"Home for the last time, I'm done scoutin'. I'm going to build a little place near the fort and stay there for good. I'm too old for this. "
Even a seasoned guide can get road weary, Darcy thought.
"How do you know these lands so well? It is so vast, and every turn looks like the last one."
"There's nothing special about it. You probably know your home just as well.” He stopped sewing and looked at her. "Say, you're Irish, ain't you? My pappy was Irish. Listenin’ to you talk is like having him alive again. You people have a way of sounding like you're singin' a song when you talk."
"So your father was Irish?"
"He was. He came over here after that big battle in Ireland. What was it called again?"
"The Battle of the Boyne?”
“Yes, that’s it,” and he nodded. When he smiled, Darcy noticed he had few teeth.
“My, my,” she said. “It's a proud thing to say that your ancestors fought at the Boyne, Mr. Tinker."
"He lost one of his legs in that fight, but he said it was worth it."
"Was your mother Irish too?
"Naw, my mother was Nipmuc Indian. We moved to the Windsor after she died of the pox. The English took her home away too, just like they did in your land." He looked over in the direction of the soldiers and shook his head, "They sure have a way of coming in and just helping themselves. I can't understand how you could--" He abruptly broke off, returning to his mending. The fire popped and snapped during Tinker's silence.
Darcy replied, "Yes, Mr. Tinker, I am sleeping with the enemy, and right now, it is how I survive. Might I remind you, that you too are on His Majesty's payroll?"
He snickered and said, "Well, I guess we've all gotta dance with the devil, don't we? But someday we'll be rid of 'em. Mark my words."
As they were going to bed that night, Nathan told Darcy that they were less than a day away from Fort Lawrence. Relief washed over her, and she sighed deeply. At her first opportunity, she would find a stream to bathe. The dust and mud covered her skirt, and it was speckled everywhere with small seeds, which refused to dislodge themselves. She began to see the practicality of buckskin.
Darcy slid her weary body under the blankets, and Nathan rolled over on his cot, instantly asleep. They had been too dirty and road weary to be amorous for many nights now, and Darcy was grateful to Nathan for leaving her alone.
The next morning brought sunshine and renewed hopes. Everyone was eager to arrive at their destination, and the pace quickened. About midday, Nathan said that Fort Lawrence was just over the hill, and when they reached the clearing at the summit, Darcy stopped her horse. The panorama was breathtaking.
Directly below her in a lush valley was the Windsor River, winding its way past the star-shaped timber fort as it rested on a hill in the center of the valley. The cliffs on either side were topped with dark green pines, in striking contrast to the aquamarine of the river. The hills of Kerry were a bright emerald color, but the dark rich green of the New World was equally beautiful.
Darcy realized that she was holding up the party. She moved on, her horse picking its way carefully down the hill. They passed a grove of maples, which had several wooden spouts protruding from the bark. Darcy recalled someone telling her once that sweet syrup could be derived from the sap of these trees, and she wondered if this was the case here. She would make a point to ask Nathan about it later.
Realizing that the fort was still several miles off, Nathan ordered the company to stop in the clearing and eat their midday meal. The soldiers sat down on overturned logs or sprawled out directly onto the ground, eating their rations. Darcy dismounted to stretch her legs. She walked around the small clearing and spotted an overturned bucket in the underbrush. She wondered if settlers had tapped maple trees here too, and she picked up her skirts and walked through the brush to have a better look.
A crow was eating bugs off a log by the bucket, and he flew up into a tree to watch from a safer distance. As she waded through the brush, she saw the badly decaying corpse of a human being.
Maggots crawled everywhere over the remains, and although the man's face remained intact, the skin from his skull had been ripped savagely from his body. Darcy could not move or even scream. Her eyes were locked on the expression of agony forever frozen on the face of the dead man. When she saw the crow sitting in the tree waiting to resume his meal, bile rose in her throat.
Moses Tinker stepped up behind her. He took Darcy by the arm and urged, "Come along quickly, Miss. It’s dangerous."
After Moses informed Colonel Lawrence of the scalping, the company left immediately. Darcy now understood what Nathan feared. She recalled Father Etienne talking about the death of his mother, and after seeing the brutality of the act, Darcy understood why he was so distraught.
They arrived safely at the fort in the afternoon. Everyone was relieved. There was already a garrison posted there, commanded by Major Joseph Howell, but when Colonel Lawrence arrived, he would return to Boston.
Darcy was shown to her room located near Nathan's quarters. It was a small room with a rustic table and chairs and a bed covered with a well-worn patchwork quilt. Darcy sat down on the bed and began to unpin her hair. She was determined to wash the mud off her body before the day's end and change into some clean clothes.
There was a knock on the door, and an attractive young woman stood in front of her. "I'll tighten the ropes on the bed for you, Miss McBride, and I'm boiling some water to wash out that old quilt too."
"I don't expect to be waited on," protested Darcy. "I'll bring out my own laundry and do the wash myself. You must have hundreds of other things to do."
"Oh, there’s not so much. This is a small fort compared to those in the South, Miss."
"This is the first fort that I've seen," returned Darcy.
She could hear the unmistakable Scottish brogue in this woman's voice, and she asked, "Are you from Scotland?"
"No, I am from Ireland," the woman said.
The smile dropped from Darcy's face. She raised an eyebrow and said, "Let me guess, Ulster Plantation."
With Darcy’s icy attitude, the cheerful expression faded from the young woman's face. She said nothing more and left the room. Darcy detested the people who moved onto the plantations the British had organized in Ireland. She considered them outsiders and traitors.
Without a second thought, she washed her hair, pinned it up and ventured into the large courtyard the colonists called a parade ground. It was busy with British regulars trying to situate the new arrivals. She saw few women.
Cabins stood against the inside walls of the fort upon which sentries were stationed. Darcy remembered hearing their footsteps above her head when she was in her room. She noticed that the chimneys of these buildings faced the interior courtyard, and she guessed that this was to prevent the timbered walls of the fort from catching fire. Several cannons stood on the battlements and a powder magazine was erected in the center of the parade ground.
Holding her laundry, she headed over toward three women building a fire under a large crucible. "Is this where I wash my clothing?"
“Yes right here. You are welcome to join us,” they replied. They were cordial and helped her find everything she needed, but when the Scotch-Irish woman handed her a crock of laundry soap, Darcy's back stiffened, and her smile faded. She pushed her clothes down into the pot with a stick, saying nothing.
With her arms crossed over her chest, she watched Darcy. Finally she said, "Why do you hate me?"
"I have nothing against you personally," Darcy said, without looking up. “Just your kind.”
"How dare you come to my home and treat me like I'm not good enough," the woman said.
"Well now, how does it feel?” replied Darcy. “The only difference is I will let you keep your home and your religion. That's more than you did for us in Ireland." Darcy bent over, and the cross she wore inside her bodice slipped out.
The woman said, "You seem to be forgetting the meaning of
that cross you wear around your neck.”
Darcy straightened up and burned a look into the woman as she walked away. After finishing her laundry, she returned to her room where there was a tub of warm water waiting for her. She removed her filthy clothes and stepped into the small tub. The water felt heavenly as she scrubbed off the grime of the trip.
Darcy removed the cross and charm from her neck and as she placed the chain on a chair, she remembered what the woman had said to her earlier. A pang of guilt shot through her. She had been self-righteous and judgmental, and as much as she hated to apologize she knew she must do it.
As Darcy was putting on a white smock and pulling a clean gown over her head, there was a knock on the door. A guard said, "Colonel Lawrence wants to see you in his office."
Nathan was busy with Major Howell when Darcy was admitted. He had cleaned up as well. He was dressed in a clean uniform but wore no jacket. He was in his shirt sleeves, vest and breeches. Someone had polished his boots, and he looked very dashing, sitting behind his desk.
When Major Howell left, he said, "Darcy, there is something that I would like you to do. I have the identity of the man scalped in the maple grove. It seems that he has been missing for some time. He was a settler living not too far from the fort. His wife and children are living here now waiting for his return. I think that the news should come from a woman. I would like you to be the one to tell her."
Darcy gasped, "You want me to tell her that her husband is dead?"
"Yes."
"Oh, Nathan, what a thing to ask."
"I know, Darcy, but I know none of the women here, and you were the one to find him."
Darcy sighed and reluctantly gave her consent. Nathan thanked her and told her the woman's name was Adrianna McDermott. She stepped out into the sunshine and straightened her back. This was going to be difficult, and she did not relish the thought of bringing misery to anyone.
After asking a small girl to direct her to Mrs. McDermott’s quarters, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door. She heard footsteps, the door opened and there stood the Scotch-Irish woman. Darcy's heart jumped into her throat and with a shaky voice, she asked reluctantly, "Is Adrianna McDermott here?"
"I am Adrianna McDermott" the woman said with her eyes narrowing. “What do you want?”
Darcy's eyes widened, she swallowed hard and said, "I have come to speak with you for two reasons, Mrs. McDermott.” She took a breath and said, “My resentment and bitterness was wrong, and I must apologize for my behavior earlier. I am sorry to have judged you."
The woman studied Darcy’s eyes, and then offered, "Please come in, Miss McBride."
Darcy stepped into the quarters. It was a large room shared by several women and children. Adrianna showed her around and explained, "These are the laundress quarters, and that door leads to the surgery. The women work in these areas of the fort."
As they walked, Darcy took a good look at Mrs. McDermott for the first time. She was a woman of medium height with blonde hair and freckles, sprinkled lightly across the bridge of her nose. She reminded Darcy of Teila, but she was taller and more robust.
Darcy’s palms began to sweat, and she stuttered, “Um, Mrs. McDermott. Thank you for the tour, but Colonel Lawrence has sent me here with news."
"News of what, my husband?" she asked, her eyes growing large.
"They have found your husband, Mrs. McDermott. In fact, I found your husband," she said in a shaky voice, "I am sorry. He is dead, an Indian attack."
The woman let out a cry of despair, and as if she were a rag doll, she slumped to her knees, sobbing into her apron. Adrianna was inconsolable. Women rushed over enveloping her as Darcy stepped back, covering her face with her hands.
Darcy hated herself. She walked outside, filled with shame for bringing misery to the life of this woman. She leaned on a timber support and stared into space.
As distraught as she was, Darcy did not cry. How long had it been since she had cried? She thought back. Had she ever shed a tear for Father Etienne or for Dominique? No, never. Darcy realized that in her quest for survival she had become callous and hard. She bit her lip, squared her shoulders and headed back to her quarters to wait for Nathan.
Chapter 19
Spring turned to summer at Fort Lawrence. For the first month, Darcy stayed within the confines of the fort. Initially life at the fort held her interest, but as time went on she found herself longing to walk in the woods or bathe in a stream. Most of the women were content, if not afraid, to venture beyond the timber walls, but Darcy was restless and needed diversion and new surroundings.
Frequently, she thought of Moses Tinker and wondered if he was building his new cabin. One evening she asked Nathan what had happened to the guide, and he replied, "I believe someone said that he is building a cabin not too far down the river."
"Has anyone checked on him lately?"
"Why?" he laughed. "That old man can take care of himself better than anyone I know."
"I want to go out and see him tomorrow," said Darcy as she popped a piece of maple candy into her mouth.
"Don't be foolish, Darcy. It’s dangerous out there."
"Oh pooh, women have been living on the frontier for years, Nathan," she said sitting down in his lap. "I will go mad if I have to stay behind these four walls any longer."
"Now, Darcy, you are outside every day working in the garden and helping with the crops."
"That's right next to the fort. I want to see the countryside and walk the river," she argued.
Nathan put his arms around her, shaking his head. "I haven't the strength to argue with you, Darcy. You would try the patience of Job so I'll agree to it, on one condition, that you venture no more than one mile from the fort and that you have a dog."
"A dog!" she said, with delight.
"The settlers have been using them for years to warn of Indians. Let's see," Nathan said, stroking his clean-shaven chin. "I think Cavenaugh's bitch had a litter. He may have a dog for you. I'll check into it tomorrow."
"Oh, thank you, Nathan! I can't wait!" she said hugging him.
The following day, Darcy was presented with a tall retriever named Shenanigan. She hoped that he didn't live up to his name, but after several days of training, the dog appeared to be intelligent and loyal. They became inseparable friends.
She felt confident that the dog was ready to accompany her outside the walls of the fort, and after spending most of the day dipping candles with one of the women, Darcy needed to clear her head and walk along the river. She grabbed some cheese and a large portion of Sally Lunn cake and set out with Shenanigan for Moses Tinker's cabin. The dog seemed happy to be out of the confines of the fort as well, and they stepped out of the gate feeling exhilarated.
They passed the hills of the three sisters--corn, beans and squash--and headed south towards Tinker's cabin. They left the sunshine and entered the dark silence of the woods as Shenanigan dashed in and out of the brush, flushing birds and rabbits.
Darcy followed the deer path, which ran parallel to the Windsor River, and when she crossed a small stream, she spotted another trail leading to the west. She was tempted to follow it, but decided to stick to her original plan.
As she drew close to Tinker's homestead, she heard an ax hitting a tree. She smiled knowing he was nearby. She stepped out into the clearing, and there he stood saddle notching a log for his new home.
"Good day to you, Mr. Tinker!" shouted Darcy.
He looked up from his work, surprised. He wiped his brow, put down his ax and walked over to her.
"Good day to you, Ma'am," he said somewhat suspiciously.
"I see you are almost done. It's going to be a fine home."
Moses relaxed. He was proud of his cabin and happy to show it off.
"How are you going to get those logs up on the top part of your walls?" asked Darcy.
"There are ways," he replied.
She walked around the cabin admiring his workmanship and stopped at last a
t a stump and took the cloth off the basket she carried. "I brought you something to eat," she said cheerfully.
Moses stared at Darcy as she unpacked the food, looking confused. No one had ever taken an interest in him, especially such a lovely young woman, and he was taken aback. They sat on some stumps, and Darcy watched as Moses gobbled the food ravenously. She guessed that most days he was too tired at the end of the day to cook for himself, so he ate poorly.
"That dog's a good idea,” he said gesturing toward Shenanigan. You should get a musket too. You can't be too careful out here," he warned.
Darcy saw his new flintlock rifle. It was considered superior to the cumbersome musket, and she wondered if he might be willing to sell his previous firearm. She took a sip of cider and asked, "Moses, would you happen to have a gun for sale?"
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