian took a deep breath, delaying his answer, trying to find a way to explain that his son—their son—had been raped by two men in the wilderness.

  Jody tried to make the answer easier for Julian. “I’m sure if Wallace kilt a man, he deserved it. What did he tell ye?”

  There was Julian’s out. “He didn’t tell me anything, except that he would tell me about it when he was ready. I agree with you that Wallace wouldn’t kill a man except in self-defense, even if he deserved it. But Wallace didn’t kill anyone. A cougar did.”

  “Yer not makin’ any sense, Julian. If a painter kilt a man, and Wallace and Evie were there—even if they were someplace where they werena supposed to be—why the mystery?”

  “I think I will respect Wallace’s request that we leave him alone on this. And Evie, too. I believe he was protecting her and, well, she may not be his to protect, but she needs someone. You’re her family, but you’re gone so often, I think he feels the duty has fallen to him to watch over her. Actually, I think he wants the responsibility. He seems quite fond of her.”

  “I dinna ken whether to be glad or sad that someone else wants to watch over my family,” Jody said as he kicked a stone across the ground in frustration. “Weel, if Ian isna gonna to take care of his wife and bairns, I guess the good Lord saw fit to bring someone else from my family to be their protector. I’ll respect his right to tell me when he’s ready, but I canna help but feel that ye ken more about this than yer telling’ me, Julian.”

  “Jody, I feel like we are all family here, but anything I know has not been told to me by either Wallace or Evie. What I can tell you is that there were signs of violence. A man was killed by a cougar and there was a pile of bloody flesh that was taken away by an eagle before I had a chance to get a good look at it. The two of them are now back home—safe. Let’s hope it stays that way.”

  **29 José: The New Man in the Neighborhood

  Julian wasn’t sure if Wallace had been awake that first night and heard the revelation that Sarah and I were from a future time and that we knew the British would lose this war. But he was sure he wasn’t going to ask him if he had heard us.

  Like most young men of title in England, Wallace had been eager to buy a commission into His Majesty’s service. Since he was so prone to seasickness, he wouldn’t even consider enlisting in the navy. Therefore, whether Julian liked it or not, Wallace followed in his footsteps and joined the army.

  Julian knew military service was a rite of passage into the upper echelon of British society, but he was sick and tired of wars, death, and subterfuge. He had lived the life of a soldier and didn’t want it for his stepson.

  “A good education will be a valuable asset, son,” he told him. “Learn and become prolific in all the languages you can. You have the talent for it; make use of it. His Majesty has soldiers and ambassadors in countries all over the world. Not everyone speaks English, you know. More opportunities will be available to you if you speak and understand the languages of the people involved in the negotiations and alliances that keep this world in a semblance of balance.”

  But Julian’s real reason for extending Wallace’s studies had been to keep him safe in England. The additional years in school would delay his entry into the army so—just possibly—he wouldn’t be sent to that abyss of social graces: America. The conflict in the colonies involved active warfare, not just negotiations. He figured that if he could keep Wallace busy in school for an extra three years, the Americans would be subdued by the time his education was completed. Wallace could then buy his commission into an army that was not engaged in any active military conflicts and be safe.

  And that was how it played out, except four years later, the war with America was being still being fought.

  Wallace had purchased his commission last year. Julian had come out of retirement soon thereafter, calling in a few favors so he would be ‘requested’ as special liaison for His Majesty’s army, assigned near his stepson in order to keep tabs on all the players. This conflict with America was like all others from the beginning of time: rife with spies and officers with dual allegiances. Julian didn’t necessarily know whom to trust, but he did know many who should not be trusted.

  However, their military assignments, and whom they knew, didn’t make any difference anymore—they were away from their units and stuck in American patriot territory, bound by their word to stay put.

  Julian wasn’t completely convinced that I wasn’t crazy, but was unsure enough to accept that I was correct—the Americans would win the war. Julian, Jody, and sometimes Sarah and I, would discuss the current state of economics and politics with Wallace in the evenings. We hoped he would see the American point of view and decide to change allegiances on his own. Nobody wanted him to rejoin the fight on the British side.

  Julian and Jody could have saved their proselytizing—they were just throwing pennies at a millionaire. Wallace had always been sympathetic to the colonists’ causes. He had long ago found in his heart that he was an American. So, the British Lords agreed to remain ‘missing, presumed dead’ from their companies, keep a low profile, and stay with us.

  None of us asked how Julian and Wallace happened to be apart from their unit. That was their business, and since its eventual outcome was their mysterious kidnapping, none of the Pomeroy household wanted to bring it up. It was an accepted mystery that had a happy ending—at least so far.

  Because Wallace was an officer, he probably had been reported as killed or missing in action. Julian was an adviser and went from one outfit to another as requested; his whereabouts weren’t as closely monitored. When one adviser couldn’t be found, the commanders just went down their list to the next man available and filled the vacancy.

  Troops on both sides were very disorganized and kept poor records—if any at all. It also helped ensure Julian and Wallace’s safety and anonymity that the official roster of soldiers in Wallace’s unit had conveniently been left in his pocket alon
g with his new orders. His whereabouts in His Majesty’s army were not on any current record. Julian Hart’s name had also been on that list as an advisor. When I asked him where the list was, Julian said he had mistakenly used it to start a fire. “Oh, well,” he remarked, in an uncharacteristically casual manner, “one soldier, more or less, really shouldn’t make a difference to His Majesty.”

  Ӂ Ӂ

  The weather was getting warmer, and I wanted to get out of the cabin—probably an early case of spring fever. It was still too wet to dig in the garden, and I didn’t want to go anywhere without an armed escort. I had seen scat on the way to the privy, and knew the bears were waking up. Yogi Bear may have loved his picnic baskets, but bears in the wild were omnivorous—they’d eat anything—or anyone.

  Finding a companion and an excuse for a daytrip was easy. “Julian, do you think we can go into town and see if there’s any fabric available. Sarah said I could take some of her sweet smelling soap to use for barter. We also need a few other things, like salt and soda. I’d go by myself, but I don’t know the way.” I batted my eyelashes and grinned at him. He knew my ruse, and I knew that he knew.

  “We could do that. It’s still early enough that we could leave and be back by sundown. Are you sure you want to go with me, though? Wouldn’t Sarah or Wallace be better company?” he asked sincerely.

  “Nah, you’re great company. Besides, Sarah is riding up to the MacPhersons’ to check on the old grandma, and Wallace is going to help Jody clear the area south of the cabin for a new garden.”

  Julian chuckled at the ‘Nah’ part, and shook his head at my silliness.

  He was definitely loosening up his cast-iron stays. He laughed and smiled and joked now. I doubted he was aware of how uptight he used to be. He had relaxed when he realized he could finally stop double thinking everything he was going to say.